Chapter 12 Christopher
Christopher
“This meeting is just a formality,” I tell my team as Gail sets a stack of folders in front of me before taking her usual seat against the wall, pen poised over her notepad.
“Everything has gone according to plan with this account, so just let me do the talking unless you’re directly asked a question. ”
Daisy and Ivan frown at my words, sharing a look, but my attention is drawn to the boardroom door as it opens and Vivian Alhurt, CMO of Oceanic Capital, sweeps in, her people close on her heels.
I trail my eyes over her appreciatively, from the dark red hair, pulled back with a brown clip, to the form-fitting dove-gray blazer.
She’s not my usual type, her personality domineering and sharp, but she’s attractive enough for an older woman.
“Vivian,” I greet cordially, straightening my shoulders as she approaches.
“Christopher,” she returns, taking my proffered hand in a too-firm shake, her hand dry against mine. I flick one brow up at the challenge in her eyes as they lock with mine.
“It’s good to see you again.” I wait until she takes a seat on the left side of the table, her team members sitting alongside her. Once they’re settled, I introduce everyone on my side.
“You’ll remember Daisy, our strategic creative lead. But this is Lucille, a junior account manager, and Ivan, our team’s data analyst. My assistant, Gail, is also here.” I wave a dismissive hand in her direction.
Vivian nods at each person, but doesn’t bother introducing anyone from her team, and I ignore the uneasy feeling that gathers at the deliberate snub.
I smooth out my expression, giving them a charismatic smile. “I want to start off by thanking you all for coming down. We—”
The door opens again, and my head snaps up, a puzzled frown tugging at my mouth when Reynolds strolls in, his smile just a little too cutting to be considered polite.
“Good morning,” he says silkily, icy eyes roving around the room. After a beat, they land on me, the corners of his mouth twitching, like he’s amused by my shock. “I’m just here as an observer this morning,” he answers the unasked question, arching an arrogant brow. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Something that would be easier to do if he didn’t seat himself at the other end of the table, directly in my line of sight. My heart thumps erratically in my chest, easily able to see the truth he’s not saying.
There is no good reason that the CEO of the company needs to sit in on a senior executive’s meeting, especially with a well-established client.
I surreptitiously tug at my collar, feeling sweat gathering on my hairline.
Vivian’s speculative eyes are bouncing between the two of us, but I forcibly shake the disquiet off, clearing my throat.
“As I was saying,” I start again, voice as steady as I can make it.
“This meeting today is just a formality, a way for us to get together to evaluate the performance from Q1, as well as to review the metrics from the current engagement campaign.” I pause a beat, long enough for my words to sink in, but not long enough for anyone to ask questions.
“According to the data our team has compiled”—I tap the folders, carefully keeping my eyes averted from Reynolds—“we’ve seen an amazing 31 percent increase in engagement compared to Q1 of last year.
Projections suggest that growth is on track to hold steady through the remainder of the fiscal year.
” I pass a confident smile around the table, ignoring the mounting tension.
“Daisy has come up with some adjustments to our current strategy that will further the improvements that Oceanic Capital has seen—”
Just as I turn toward my strategic lead to give her the signal to take over, there’s a shift in the air. The small hairs on the nape of my neck prickle with unease as Vivian leans forward, a thoughtful stare pinned on me.
“31 percent,” she repeats, almost like she’s testing the words on her tongue, her sculpted brows rising high on her forehead. “Impressive number.” Her eyes cool dramatically, mouth pinching. “But it doesn’t match the number on our end.”
No one from her side of the table looks surprised at the announcement. In fact, the guy next to her—some asshole barely out of school—shifts in his seat with a smirk.
I wet my lips, brain misfiring as I process her words, trying to make sense of them. “Can you explain that to me?” I ask stiffly. “Our analyst—” Ivan shoots me a wide-eyed look, scrambling to pull his laptop out of the bag at his feet.
Vivian doesn’t look at him, her focus fixed on me, her mouth flattening into an unimpressed line.
“That’s why we’re here, Christopher. Our relationship with Reynolds & Media has been a collaborative one for the last two years, beneficial to us both.
So I was…pushed into giving you the benefit of the doubt.
I’m here today to give you a chance to explain why we’re seeing such vast discrepancies.
According to our own analytics, engagement peaked halfway through the quarter and then dropped dramatically.
And yet”—she tilts her head to the side, not blinking as she holds my stare—“your numbers don’t seem to reflect the truth of that at all. ”
Every eye in the room swings to me. I can feel Reynolds burning a hole in my forehead. They’re all waiting for my response, my own team frowning in confusion. Ivan’s tapping away at his laptop, his expression becoming more and more alarmed.
Movement catches my eye, and I look up just in time to see Reynolds casually rest his elbow on the armrest of his leather chair, cupping his chin in his palm.
He looks relaxed and completely unsurprised at the turn this meeting has quickly taken.
Something about his slumped posture grates against my nerves.
I battle my irritation down, knowing I’m walking a knife’s edge.
