13. Rick
Rick
Almost an hour later, when we stepped outside the cabin, the mountain air felt so wonderful. Sofia was back in her business attire, and I had on one of my suits again. I was going to miss the flannels she’d been wearing all week long.
As I drove, winding our way back down the mountain highway toward Golden, the reality of what we were heading toward slammed me right back into focus.
Sofia quietly sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the scene outside the windows. She may have been back in her armor—a crisp, slate-gray tailored suit that made her look every bit the powerhouse strategist she was—but I could see the slight tension in her demeanor.
“We’re ready,” I assured her, reaching over to briefly place my hand over hers on the console. Her skin was cool, but she squeezed my fingers back with a light grip before I pulled away to take a turn.
“I know,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking over at me, a defiant spark returning to her gaze. “I am so ready to bury Leonard. To upstage him finally.”
Our first stop was the commercial printer that we used in downtown Golden.
I left the engine idling and hurried inside, returning a few minutes later with three massive, heavy-weight presentation boards wrapped in protective black canvas.
These weren’t just standard agency mock-ups.
We had spent the last twenty-four hours of our retreat formatting the trailhead checkpoint layout and that spectacular 3D speakeasy rendering into high-gloss, high-impact visuals.
We’d built the app, confirming with Sofia’s contact at Parks and Rec about the drop-off points, and even talking to a few local bars and businesses about partnering with the brewery. Everything was moving into place.
When I slid back into the driver’s seat after loading the boards carefully into the back, Sofia turned around to check them. “How do they look?”
“Like the winning lottery ticket.” I smiled, pulling back out into traffic. “Leonard’s amateur hour is over.”
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Clear Creek Brewery, almost a full hour early for our meeting time.
As we walked through the glass double doors, carrying our presentation material, I felt like we were stepping into a battlefield with a freaking tank.
As we neared the heavy timber doors of the executive suite, the doors swung open.
To both of our surprises, Leonard Whistler stepped out, a smug, self-satisfied grin plastered across his face, looking entirely too comfortable.
“Sofia,” Leonard purred, adjusting the lapel of his overly flashy blazer.
“Glad you could make it. Though, honestly, you could have saved yourselves the drive. The board was so receptive to my presentation last Thursday that they invited me back for a brief follow-up. No doubt, I’ve just secured the account. ”
Sofia flinched slightly, then she stopped right in front of Leonard. Her posture was stiff and her chin lifted slightly higher as she faced him.
“You mean my presentation that you stole?” she asked, her voice dropping into a calm, dangerously smooth register that made my chest swell with pride.
“Don’t worry, though, because I have plenty more ideas where that came from.
Much better ones now that I’m not being overworked, underpaid, and ignored. ”
Before he could muster a comeback, the boardroom doors opened, and Marcus stepped out, looking sharp and slightly annoyed.
“Rick, Sofia. You’re a little early, but we’re ready for you, if you’re ready.” Marcus gestured into the room, ignoring Leonard. “Let’s see what you have for us today.”
I caught Sofia’s eye as we walked past Leonard into the boardroom. We took a moment to set our boards onto the waiting easels. While I hooked up the computer to the projector, the executive board remained seated, their expressions neutral as they waited.
When everything was in place, I stepped to the front of the room alongside Sofia.
“Marcus, gentlemen,” I began, getting the attention of the room instantly as I unclipped the first cover, revealing Sofia’s brilliant digital blueprint for the “Tap-and-Trail” app ecosystem.
“Last week, you were shown a static map. Today, we’re going to show you how Clear Creek Brewery is going to own the entire mountain. ”
I stepped back, handing the presentation over to Sofia.
For the next fifteen minutes, she owned the room.
She briefly touched on the high-impact visual aesthetics before diving straight into the mechanics of the “Tap-and-Trail” app, the trailhead recycling hubs, and the ultimate reward: the barrel-aging speakeasy.
Every word out of her mouth was precise, calculated, and delivered with a fierce confidence that had the entire board leaning forward in their seats.
When she finished, she clicked the last link and unveiled the final 3D rendering of the hidden barrel door on the projector screen.
I’d created a full-blown walkthrough image using an online design tool so that they could scroll through and see the entire room for themselves.
The room was dead silent as Sofia scrolled around, showcasing several of the highlighted features.
Everyone took all of it in for a long moment. Then Marcus let out a slow, heavy breath and looked up, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. He looked over at the others, who were all watching him in silent agreement. Then he turned his attention to the two of us.
“Thank you, Sofia. Rick,” Marcus said, leaning his forearms on the table. He gestured toward the empty chairs opposite him. “Please, take a seat. There’s something I need to tell you before we make our final decision.”
