"Shut up, you asshole!"

The woman behind me sticks her head out of her car and yells at the driver to my right that's honking angrily.

I immediately shake my head and bring my focus back to my rearview mirror, drowning out the angry exchange between the two. Nothing better than Seattle traffic to start your morning. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, my eyes moving quickly between my nude lipstick, mascara and sleek bun.

The angry honking continues, more cars joining in like it's some game of broken telephone. I almost want to scream at everybody and the temptation to join the honking game grows. This is not the day for all of this. My anxiety is already sky high. Today was not the morning to be late.

I guess it's my fault for snoozing every one of the eleven alarms I set last night.

To think they moved the meeting from nine to eleven. If they had stuck to the nine, I wouldn't have had a chance. I need this meeting to go really well if I have any chance of saving my business. It's been seven years; it can't fail now.

I've been losing clients since another marketing company moved into the floor right above us. I mean, it's a very competitive business and there has always been clients not renewing contracts, but I swear those little jerks sit in the reception area preying on any client that walks out of our offices.

Apparently, I'm getting too old and out of touch. I am not old. I am not out of touch either, I guess, but it's not easy when your rivals are not only a decade younger but probably graduated from Yale. Some of my staff has quit too, smart enough to realize that they're in a sinking ship. I'm way in over my head with this meeting because my company usually represents businesses on a scale as small as ours but if there's ever been a time to take risks, it's now.

My friend's ex-girlfriend has a relative who works at this company as the president's secretary. She was kind enough to let her know that the contract between her company and their advertisers is nearing an end and told me to try my luck. She worked really hard to help me secure this meeting and here I am on the brink of messing it all up.

My grip on the steering wheel loosens and I look down at my hands, fingers spread out and palms all sweaty.

"Gosh!" I grab my blue Dior Caro bag from the passenger seat and take out my small pack of wipes. I quickly pull out two and begin to wipe roughly at my hands.

"Why are you a nervous mess?"

Why? That's a rather funny question given the fact that I had to drink crappy coffee this morning since Kimi decided we needed to let go of a few luxuries in order to manage our expenses. I understand that but what did the good coffee ever do to her?

"Forget all that, just go blow those old dudes' toupees off and secure this deal."

I did my research on the two executives I'm meeting up with- the vice president and CFO. I know their favourite drinks (both whisky) and how they like them (on the rocks). I know which spas their wives go to every other weekend, the country club they belong to and most importantly, I know all their business achievements. I did my research on every marketing agency the company has signed from the very moment it was formed. I know what they look for in people that are to represent their brand and I'm ready to sell it to them. At least, I hope I'm ready.

"You're ready. You're capable. You're gonna win. You're ready. You're capable. You're gonna win." I take a deep breath before continuing this mantra.

There's suddenly movement with the cars in front of me and I smile.

***

I almost slip and trip on the newly mopped marble tiles as I try to make it through the open door of the elevators in time. I do not make it in time. The tall, blonde lady speaking furiously on the phone probably didn't notice me or hear me shouting for her to hold the lift. Adding one more name to my list of enemies I might never come across in my life again.

There's a sharp pain in my right ankle as I come to a stop in front of the elevator. The other elevator already went up while I was talking to the nice lady behind the front desk. I try to weigh my options as I impatiently tap my left foot and stare at the gold watch on my wrist. I've got five minutes left. I look up at the small screen above the metal doors; the lift is still going up as it passes the 8th floor. I need to be on the 20th floor in five minutes. The stairs are certainly not an option. I sigh in defeat as I take a step back. I consider taking the stairs and stopping at one of the floors to take the elevator, but I'm worried I'll just miss it.

"Why me?" I pout and whine as I lift my laptop bag to take out my iPad. Better to do something useful while I wait here.

When the elevator doors finally open, I am ready to jump in. I can't however, as I must wait for the half a dozen people inside to make their way out painfully slowly. I almost want to snap at them but once more I remind myself that I put myself in this unfortunate situation.

Once I'm finally inside, I return my iPad to my laptop bag where the copies of my proposal are along with my laptop. I'm praying to any deity that has a second to spare to allow the people waiting for me upstairs to be understanding. I need them yet here I am acting like their precious time is of no value to me.

Forget the money that this deal could bring for Mi Ads but all the future clients it will reel in. T&M is a big company and if they work with us, every other business will take interest in us. I've done the marketing for businesses that sell furniture in the past as well so it's not like I'm entering new territory.

You've got this, Olivia.

Do you?

I rush to the receptionist as soon as I'm out of the lift and on the 20th floor. She directs me to a room at the end of the hall, the door to my left. I basically run there. I haven't checked the time for fear of what it might do to my nerves to see just how late I am.

First impressions matter and you're screwing up.

The door is luckily open, and I enter, a smile plastered on my face as I greet the man sitting behind a large glass table. I know him, Thomas Lekan. I have virtual flashcards on him in my iPad.

"My apologies for being late. I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Lekan." I can feel the sweat trinkling down my fingers to my palms.

"Don't worry about it," the large man in a navy-blue suit waves a dismissive hand, "You're not that late."

