Tess
The following Friday, I rode the elevator to the twenty-seventh floor of the Sebastian Center. I was a mess of nerves. My mouth was dry, my skin sweaty. The butterflies in my stomach were so active I thought I might fly away.
Everything about this idea was wrong.
I regretted it as soon as I’d called to make the appointment Monday morning with Julie Sanchez.
As promised, Green Eyes had informed her I’d be calling.
She was ready for me with a meeting time already set aside, only it was for three weeks in the future.
It was too far away. There was too much of a chance that Kendra would be back by then.
I knew I should have walked away then. An immediate roadblock did not bode well for the rest of the plan. But since I was already on the phone with the woman, it wasn’t like I could just back out.
“We could wait until then,” I’d said, thinking as fast as I could. “But I have an amazing opportunity for a partnership that I just know is going to be gone by then. I’d really hate for SIC to miss out.”
Julie had put me on hold for several minutes. Just when I’d thought I should hang up and change my number, she returned to the line. “Friday at ten. Mr. Sebastian can give you thirty minutes.”
So here I was, on my way to what was likely to be a total disaster.
Be confident, I told myself for the fiftieth time that morning. Teyana had told me it another hundred and fifty times before that. It was the only way I had a chance of selling this. The only way I had a chance of not coming across like a total fool.
But it was hard to be self-assured when nothing about me was me—my clothes, my shoes, and the briefcase I carried had been borrowed from Kendra’s closet.
Even my laptop had been one she’d purchased for me.
Only the presentation on it was completely mine, and considering the fact that I’d never fully prepared one of these pitches on my own and had definitely never delivered one, I was finding it difficult to place any faith in it.
No. I could do this. I could be this. You have to leap to land, Tess. So go ahead now and leap.
By the time the doors opened at my floor, I had done a pretty decent job of composing myself. I threw my shoulders back, held my head high, and walked through the glass doors into the public relations office.
Then I saw the receptionist and froze.
It was Eden, the woman from the roof. The woman I’d watched Blue Eyes finger-bang and dismiss like yesterday’s newspaper. She worked here?
Of course she did.
Because that was my luck, and this was a ridiculous idea, and because she’d been at a party hosted by the Sebastians, so why the hell wouldn’t I expect that she was part of their circle?
I almost turned around and left.
But she was already staring at me, a welcoming smile on her face, and I remembered suddenly that even though I’d witnessed her in a private moment, she hadn’t seen me. All I had to do was keep my cool, and this would be fine. Everything would be fine.
“How may I help you?” she asked when I finally forced myself to cross the several yards to her desk.
“Yes, I have an appointment with Scott Sebastian.” I managed to sound poised, which in turn made me feel poised. I glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. I’d hoped to be early, but it seemed I’d made it just in time. “Tess Turani with Conscience Connect. Ten a.m.”
Her brows knit as she studied her screen. “Oh. There you are. You’re not meeting with Scott; you’re booked with Brett. He’s waiting for you in the meeting room. I’ll take you back there.”
“Ah. Okay. Thanks.” I waited for her to come around the desk then followed the clip-clip of her heels down the marble hallway, glad to be behind her so she couldn’t see the confusion on my face.
Julie had said my appointment was with Mr. Sebastian.
Had something come up? Or maybe it had been Green Eyes’ plan all along to pass me off to someone else.
It was silly to expect that the man on top would have taken a meeting like this personally.
It didn’t help settle my nerves, though.
In fact, it increased my apprehension. It made me realize I didn’t have any clue how this pitch would be vetted.
I’d been hoping to tie this up as fast as possible, but if I wasn’t meeting with the head honcho, it was probably unlikely that this Brett guy would be able to sign off on anything today.
Would he be the one who would pass the information on to Scott?
Or would I have to come back and pitch again?
If it was the latter, how soon could that happen because time was not on my side.
Dread tickled at my chest as Eden ushered me into a meeting room. There were so many unknowns. So many ways this could fall apart. So many—
My panic turned to surprise as I came face-to-face with Green Eyes. “Hi!”