Sofia and I exchanged a quick look before both sitting down across from him.
“Last Thursday, Leonard came in here and gave a very flashy presentation,” Marcus began, his voice dropping into a serious, candid tone.
“It looked sharp and was exactly what we were after. But after your first presentation and the claims that you had against him, it got us thinking. So we tested the waters in the past few days. Then, today, we brought Leonard back into this room for more details on his plan. We wanted answers before we met with you and saw what you had for us.”
I felt Sofia tense beside me, her hazel eyes locking onto Marcus.
“We started hitting him with follow-up questions about the technical execution of his marketing plan,” Marcus explained, shaking his head slightly.
“We asked about data integration, the logistics of the maps on the cans, the budget allocations for each marketing idea. And to our surprise, he had no real, solid answers. It was bizarre. It was almost as if he didn’t really know the deeper details of his own strategy. ”
A cold, victorious satisfaction settled into my chest. He couldn’t answer because he hadn’t built the marketing plan, I thought to myself. He stole it from Sofia, from her half-formed thoughts before she could finish everything, and therefore he had no idea how to actually run the machine.
“So,” Marcus continued, looking directly at Sofia with an apologetic but intensely focused expression.
“If it’s okay with you, the board and I would like to ask you those exact same questions.
We need to know who truly understands the soul of the campaign.
Not that we don’t absolutely love everything you just presented.
” He glanced at the others who all nodded in agreement.
“But we need to know who we are signing on with. What type of people work for the company we sign with.”
“I understand. Go ahead, ask me anything,” Sofia said without a second of hesitation, her chin lifted as she kept her voice completely steady.
Marcus nodded and looked down at his legal pad. “First question…”
After Sofia answered their last question, the room grew quiet again.
“Well,” Marcus finally said with a slight chuckle as he shut his legal pad with a definitive, satisfying slap that echoed through the quiet room. “I think it’s safe to say we know exactly whose plan it was in the first place. Thank you, Sofia, for clearing things up.”
The tension that had held the boardroom hostage for the last half an hour evaporated instantly. Suddenly, Marcus stood up and walked around the long pine table to shake Sofia’s hand first, then mine. His grip was firm, and the heavy lines of stress on his face had completely vanished.
“You two blew us away today,” Marcus said, a genuine, relaxed smile on his face as he walked us toward the heavy double doors. “We have a few minor formalities to vote on with the rest of the board, but I’ll have a decision over to you by tomorrow sometime.”
“Thank you. We look forward to your call,” I said.
The second the boardroom doors closed behind us, Sofia and I let out a simultaneous breath we’d been holding since we’d crossed the threshold. We walked down the hallway, our heavy canvas presentation boards tucked under my arms, and stepped out into the bright, warm Colorado sunshine.
Leonard was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. Had his arrogance outside the boardroom all been for show? Maybe he had meant to put Sofia off her game? It had, clearly, had the opposite effect.
“We did it,” Sofia whispered, turning to face me in the parking lot. Her eyes were wide and shining with pure, unadulterated triumph. Her nerves had finally cracked, revealing the ecstatic, brilliant woman I’d spent the last few days with. “I think we actually did it.”
“Correction,” I said, leaning against the side of the car and looking down at her, my heart doing a dangerous spiked beat. “You did it. You absolutely power-housed the whole thing.”
“I had a pretty good co-pilot,” she teased, a playful flush creeping up her neck. “I don’t know about you, but adrenaline makes me starving. Can we please get food before we head back to the office and face reality?”
“Your wish is my command.” I chuckled as I unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side.
We hit a quiet, sun-drenched bistro just off the main avenue in Golden.
The place sat right on the river, which was already full of kayakers and paddle board enthusiasts, no doubt all trying to beat the heat that was supposed to hit later that day.
We sat in a corner booth far away from anyone who might recognize us from work.
For the hour, the looming shadow of the office didn’t exist. We celebrated over gourmet paninis, laughing about how Leonard was going to handle it when Marcus informed him that he’d lost the account. And we let the remaining energy from the cabin hum quietly between us.
But reality always demands its due. The moment we walked through the glass doors of Gold Standard an hour later, the peaceful bubble of the time spent in the mountains popped completely. The bullpen was a hornets’ nest of ringing phones and clicking keyboards. As usual.
“Rick! Thank god,” a booming voice called out.
My brother Jax intercepted me before I could even get through the elevator doors.
He looked like he’d been pulled through a hedge backwards.
His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up haphazardly, and he was clutching a stack of manila folders like a shield. God, is that how I’d looked last week?
“Tell me you got the account,” Jax demanded, looking between Sofia and myself.