Vivian grows impatient with my lack of response, tapping a sharp nail against the tabletop. “The numbers I’m seeing…” She shakes her head. “The correct ones are concerning enough, but coupled with your lack of awareness, I’m not optimistic about the integrity of this business relationship.”
I blink once. Twice. “I understand your concern, and I take full responsibility for the inconsistency. This isn’t a reflection of how we operate at Reynolds & Media.
” I clench my hands into tight fists, trying to contain the sudden tremble in my fingertips.
When I feel like I’m back in control, I flip open the top folder, scanning the numbers I was given before the meeting.
“We’ll reverify the data immediately, run comparisons against your own analytics, and—”
She shakes her head, unmoved. “This should have all happened before I ever set foot in this room. It’s too late for those kinds of steps now, especially when it’s affecting my company’s bottom line.”
My mouth goes dry as I flick a desperate look over at Ivan, who has still got his eyes locked on his laptop screen. No one else on my team is saying a word, both Daisy and Lucille looking uncomfortable, looking anywhere but at me.
“This is on my shoulders,” I say, attempting to smooth the troubled waters over one last time. “I’ll ensure you have a corrected report by EOD.”
Vivian exhales, long and heavy, her expression forbidding. Behind me, Gail’s pen scratches over her notepad, even though I’m not sure what the fuck she’s writing down. Reynolds hasn’t said a single word, but I can feel his judgment in the air, like he’s already decided how this all ends.
“If you just give us time, we’ll be able to find where the discrepancy happened and correct it immediately.”
“No need.” Reynolds’s deep voice cuts through the room like a roll of thunder.
My head jerks in his direction, mouth open to argue, but he’s looking at Vivian.
“A new account manager has already been assigned to Oceanic Capital. Daphne is excellent at what she does and has already been brought up to speed. I spoke with her just before the meeting started, and she reassured me she’d have new, accurate numbers by the time you’re ready to leave.
” His words are pointed, condemning, even though he’s not looking my way.
Vivian’s eyes flash with satisfaction, but she hesitates. “And how can we trust that this was an individual fault and not a company-wide one, Grafton?”
“You’ll have to lean on the two-year-long relationship you’ve had with us, current situation aside.” He stands up, and every Oceanic member follows suit. “And on your experience with me, because you know exactly how I operate.”
I’m frozen to my chair, my breath hitching in my throat, eyes darting around the room as I try to figure out what the hell is going on right now.
This is supposed to be a routine meeting, confirming the marketing strategy for their company for the second quarter and reassuring them that all their marketing goals are being met.
Instead, I feel like I’ve been wedged into a guillotine, the sharpened blade just waiting to snick down and lop off my head.
Vivian makes a thoughtful noise as she rounds the table, approaching Reynolds. She’s acting like I’m no longer in the room. Anger bubbles inside me, but I tamp it down, self-preservation instincts warning me that this isn’t the time to call attention to myself.
“Fine,” she agrees with another sigh. “But if anything like this happens again…” She trails off, the threat clear, but he just smiles back, unbothered.
“I think you’ll be pleased with the results of this change,” he says. “I know I will be.”
He leads Vivian out, their heads bent together as they talk. I gape after them, wondering what the hell those last words meant, and then the rest of her team is filing out after them.
“What just happened?” Daisy mumbles. She snatches the folder from in front of me, flicking through each page. “These…” She shakes her head, eyes wide with fear. “These are all wrong. Where did these even come from?” Her tone turns accusatory.
My temper frays as I shoot her an agitated look, snapping, “From you. From the team. Where else would they have come from?”
She opens her mouth but seems to think better of it. Instead, she shakes her head and rises from the table, gathering her belongings. Ivan practically throws his laptop into his bag, and then he and Lucille are following Daisy out of the room, not one of them bothering to look back at me.
I drop into my chair and pinch the bridge of my nose.
Something monumental has shifted, and I can pinpoint it to the moment that Grafton Reynolds swept in like a tornado, disrupting my orderly fucking world.
It might be his company, but he took a position I applied for myself.
The board didn’t even bother interviewing me after that, trapping me in my current role.
I wasn’t worried, at first—I know what I can do, what I offer, and it was only a matter of time before he was trying to win me over to his side.
Not the other fucking way around.
Except that never happened.
He seemed to dislike me from the get-go, and now…
Could Reynolds be responsible for this?
A throat clears right beside me, and I jump, whipping my head around to find Gail standing here, staring down at me serenely.
“Mr. Reynolds requires you in his office for a meeting in thirty minutes,” she tells me dispassionately, but I swear to god, her eyes are amused.
I stare back at her, a new inkling crashing through me like a tidal wave.
“You gave me the numbers,” I mumble, and she tilts her head to the side, eyes widening innocently.
“I’m sorry?”
“It was you.” My voice gets louder, and she takes a step away from me. Not out of fear, though. Gail’s not scared. She’s smug. “You gave me the numbers before the meeting. You compiled the folder. I told you…I told you—”
“You can’t blame this on me,” she says firmly. “I made sure of that.”
Without another word, she spins on her heel and confidently strides from the room, calling back, “CEO’s office in thirty minutes. I’m sure you won’t want to miss this meeting.”