Nine Evelyn
It was crazy to me how Vanessa was on such casual terms with the CFO until it hit me for the hundredth time that she was the CMO.
At the end of my relatively uneventful day, I headed into the meeting room, ready for Vanessa's usual briefing.
Watching her in these meetings was always a little surreal. Everything about her seemed effortless—from the way she gestured as she spoke to the confidence with which she carried herself. Even her voice was different here: more commanding, perfectly suited to leading a room full of people.
I forced myself to focus on taking notes rather than the woman delivering the presentation, though that was easier said than done. Every so often our eyes would meet across the room, and while I had to remind myself how to function like a normal person, Vanessa never appeared remotely fazed.
At the end, I wanted a moment with her to ask a legitimate question. Adam just wasn't as intelligent, and no one else here even compared to her.
She’d already sensed I planned to talk with her before I said anything, reading my mannerisms like a book. She gave me a single direct nod once the meeting was over.
"Yes?" she asked, sauntering over with a curious gaze.
"It’s about the digital CPA numbers," I started, not wanting her to think I was just desperate for time with her.
“With my new calculations, they have been going up on social media but down on mainstream websites, and I was wondering if you'd think it wise to coordinate with the financial departments?
With social media's mistrust at a high, a far larger adjustment is necessary.
I haven't done so yet, and I’m not sure if asking for budget changes is appropriate with my position.
" Once I started talking, my confidence went up.
She tilted her head, nodding intently at my words.
"Precisely. Additionally, speaking to Ms. Foreman, who specializes in world affairs, may be useful as well.
I can put you two in touch if you desire another perspective.
You seem to have already learned that changes around us directly change our KPI results.
So when adaptation is needed, it is fully suitable for you to consult with any departments it may concern. "
I exhaled lightly, then added, “I also noticed the attribution drift between platforms. If we reweight engagement signals instead of just impressions, the model stabilizes faster—especially when sentiment volatility spikes mid-campaign. It’s a cleaner read on intent rather than noise.”
A flicker of something—approval, maybe—crossed her face, before she nodded.
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that, if you wouldn’t mind,” I said.
“Perfect, I’ll do so shortly. Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s all. Have a good day.”
“You as well. Wonderful job; you’re a quick learner, Evelyn.
” She paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully.
“You’re unusually strong on the statistical side of marketing,” she added, tone more measured now.
“Most people come to think that KPIs are one dimensional and only track vanity metrics. You don’t. ”
“Well, the technical skills I learned in grad school obviously helped, but I’ve noticed it’s just always been easier for me to see patterns in data than most people.
But it could also just be because I’ve always been really good at math.
” I hesitated, not wanting to brag. “I’m good at explaining the sequential patterns I notice to people too. I like doing it.”
That got a faint, knowing look from her.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I tend to lean the other way—better at understanding the behavioral, and psychological side of marketing.
My two undergraduate degrees are in writing and psychology,” she admitted.
“Which is why your kind of technical precision is… useful to me.”
“Thanks, Vanessa.” Unable to take the appropriate piece of feedback like a normal person, I smiled like it was some intimate laudatory statement. “Well, whenever I can be helpful, please let me know,” I added, moving to pick up my things and leave.
I couldn't help but watch her body sway as she turned, going back to the head of the table. She bent down, getting her purse in a fluid motion, glancing back at me to give me a small parting smile as she graciously strode out of the room.
Hopefully this normal interaction made up for all the humiliating ones we tended to have.
Early the following day, Lillian Kimura popped into my office unannounced.
"Good morning, dear. This isn't work-related, but if you haven't heard, our friend Vanessa’s birthday is this Friday. I’m planning a get-together with her friends at a nearby restaurant and was wondering if you were available?"
Given Lillian was inviting me when this wasn't work-related and didn't seem to be for work colleagues, she likely overestimated how close Vanessa and I were. Would Vanessa even want me there?
"Um, yeah. Who else is going?" I asked, trying not to show my hesitation.
"You won't know most of the other women, if that's what you're asking. But trust me, Vanessa would love to see you there," she encouraged, sensing my doubt.
"I'm sure it will be lovely, I'll be there," I answered convincingly with a polite smile. Luckily, Lillian wasn't as perceptive of my emotions as her friend.
"Wonderful, I'm thinking L'Ambroisie would be lovely. Have you been? It's one of Vanessa's favorites. She has such sophisticated tastes," she added with a playful eye roll, as if mocking Vanessa's need for Michelin-star restaurants.
She herself was dressed in designer clothing, flashy silver jewelry with large diamond jewels, just as rich and into the luxurious lifestyle as Vanessa.
The event was clearly going to be me and other millionaires, most of whom probably weren't going to be as down-to-earth as Vanessa, leading me to consider making up an excuse the day of.
"You're sure it's appropriate for me to attend?
I mean, we aren't that close. I just work under her.
She's been quite welcoming, which I'm grateful for, but still.
" I needed more confirmation from Lillian if I was even going to consider showing up, and she didn't seem like one to tell Vanessa about my uncertainty.
She let out a devious laugh, shaking her head, her brown eyes gleaming.
"Dear, I've known her for years. She doesn't buy a pastry for people who ‘just work under her,’” she mimicked my words, the corners of her eyes crinkling playfully.
Her tone was so suggestive, Vanessa would kill her if she knew Lillian we were having this conversation.
"If you say so," I sighed sarcastically, internally jumping up and down.
"I'll sit next to you," she pressed her hand to her heart as a loving gesture, making me laugh.
Confidently walking out, she sent me a wink, clearly proud of herself.
I could see why she and Vanessa got along—two hot, confident, and flirtatious women who knew how to get what they wanted in life. Though there was something intangible Vanessa held that Lillian didn’t.
Now, I needed to buy Vanessa a gift. I didn't have the ability to drop money like all her friends would, but I wanted it to be something that would get her attention.
Still, I wasn't taking any risks, and this was making me realize how little I actually knew about her besides the facts I’d learned stalking her.
My personal favorite fact I'd acquired was her love for boating. Knots.
Sobering up enough to remember that conversation had only made me want to know more. But a book on shibari wouldn't exactly be an appropriate gift for one's boss's boss. Besides, I'd rather keep imagining she already knew it.
I settled on a bottle of red wine, having observed her drinking some at the auction. It fit her noir femininity perfectly.