Chapter 9
“Now, one key detail which has remained proudly unchanged is Alarie Inc’s commitment to our core fundamentals.
If I could direct everyone’s attention to the figure on the right of the screen, you’ll see there’s a reason why we’re committed to ensuring these values remain unchanged.
” Nate used a hand-held laser to point out his figures as he spoke, giving his audience a visual aid.
It was something they’d discussed a few days ago, Nate telling Connor he’d feel better having something in his hands as he talked.
“Whatever you need,” Connor told him, “Whatever you need is fine, if you can use it as a prop.”
So far, it seemed to be serving him well.
His presentation was going off without even so much as a stutter. Remarkable–and Connor couldn’t even take credit for that.
This performance was all Nate.
All Connor did was handle the graphics from a little handheld remote. Hardly even a contribution at all, but still they moved in one coordinated effort through slide after slide.
“After all, through the decades of experience Alarie Inc. has seen, I think we can all agree there’s no need to fix what isn’t broken, right?” Nate continued, flashing a grin.
That earned a few good-natured chuckles from the audience, just enough engagement to make him come alive.
That was something Connor noticed even with investors during conference calls. Nate thrived on getting even a few minute hums of approval here or there. But the effect he had on them in person was something else entirely, a closed-feedback loop building up his confidence into something unbreakable.
Nate seemed to glitter under those warm spotlights on that ballroom stage, every detail of his expensive crimson suit on display. Not shrinking in place, not standing still, he used every inch of the stage, filling the space as naturally as if he’d been doing this for decades.
Just look at you, Connor found himself thinking.
He could liken himself to Henry Higgins and Nate his Eliza Doolittle, but that wouldn’t be honest, would it?
Connor had only trained him, had only prepared him. But this–this confidence, this candor, the way he took to a stage as easily as breathing, this was all Nate.
Who was this man, and what had he done with the Nate who had crumpled like a used tissue just that morning?
He caught Connor’s eye every so often, grinning, never missing a beat with a single slide.
Watch this, he seemed to communicate just to Connor before hitting the audience with another quip, another clever comment that had them chuckling good-naturedly.
“And that is what we can anticipate coming into the next quarter. Most importantly, our fiscal outlook continues to show the kind of growth that makes us all sleep better at night.”
A few more laughs from the audience, and even Connor found himself hiding a grin behind his hand.
Their presentation was over soon enough, with Nate welcoming questions from the audience, that polished, pleasant expression of his not fading once.
“Yes, up front. The Sherwood team.”
A tall woman in an elegant floral shirtdress rose to represent Sherwood, adjusting her glasses with a thumb and forefinger.
“Yes, Madeline Osborne, I represent Sherwood Investing’s legal interests.
While I’m pleased to see such a healthy outlook moving into the next quarter, we can’t help but have some concerns regarding, well, recent shifts seen in Alarie Inc.
leadership. Do you think this is something you can comment on? ”
Connor sucked in a breath, watching Nate. This was exactly the kind of question they’d practiced at least a dozen times - and it was the one that Nate seemed to struggle the most with.
“Well, Ms. Osborne, that’s a fair question.
I know uncertainty is something we’d like to avoid, and change always brings a lot of noise.
” Nate paused, twirling his pointer in his fingers as he seemed to gather his thoughts.
“I think what matters is that we’re continuing to see healthy balance sheets paired with a clear strategy for moving forward, and you’ll continue to see the results of that particularly through our client management channels. ”
Damn near perfect, and the Sherwood reps seemed pleased enough that none of the team asked any follow ups. Madeline took her seat again, leaning to whisper something to her assistant, a young man with a shock of red curls.
Connor caught Nate’s eye and mouthed, Good job, not missing the way he stood a little taller, something fond in those dark eyes that seemed to be just for him. Just for a moment, and then he was moving on.
Nate took a couple more questions, and by the time his panel ended, he’d accomplished something incredible.
He’d managed to not only showcase himself as stable, competent, and likable, but he even got their investors on his side. They trusted him.
Connor could hardly believe it as Nate departed the stage to applause, louder than the usual polite clapping of a corporate audience. Too good to be true, that’s what this had to be.
But it wasn’t. This was real, just as real as Nate slipping back into his seat beside him, his body warm and solid, his arm pressing into Connor’s.
