Chapter 35 - Quinn
THIRTY-FIVE - Quinn
East-World Bank isn't as big as I thought it would be. The building is only a little larger than Obsidian’s, but the parking lot is full of luxurious cars that you wouldn't see in our lot. I manage to find a space in the second row, which gives me the perfect view of the two cars resting in the spaces closest to the building. These spaces have signs in front of them to make sure no one else parks there. The first is for Richard Saul, the CFO, and the other is for the CEO, Joel Epson. Richard drives an eggshell Porsche with tinted windows, while Joel is more subdued, choosing a high-end Lexus instead of anything fast. Joel wants to stay off of the police’s radar, while Richard wants to be too fast for the police to catch.
It’s funny how cars can tell you about the person driving them, but I didn't need to see their vehicles to know about the two men waiting inside. I've studied them more than I needed to, overpreparing for the test instead of cramming at the last minute, and when I step out of my car to go inside, I'm ready for everything that’s about to happen. I take a final glance at the laptop in my passenger seat, wondering if I’ll actually need it. If it comes to that, then I’ll be back.
For now, I turn around and walk in hoping we can do this the easy way.
My mood for the day can only be defined as sour.
I taste it in my mouth and it makes my facial expression tight.
I know what’s at stake here, and I know that one wrong move could jeopardize Obsidian’s future.
No part of me wants to do that, but I’m also not in the mood to be fucked with right now.
Olivia and Eden are waiting inside, and I feel like I have to close off my emotions before I see them.
If I don't, then I’ll be on edge when we go in there, and that is almost never a good thing.
I want Olivia to see that I'm closed off because she made me this way, and I can follow her lead for once and get into the same zone she's in. I can lock into my work, too. Once we’re done here, I’ll show no emotion and get on my work grind.
If she doesn't want us to be a thing, then we won't be. Fuck it.
After a trip up an elevator, I'm greeted by a blonde receptionist in a pink blouse, who points to a group of chairs in front of her desk.
I follow the direction of her finger and find Olivia and Eden already there.
Eden, with her usual red aura, smiles at me like an old friend.
Olivia, dressed in a conservative black pantsuit with her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, presses her lips into a thin line and nods her head.
I barely nod back, batting away memories of her on her knees in front of me, gazing up at me with those beautiful eyes.
I guess all of that is gone now. She severed our connection to give us space. So be it.
Damn.
The three of us sit in silence, the air thick with awkwardness until the receptionist gets a phone call that finally brings sound into the room.
Her voice is high-pitched and dainty already, but she seems to elevate it even more when she speaks into the receiver.
Then she hangs up and looks at the three of us as she stands.
“Mr. Epson and Mr. Saul are ready for you now,” she says in a much lower tone than before. “Right this way, please.”
We all stand at the same time, and Olivia is at the front of the pack when we walk down a short gray hall and turn into a conference room that is very similar to ours at Obsidian.
For the first time, I feel nervousness swoop into the room like a breeze.
This is it—the big day we’ve been waiting for.
It’s not happening the way I thought it would, but it’s here nonetheless. No turning back now.
Everything inside is gray and black, the table is a short rectangle in the middle of the room, and in the center of it sit two older men in gray suits that are nearly identical with the exception of their ties.
They are all wrinkles and dismissiveness, and they wear the latter like cheap cologne—it wafts off of them and fills the room.
They eye all three of us as we’re ushered in by the receptionist, who leaves as we step over to the table, and go through a series of handshakes that feel disingenuous and trivial.
I don't know if Olivia can see it like I can, but these people clearly have no intention of doing business with Obsidian.
My heart sinks with the realization, but my determination ticks up.
Joel Epson looks like a man who has lived his entire life in wealth and luxury.
His suit is pressed, and his all-gray hair is neatly combed backward to cover the few bald spots threatening to overtake his entire scalp.
The skin on his face sags like plastic bags full of groceries, especially under his eyes and around his mouth, which seems to be stuck in an upside down smile.
