3. Felicity
FELICITY
The LeMonde Diamond winked at me from across the Veritique lobby.
Or should I say, a LeMonde replica, since the real hundred-carat gem was currently on exhibit in the Dubai Museum.
Industry gossip suggested that a prince was currently trying to buy the massive thing, but the EVP wasn’t having it.
I knew everything about everything when it came to Veritique, the good and the bad—and right now, there was plenty of both.
They were an amazing brand with a long, storied history, but their current PR disaster was a mess for them… and a huge opportunity for me.
Was I a little nervous about the work ahead of me if I got the job?
Well, sure, of course. It was a challenge on a way bigger scale than the stuff I usually dealt with.
No one cared that the company’s new CEO was finally taking the right steps toward dealing with conditions in the mines.
People only cared that the ginormous jackass who had been the previous CEO had done literally nothing but shout back at everyone who criticized him and then pouted like a toddler when—big shocker—no one wanted to buy from him anymore.
He’d basically shit all over his brand, and cleaning that shit away wasn’t going to be easy.
But I was nimble, and I looked at challenging scenarios with a fresh perspective, which was why I’d been called back a week after my initial interview for more meetings.
I was a little sweaty and shaky, but so far, I was killing it.
The social media director position was within reach, if I could just ace my last meeting of the day.
I’d been at the office for hours, moving from conference room to office to lounge as I met with various executives.
All that was left was an interview with the CEO.
I was ready. Nothing could knock me off my game.
“Felicity, you’re still here,” a voice rang out behind me.
I turned to find Sandrine, the VP of Corporate Affairs and Strategy, walking toward me.
“I am, just one more meeting,” I smiled at the woman, who’d been my easiest interview of the day. “With Mr. O’Connor.”
“Oh, okay.” Her pleasant expression shifted to a frown, so fast I almost missed it. “That should be fine. Anyway, I’m glad I caught you, because I thought of another social media question for you.”
Before I knew it, we’d jumped right into a discussion about measuring return on investment from micro-influencer product placement campaigns.
I knew a ton about it, so I took my time explaining my perspective, relishing the way Sandrine drank it all in.
I barely noticed the elegant chignon-ed blonde drifting toward us.
She stood off to the side while I showed off my knowledge, shifting her weight nervously. Sandrine finally glanced at her.
“Alessandra, can I help you?”
The woman glanced at the tablet she was clutching. “Yes, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Felicity was due to begin her interview with Mr. O’Connor five minutes ago.”
Sandrine frowned again, and I felt a nervous clench in my stomach. Why were they both so on edge about the CEO?
“Of course.” Sandrine turned to me and gave me an apologetic smile. “Let me walk with you to let him know I’m the reason you’re running behind. He can be a stickler about timing, and I should take the blame, not you.”
Shit. I knew I should have done more research on the CEO, but with him still pretty new to the job, I’d figured there wouldn’t be much out there, so I’d focused my prep work on other things.
Plus, his photo was the only one missing from the executive page, which clued me in that things were still shifting into place at the company.
Was lateness a big pet peeve of his? Big enough to keep him from hiring me?
Punctuality was tough for me. It was a trait I’d willingly offer up during an interview when asked to talk about my weaknesses.
Admitting to being late occasionally was usually considered a minor sin, but apparently not when it came to the big man.
Noted. At least in this case, I’d have Sandrine to speak for me.
We chatted as we made our way down the long hall to the executive suites until her phone interrupted us. She glanced down at the number.
“Oh no, I completely forgot about this conference call. I need to run.” She grimaced. “But please, tell him it’s my fault. I’m sure he’ll understand. Good luck!”
My heart sank as we ended up in front of double doors with a handle so big it required Alessandra to bend at the waist and wrench it open with all her might. My ally was gone.
“Mr. O’Connor? Felicity Rhodes is here.”
She backed out of the room quickly, right as the leather chair in front of the windows swiveled around.
It took me a second to square the fact that the drop-dead gorgeous man frowning at me, who held my future in his hands, was the exact same one I’d called a “complete asshole” a week prior, right before I’d come to Veritique for my first round of interviews.
My heart dropped to my heels.