“We did it,” Nate whispered in his ear as the closing remarks began.
“You did it,” Connor corrected him. We survived, he didn’t say.
The closing remarks were short. Geri Trembley’s daughter Anise took the stage to thank the invited guests of Alarie for attending the first day’s panels.
“We invite you to continue your weekend with Alarie by attending our diverse offering of workshops and classes tomorrow, designed to better strengthen internal communications and sales strategy for startups and established corporations alike,” she added, before bidding attendees a pleasant evening.
And like that, the first day of the conference had finished. Relief never felt better, Connor finally feeling like he’d let down a too-heavy weight that had been set to smother him.
Nate hadn’t failed. Not even close.
Connor closed his eyes as he leaned back in his seat, all of a sudden exhausted. It was only 5 PM, but he was already looking forward to nothing more than getting out of here, maybe getting a drink at the hotel bar, and sleeping–
His phone vibrated in his pocket as the audience began to applaud Anise’s exit, the light’s coming back on. Connor stayed in his seat a moment longer, pulling out his phone to see a flurry of texts from Junie lighting up his screen.
Your Reyes kid is fun. I’m keeping him, read one text, with more coming in before Connor could keep up with them.
There’s an afterparty at the Marriott in an hour. Unofficial Alarie assistant conference.
3136 and 3138. Word is Mia and Benji are hitting Bevmo on their way back.
You coming or what?
Connor’s thumbs hovered over the screen a moment before he decided to slip his phone back in his pocket, slowly rising out of his seat.
No, he didn’t think so.
Mia and Benji both worked out of Berkshire’s office, and while they’d always been friendly enough to Connor, they were more Junie’s friends than his.
“You need more friends,” Junie would say, but then she’d been trying to set him up with Benji for at least a year. Not that there was anything wrong with Benji–he just wasn’t Connor’s type. That was all.
He never mentioned to her that Berkshire had Benji sit in on the deposition to take notes and… well, Connor just wanted to have one nice night without thinking about Devore.
But he felt Nate nudge him, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned to see him with a small smile.
“So, do you have any fun plans in the city tonight?” Nate asked, just quiet enough that they wouldn’t be heard.
Connor hesitated before answering.
“Not sure yet.”
“You know, there’ll be some after parties,” Nate commented.
“Yeah. Tends to happen with these events,” Connor said dryly.
Nate gave him a long look, tilting his head to the side.
“So, do you go to them?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sometimes,” Connor replied, not quite sure what Nate was getting at. “Why?”
“Well, I heard there’s going to be one here,” Nate paused, giving him another long look. “You know, execs and guests.”
Connor didn’t know why Nate was telling him this.
“Okay,” he said, blankly.
“Do you want to come? As my guest?”
“Your plus one?” Connor asked, eyebrows furrowing.
What, do you need someone to get your drinks for you?, he thought with some annoyance before dismissing it as unfair.
No, there was something genuine in Nate’s expression.
He meant it.
“Yeah. My plus one,” Nate repeated, glancing around them before landing back on Connor with a smile.
“Why?” Connor asked, his expression softening. “I’d think you’d want to enjoy yourself. It’s your first conference. They’ll probably toast you.”
And what kind of look would it be for you to seem incapable without me? He thought but didn't say.
“Well, you were the brains behind our panel,” Nate pointed out. “And people should get used to seeing you around.”
“Seeing me around? What do you mean by that?” Connor asked, not sure if he should be defensive or not–and that confusion left him vulnerable.
“I mean if we want to put you as a good successor to Simmons in peoples’ minds,” Nate said, like it was obvious.
Connor wasn’t sure he was following. But of course he was–this was what they’d discussed, this was what they’d agreed on.
But never did he expect that Nate would actually uphold his end of the bargain.
He felt as though he could be toppled with as little as a light bump, staring at Nate utterly dumbstruck, oblivious to the people moving around them, filtering out of the ballroom and into the hallway just outside the doors.
“I didn’t think you meant it,” Connor confessed. “I thought you were just telling me what I wanted to hear.”
Nate’s smile faltered.
“You weren’t bluffing when you said you’d help me, right? You helped me. So, I mean it. I’m going to help you.”
He placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder as they walked, his smile returning.
“So, you’ll come to the East Terrace. In an hour, maybe?”