4. Lauren
LAUREN
“You can do this,” Lauren whispered. She was sitting in the lobby of Omial, a folder held on her lap, as she waited for her chance to pitch.
Over the last few weeks, she’d gone through every single detail, from how she’d include ads targeted at underrepresented populations to how she’d compile bios of ordinary users and explain how Omial helped them in their daily lives.
It was exactly the kind of thing Omial was looking for.
They were the kind of company that prized grassroots engagement and building a community around their products.
Lauren had read every interview with Omial’s founder, Cameron Proctor, from the interview he’d done as part of his college hockey team to the one last week on his dreams for the company’s future.
She’d put together mock ads, researched growth strategies, and assembled charts based on projected revenue compared with competitors.
She’d practiced her speech a hundred times in front of a mirror, with her employees, even in the shower.
This morning, before coming to the office, she’d put on her best outfit, a red dress that was professional and bold.
She’d done her hair and makeup. She’d taken deep breaths.
She’d spent the day practicing, completely focused.
On the car ride over, she’d repeated affirmations under her breath; she’d even driven herself so that no one would comment on her strange habit of speaking aloud.
In short, Lauren was as prepared for this pitch as she was ever going to be. She would nail it. She had to. Her whole future depended on it, and Lauren did her best work under pressure like this.
“It was so nice to speak with you. Thanks.”
Lauren looked up. None other than James Pembrook was exiting from the conference room. He looked as put-together as ever in another of his tailored suits, with every strand of his hair in place and a warm look in his brown eyes. He held out a hand to shake Cameron’s.
“It was my pleasure,” Cameron replied, smiling. Like many tech founders in the area, he’d chosen a pair of jeans and a T-shirt instead of more formal attire. “We’ll be in touch.”
James thanked the other employees who’d attended the pitch before turning to leave. As he passed Lauren, he nodded at her.
“Good luck.” Then, in a lower voice, he added, “You’ll need it.” His leg brushed her knee as he walked away.
Lauren glared at his retreating back for a fraction of a second before getting to her feet. Her heart was racing. She was usually good under pressure — lots of practice meant that she could get her nerves under control in most situations. Now, though, she felt she could hardly catch her breath.
“You must be Lauren Maddox.”
“That’s me.” Lauren followed Cameron into the room. “I’m looking forward to telling you about how I can help Omial grow into the tech giant I know it can be.”
“Thank you for your time.” Cameron shook Lauren’s hand. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.” Lauren’s head was spinning. She could hardly believe what had just happened. “For your time, I mean.”
“Right.”
“Um, bye.” With that, Lauren practically fled down the hallway.
Somehow, despite all her preparations, she’d just given the worst presentation of her life.
She’d forgotten everything she planned to say.
She’d accidentally insulted Cameron’s pet dog.
She’d fumbled over her words so badly that the CFO had ended up finishing a few of her sentences.
She’d even mispronounced the company’s name.
There was no way Lauren was going to get the Omial contract now. No way. She’d failed.
This didn’t just mean losing a competition with James.
It meant she’d probably be deported. Her immigration lawyer had been sending increasingly concerned emails about her income, and Lauren hadn’t answered, hoping to wait until she had better news.
Her short-term, lower-paying clients wouldn’t be enough to save her.
The whole way home, Lauren was in shock.
She had no idea how she could have messed up so badly.
It was like a nightmare. Part of her even hoped she’d wake the next morning to find that she’d really dreamt this and that she had another chance.
Yet she knew that wasn’t the case. She really had failed.
Instead of going home, Lauren went to her office.
The receptionist was the only employee who hadn’t gone home for the day yet.
She went to her corner office and looked out over the view of the San Valentino skyline, the ocean in the distance, and the ribbon of highway beneath her.
She had work to do, clients to follow up with, but she couldn’t bring herself to work.
Yet she couldn’t go home, either. She felt stuck, buried beneath worries about her future.
This time next month, she’d probably be back in Canada.
“You must have really messed up.”
Lauren startled, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she turned. James was leaning in the doorway.
“Who let you in?” she asked bluntly. She was in no mood for banter.
“The receptionist,” James said. “She knows me by now.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m just continuing our tradition.” James sauntered in, apparently unaware that Lauren was upset. “Of coming to gloat. You see, an Omial rep called me almost as soon as I got back to the office. They hired me.”
“Of course they did,” Lauren muttered. It was salt in the wound that Omial had hired her rival. Surely, they’d had other options than her and Pembrook PR.
“I expected it to take a few days at least. You must have really crashed and burned in there.” James grinned.
Despite her best efforts, his words struck Lauren right in the heart.