While I would say that he's easy to make fun of, I would also suggest that mockery be done quietly and in private, because Joel Epson does not look like the kind of person you make fun of to his face.
If he wasn't a banker, I could see him as a mafia boss, putting out hits on people who owe him money—not too far removed from a bank CEO, I suppose.
“Good morning, Mr. Epson,” Olivia begins as the two CEOs shake hands. “I'm Olivia Lucero, and these are my colleagues—my assistant, Eden Graves, and our CISO, Mr. Quinn King.”
And just like that, we’re under way. Here we go.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” says Joel, although the tone in his voice says otherwise. “This is Mr. Richard Saul. He's the CFO here at East-World.”
Richard is a slender man in a red tie, with a face carrying less wrinkles than Joel, but still holding plenty. His blue eyes are piercing yet lifeless, and his shoulders are slumped as he presses his thin lips together to nod at us across the wooden table.
The three of us take our seats in a line next to each other, while the two of them sit in power positions side by side—straight backs and stiff necks, with their fingers clasped together in front of them on the table, ready to tell us “no” the minute our pitch ends.
“We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us, Mr. Epson,” Olivia begins, but she is immediately cut off by a raised hand used as a stop sign.
“Just call me Joel, please,” Mr. Epson says. “And I appreciate you making the drive over to us, but I have to be honest with you Miss Lucero—”
“Just Olivia, please,” she jumps in, giving Joel the same energy he gave her.
I smirk a little, because I know Olivia has prepared for this meeting, planning to show these two that she is a boss in her own right and that she is to be taken seriously.
But how much did she prepare to have her back up against the wall from the very beginning?
Did she plan on meeting men who are simply waiting to say no?
Joel pauses, clears his throat, then begins again.
“Right. Fine. I have to be honest with you, Olivia, we were just as shocked as anyone to hear what happened to Diego, but we were never interested in switching firms. I'd like to be transparent and tell you that we merely took this meeting out of courtesy to Diego Lucero and his memory. You have our well-wishes and our deepest condolences, but to be completely honest with you, Diego’s firm isn’t big enough to handle an account like ours. ”
Eden eagerly jots down notes as Olivia answers quickly. “Well, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. Obsidian is my company now, and as much as I can appreciate your attempt at shooting me down quickly, I think you're going to want to listen to our offer before you make a final decision.”
Richard rolls his eyes while Joel sighs, and my skin prickles.
“Why is that, Olivia?” Joel asks. “From what we understand, you don’t have any experience at this level.
We appreciate and respect Diego’s wish to appoint you as his replacement, but we’re happy where we are, and it’s hard to have confidence in someone you don’t know personally, and who doesn't seem qualified on paper for this position. No offense. Most importantly, though, we’re just happy with our current cybersecurity firm. ”
Olivia grins, and my question about her preparation is answered. It’s clear she expected the beginning of the meeting to go this way, and I can see her gearing up to deliver what she thinks will be the big blow. I bite my bottom lip, hoping that I'm wrong about these two.
“I understand that you have a long history with Palo Alto Networks,” Olivia says.
“However, I think you'd be even happier paying six percent less than Palo Alto’s price, and five percent less in insurance. Add in the fact that we have better coverage and stronger firewalls, and our deal is much sweeter than what they can offer you.”
“With all due respect,” Richard Saul speaks up for the first time, his body tight with impatience.
“Obsidian Securities has undergone extensive attacks and had a number of breaches over the last quarter. You are in no position to speak about better coverage or stronger firewalls. Truth be told, you only speak of better insurance coverage because you know that you've had clients getting hacked, and you want to assure us that if we’re hacked too, you can ensure our data recovery, but that’s not a selling point.
As far as I'm concerned, it simply reinforces the fact that we need to stay where we are.
Palo Alto Networks hasn't had the breaches that you have, so how can you possibly speak negatively about them?”
“Oh, I don't mean to speak negatively about them,” Olivia says, her confidence quickly evaporating as she scrambles to recover. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. I know how strong your relationship with Palo Alto is, and I didn't mean to step on any toes—”