~Victoria Richards~
The worst part of my job was always pitching. There were always going to be ideas that the client refused to accept and ideas the client would be unwilling to let go of, and it was generally frightening to stand in front of a room of people and be judged for how well your brain performed that week. But luckily for me, Kingsley insisted that I completed my pitch in front of just him and his VP. It took away most of the pressure, giving me more confidence than I'd ever had for a pitch.
I was careful with everything I said and particularly left out tiny details that were very expensive or tricky to sell Kingsley on the idea, and Anthony shook his head at all of it. He hadn't said a word since I entered but he didn't have to, I could see the contempt he had for me on his face as clear as the sky outside. I wasn't sure exactly what his problem was but I didn't like it or his attitude. He needed to fix it before I risked my entire career on a single deserving punch right to his face.
"We need a minute to chat, Miss Richards," Kingsley told me once I'd reached the end of my presentation boards.
I smiled. "Of course, I'll just step outside. I'd be happy to answer any questions when I come back… or now, if you have any?"
Neither of them said anything so I excused myself from Kingsley's tiny office - which, based on his reaction to my plan, would soon become a storage closet for the bikers who had a tendency to forget things. I took a look around for the second time to get a feel of the clubhouse away from the buzzing bar and scary bikers. In the same hallway where you could find the four metal doors, was another two doors; one to the meeting room; one to a large garage with two doors that led out back. I'd learned whilst taking photos of the place that this was only used for the most important of the club, like Kingsley and Anthony themselves, as well as Damien and the road captain I'd yet to meet. It seemed like a nice spot to change into something else more useful for the whole club, but I could tell Kingsley hadn't liked that part of my plan.
I pulled up one of the garage doors and walked along the gravel toward an old wooden deck that looked like it would break under the weight of a pebble. Keeping back from the edge, I admired the hillside from a safe distance. It was quite early in the morning so the sun was still low in the sky, giving it a yellowish hue. I could see a few clouds on the horizon threatening to cover the town, but nothing to worry about. Then again, these things tended to sneak up on us.
I didn't realise someone had come out here with me until a piece of gravel scattered and hit my ankle between my shoes and the end of my jeans. I glanced over my shoulder at the tall approaching figure of The Lost's Vice President. He didn't look too pleased.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Admiring the view," I muttered, avoiding the harsh tone I wanted to use. My fingers trailed delicately across the wooden railing before me. I couldn't get mad right now.
"Prez is ready to see you again." Anthony walked up next to me. "I can promise you it's gonna be better in there than this shit view."
I frowned. "This is beautiful."
"It's the side of a fucking hill, Miss Richards. If this impresses you then no wonder you haven't suggested burning down the clubhouse already."
I ground my teeth together in an attempt to contain my own dose of attitude. Anthony stared at me as if he knew what I was struggling through, as if he was waiting for me to explode. For that very reason, I made sure that I didn't and turned to head back inside.
"I'll go back to Mr Kingsley now, thanks for letting me know."
Anthony grunted - visibly disappointed - and started following me. I pretended to accidentally start closing the garage doors on him but he easily swept beneath them before they could fully close, and then it was me who was disappointed. We returned to Kingsley with a newfound hatred brewing between us, though I doubted he would be able to see it when we were both trying so hard to be professional. Or at least, when I was.
"I've looked it all over again," said Kingsley, oblivious. "My VP and I both think it would be wise to trust your gut. You didn't earn your reputation for nothing, so I'll put my trust in you when something springs to your mind."
"That is quite wise, yes, Mr Kingsley," I agreed lightly. I gave him a different kind of smile, a guise for my smugness.
"I'm sure your expertise also lies in planning."
"It does."
"Then you can get started on everything you've plotted out here. Nothing is so big a change that I am unhappy with it, and I like your idea to put my office in with my bedroom. It is very clever." Kingsley scanned across the vision board for a tenth time, then nodded. "When will you start all this?"
I glanced at the date on my watch. "Probably next week, if I can get my team together. They're very busy with my previous clients at the moment. But when they're available, I'll have them working immediately."
"Good. Keep me updated."
"I will," I promised, taking the board away from him to slide it back into my case. I dropped the rest of my materials inside and placed the case's cross-body strap over onto my shoulder. "Have a nice day, Mr Kingsley. I'll be in touch." My eyes landed on Anthony as I shook Kingsley's hand. "And you, Mr Black." As I expected, I received no response.