She’d been living in fear for years, knowing that failure would mean deportation and losing everything she’d worked for.
Now, she was here, and instead of a shoulder to cry on or a sympathetic friend, the universe had sent her James Pembrook.
In that moment, Lauren realized that, if she had to leave, she was even going to miss this. She was even going to miss James and his stupid hair and his stupid arrogance.
She was going to miss everything.
Another tear gathered in Lauren’s eye. She turned away quickly. There was no way she’d give James the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
“No, really,” he continued. “I know I did a good job, but you must have done a terrible one.”
“Can you just go?” Lauren snapped. To her horror, her voice broke on the last word. Another tear slid down her cheek.
“Lauren?” James’s tone went from casually braggy to worried. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
His concern was even worse than his teasing. Lauren couldn’t let him think that she was crying because of him. She turned back, her arms crossed, as she did her best to hold in any further tears.
“This isn’t because of you,” she snapped.
“There will be other contracts.” James took a step closer. His eyes were wide, as though he’d never seen anyone cry before and had no idea how to handle it. “Better ones. Your company is amazing, even I can admit that.”
“I’m not crying because of the contract.” Lauren let out a sigh. “Or, not entirely. It’s about my visa.”
“Your visa?” If anything, James looked more confused now.
“Yes. You know that I’m from Canada. Well, my work visa requirements just got updated, and I need a bigger client with a long-term contract to stay here. Or, I needed one. I didn’t get it.”
“You have time to find another one,” James said. He held out a hand as though he were going to pat her shoulder, then let it fall.
“Not really.” Lauren wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, annoyed with herself for crying and for confiding anything in this man.
“I put all my eggs in this basket, so to speak. I have plenty of other clients, and they used to be enough, but most of them are short-term contracts. It just isn’t enough anymore. ”
“There are always more clients,” James said.
“You don’t get it.” Lauren turned away and strode to her desk. “My visa renewal is up in two weeks. I needed to prove that I had a big client by then, or they won’t renew the visa. And guess what? I don’t have the client I need.”
“I could?—”
“I didn’t ask for your help.” Lauren turned to face James again, now from the other side of her large wooden desk. “I didn’t ask for you to come here. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Right.” James let out a slow breath. “I get that.”
“No, you don’t.” Lauren ran a hand through her hair.
“You’re a citizen. You never had to worry about visa stuff like this.
You came from a wealthy family, which means that you never had to worry about money.
Your parents were there for you, supporting you and your dreams, so you never had to worry about standing on your own two feet with no fallback plan. ”
James’s expression shuttered. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my family. I may have made assumptions about you, but you’ve made them about me, too.”
Lauren’s stomach sank. Despite her anger and sadness, she felt guilty, too. James was right. She had made a big assumption about his family being there for him, when actually, she didn’t know much about them. James had inherited Pembrook PR from his father, but that was all Lauren knew.
“I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just upset. But it isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe I could help you look for another client,” James suggested.
“Thanks, but I don’t want your pity. And I really think it’s too late, anyway.
I could never find a new client and put together a good proposal in time.
Even if I did, with my immigration status on the line, I’d probably just crash and burn like I did today.
I have to see what I can do with my existing clients.
Maybe I can put it together in a way that looks good enough.
” Even as she spoke, Lauren knew it wouldn’t be enough.
She’d needed a bigger client. No matter how she tried to spin the situation, her existing clients just wouldn’t cut it.
“Good luck,” James said.
Lauren raised her eyes to meet his. For the first time, she really thought he meant it. He wasn’t just teasing her or being a jerk. He actually wanted her to do well, though she wasn’t sure why.
“And if it doesn’t work out, you’ll win once and for all,” Lauren added, managing to inject a little levity into her tone.
“If they won’t renew my visa, I’ll be heading back to Canada next month.
Then you won’t have to worry about me competing with you anymore.
No more stealing your clients. No more winning our wagers. You’ll be free.”
James froze. An expression flickered across his face, something Lauren couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t his usual smugness. It was something else, something new.
“I didn’t think about that,” he said. “You’d really just leave?”
“I’d have to. Anyway.” Lauren folded her arms. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Right. Of course. I… I’m sorry. And I’m not saying that out of pity. It really is a shame that you’re in this situation.” James turned and headed for the door. His hand was on the handle when he paused.
“Do you need me to show you the way out?” Lauren asked, a hint of her usual banter creeping into her voice again.
James didn’t reply for a long moment. Then he slowly turned back to her.
“Lauren… will you marry me?”
Lauren stared at him, open-mouthed. She must have misheard him. There was no way that James Pembrook, a man she’d never gotten through a conversation with without trading insults, had just asked her to marry him. No way.