“Hi.” The warmth in his greeting echoed mine.
I was really glad to see him. But also really baffled. Was he Scott Sebastian, the man in charge of PR, or Brett, the man Eden said I’d be meeting?
“Is something wrong?” he asked, apparently reading the puzzlement on my face.
“I just…” I took him in. He was dressed in a tan suit that made his eyes look more brown than green and stood at the opposite end of a conference table—a small one, meant to accommodate four or five people at most. If he was Scott—and he had to be because he was a Sebastian, right?
How many Sebastians were there in the same department?
—then maybe we were going to be joined by more people shortly, including Brett.
Or maybe Scott had scheduled me with Brett and then managed to make time for me himself.
Whatever had happened, he was here, and he was waiting for me to say something coherent. “I just didn’t expect to be meeting with you,” I said. “I figured you’d pass me off to someone else.”
“Hope it’s not a disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” He stepped toward me and held out his hand. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. Brett Sebastian.”
“Tess Turani.” I took his hand as the pieces came together. Brett. So he wasn’t Scott. He looked more like a Brett, actually. Then, was he not in charge? More likely, the website was outdated. “Good to formally meet you. And not a disappointment at all.”
“Glad to hear it. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you again at the party Saturday. I looked for you later, after Adrienne Thorne finally left.”
“You did?”
“I did.” There was no mistaking what his intentions were with that statement. Especially since he still held my hand, much longer than he should have for a simple introduction between two people about to do business.
My stomach began to knot. He was attractive, yes. But I hadn’t come here for a booty call, and I definitely hadn’t come here to try to win his persuasion with feminine wiles. I wanted to climb the ladder on my own two feet, not on my back.
Before I had to decide how to handle his flirtation, Brett abruptly dropped my hand.
“And that’s as far as I’m going to go with that.
I’m a firm believer that business and pleasure are not good bedfellows, and I’m very intent on conducting business with you.
Perhaps there will be a time for pleasure later on. ”
“Thank you. And perhaps.” I was relieved, and though I didn’t feel the same spark now that I had when I’d been tipsy, I would consider a date with him when this was all over.
Unless, of course, this whole charade blew up in my face, which was still a very strong possibility.
Too late to worry about that now.
“Should we get started?” he asked.
“Yes. Of course.”
He waited for me to sit before he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down across from me. His gaze settled on me intently. “You have the floor, Ms. Turani.”
And, wow. Having the full attention of a Sebastian was more stressful than I’d imagined.
It was also more exciting.
It gave me a sudden shot of adrenaline. I’d landed an opportunity to sell to one of the most powerful men in the city. Now was my chance to prove I deserved it.
I opened my briefcase—Kendra’s briefcase—and pulled out one of the booklets I’d had printed the day before.
Since it was just the two of us, I decided to forgo the laptop.
My PowerPoint was solid, but I knew I would do better on the pitch without all the bells and whistles.
I needed to connect with him personally.
In fact, my whole presentation seemed overboard now.
Suddenly, I knew my angle. “I put together a portfolio of all of the charities I thought might be suitable for SIC.” I handed him a booklet.
“Each of them are worthy and notable and would be a fine fit for a company as prestigious as yours. I’m happy to go over the pros and cons, walk you through what a partnership with each would look like.
Or we can skip all that, and I can tell you why Sebastian Industrial would be making a huge mistake if they chose to team up with any charity other than the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation. ”
I hadn’t stuttered or tripped over my words once. I was so nailing this.
Now all he had to do was tell me to skip all the bullshit and tell him more about the DRF, and I’d have this thing in the bag. My heart hammered in my chest as he flipped through the booklet, waiting for his response.
After a handful of eternal seconds, he looked up at me encouragingly.
“I’m definitely curious about the latter.
Unfortunately, there’s a whole team to convince, and they’ll probably want to hear about every single one of your charities in great detail before making a decision.
I apologize in advance for how long and drawn-out they’ll make it. ”
My stomach dropped. There was so much he’d said to be distressed about. I picked the first one to focus on first. “A team?”