“You’re late,” he barked at me as he stood up, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head as he added, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Couldn’t find a cab?”
So that was how it was going to be. Right then. Dream job, right out the window. Should have known my luck hadn’t changed after all. For a beat, I considered playing polite, maybe apologizing, trying to convince him to give me a chance.
But no. The cold look in his eyes told me this wasn’t a man who gave second chances. He’d made up his mind about me from the moment we’d met. Apologizing would be a waste of my time—and of the little bit of pride I still had left.
Screw politeness. This interview was blown anyway. I might as well just say what I felt.
“Shockingly, I didn’t have to wrestle any spoiled baby-men to get one today. Lucky me,” I snapped. “And I’ll have you know I was early to my first meeting this morning at nine, with Mr. Cook.” I paused. “He told me that if he had his way, he’d hire me yesterday.”
He laughed at me. “Good thing Roger doesn’t have the final say. I’m the only one who knows the real…” he paused to glance at his laptop, “…Felicity Rhodes.”
He said my name like it tasted foul on his tongue.
“Yes, and I’m happy I already have an understanding of your leadership style, Mr. O’Connor.”
“Please, call me Cameron.” It came out fake, like he was a cat gently toying with a mouse before delivering the killing blow.
“No thank you, Mr. O’Connor,” I sniffed. “Anyway, as I was saying, I have no desire to work for a company that values personal gain over fairness. I’m confident my vision won’t mesh with your direction.”
It was a struggle to say the lie, because up until this very moment I’d never wanted a job quite as badly as I wanted this one.
I knew I could help find a way out of the disaster they were facing.
Just sitting in the interviews all day presented me with a half dozen possible directions.
I respected Veritique despite their current struggles, I adored their products, I’d vibed with every person I’d met so far, I liked the office culture, and the salary?
Mouthwatering. That’s why I had to force myself to pretend the job didn’t matter to me.
I couldn’t let on just how much walking away was going to hurt.
“And how would you know what my direction is?”
I laughed in his face. “Do you need me to say it out loud, Mr. O’Connor?”
He swept his hand out in front of him. “Please, I’d love to hear your take on Veritique.”
“I’ll let your recent press do it for me.
” I cleared my throat. “‘Veritique remains mum on diamond mine working conditions in South Africa despite public outcry,’ The New York Times. ‘Veritique is lone holdout on mine conditions statement, amid calls for reform,’ Washington Post. ‘Top three diamond retailers unite to create a universal mining and conditions code of ethics, Veritique is lone holdout,’ The Atlantic.” I paused to stare at him.
“It took you forever to come out with a statement about your workers’ deplorable treatment, and in PR, delaying your response is a response.
I thought I could join the team and help change the public’s perception, but now I’m discovering that’s probably not possible. ”
“Now hold on,” he fumed, stomping toward me. “Those headlines don’t take into account that it was my father who refused to make a statement or bring about change. Things are different now that I’m in charge.”
I laughed in his face. “Oh, is that a fact? You’re the ethical billionaire? I beg to differ.”
“You seem to think that one stupid incident can sum up the entirety of a person,” he seethed, “but if that’s the case, what do you think it told me about you?”
I steeled my spine. If he thought he could tear me to shreds with his words, he was welcome to try. He wouldn’t be the first.
“I can see you’re dying to tell me, so why don’t you?” I shot back.
“Oh, you want to hear it?”
“Can’t wait.”
My skin prickled under the weight of his gaze. The air in the room was charged with static, and my pulse was racing. He watched me with an intensity I could only write off as pure loathing. I didn’t enjoy fighting with the man, but I also didn’t not enjoy it. Although “enjoy” was the wrong word.
I felt…alive as we bickered. Like I had to think fast on my feet to keep up with him. Nothing was sexier to me than an intelligent man, although I wasn’t about to admit I found him sexy.
Even though I did.
“I don’t see how that would be worth my time. I think we’re done here, Miss Rhodes.”
I nearly stomped my foot like a child because he’d beat me to the punchline. I wanted to be the one to end the interview. And admittedly, I’d been a little curious as to what he really thought of me. But there was no way I was going to let him see my disappointment.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” I lied.
“So, we agree on something,” he shot back.