There really must be a deity out there. How is an executive of one the most successful companies in the history of furniture making and selling being so nonchalant about a nobody such as myself wasting his time? I'm sure he has multimillion dollar deals to be securing and contracts to be signing in Singapore or something. That short prayer for his understanding must have reached very kind ears.

"Please, take a seat." His hand points to one of the three leather chairs in front of me. I pull the one on the left back and sit on the edge as I wipe my hands against my black slacks.

"Thank you again for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Lekan. Will Mr. Taylor be joining us?" I look around the room with large glass windows that overlook the busy streets. These office buildings are right in the heart of corporate Seattle.

"Mr. Taylor won't be able to join us today, unfortunately, but Mr. Garrido will."

I nod, nervously, not knowing what to say in response.

"He had to step out for a phone call but as soon as he returns, we will begin." Mr. Lekan adds with a smile.

I nod with an awkward smile before I begin to take out the copies of the proposal Kimi, Ama and I worked on for three days and nights. Another important thing about Mr. Taylor is that he absolutely prefers physical copies of anything. Since he's not here, I guess it wouldn't have been so bad to keep everything digital like I usually do.

Garrido...Nick Garrido.

I did zero research on him- there's not a single mention of him in my flashcards. I really wasn't expecting to meet him today, let alone have to present my proposal to him. I learned of him from Kimi, who read articles about him to me while I worked on our marketing strategies for the clients still loyal to us. I don't remember much about him but that he's a cutthroat businessman and the vice president of T&M. He's made it to Forbes list of 30 under 30, twice. He's been on the covers of multiple business magazines and won multiple awards.

As my eyes return to the man sitting opposite me, whose fingers dance across the screen of his iPad in scrolling motions, I can't help but feel panic rise inside of me. His bald head shines from the small light embedded above him in the white ceiling.

No toupee to blow off with my presentation.

I also did not research on Mr. Garrido, who according to Google isn't old enough to be wearing toupees to begin with.

What is your deal with toupees?

"Are you nervous?" Mr. Lekan's question brings me out of my thoughts.

A client, potential or signed, has never asked me that question. They always expect me to be on top of my game because well, I should be. How else are they to trust me with their products? It's my job to make sure they're at ease and remove any factors that might cause them to become nervous.

"Not at all." My smile grows stiff as I straighten my back, lifting it from the cold, black leather chair.

A second or so later, I hear someone walk into the room. I do not bother to look back, expecting it to be Mr. Nick Gerrado. I inhale deeply, preparing to try and convince people who have probably only ever met with the most successful businesses to take a chance on my sinking ship.

"I'm sorry about that. Glad you could finally join us, Ms. Watson. I hope you're ready to start." He sits down to Mr. Lekan's right, exactly opposite me, and smiles brightly.

He doesn't miss a beat as he speaks, as his eyes land on me and his bright teeth and shallow dimples come into view. Meanwhile my words are caught in my throat, and I do not even notice when my mouth falls agape and my body freezes.

Nicolas? How?

More importantly, how is he not freaking out the way I am?

And since when is he Nick Garrido?

"Ms. Watson?" Mr. Lekan once more brings my mind back into reality. Into this impossible hell of a situation.

"Yes!" My smile returns as I hand them each a copy of my proposal.

I will my hand not to start shaking, my throat not to let the sudden dryness halt my words and my palms not to start sweating. I do not wish to have to bend to retrieve my bag that's sitting comfortably at my feet for my wipes. I've been doing this for seven years; I can manage now.

In all those seven years, have you had an ex-lover seated across you as you tried to convince him to do business with you?

Well, there was that one time when you had a candlelit dinner with a client. You still had to have meetings even after rejecting him.

Yes, but that was...different. I didn't even know it was going to be a romantic dinner.

This time, I manage to hush my thoughts all on my own. I look up to find the two men still reading from the pages I handed to them. I look away at my iPad before I start staring at Nicolas. I haven't seen him in years but there's suddenly this knot tying in my stomach, yet my heart feels like it just somersaulted.

Focus, Olivia.

"This is an interesting proposal, Ms. Watson." Mr. Lekan speaks.

Interesting? Does that mean fresh and capable of securing a six-figure deal or interesting as in "I've never seen such rubbish in my entire life and certainly did not expect to today"?

Instead of asking that, I simply smile again.

"I'm pleased to hear that Mr. Lekan. I aim to bring a freshness and creativity to your brand. Something that hasn't been done before; youthful and promising of a more exciting tomorrow."

I've seen their past campaigns; they all follow this dull and void pattern. I'm actually a bit surprised they're this big and successful. You can tell from a while away that every time they sign with a new company, they want to bring a different tone to their brand but while simultaneously holding on to the old one. It's been working so far but there's more they could be doing.

"We sell furniture, not fizzy drinks." My forehead wrinkles as I turn to Nico- Mr. Garrido. "Our target market is majority middle-aged people who do not care for freshness and creativity but want what's familiar because that's what promises stability."

What?

"Do your sale plans exclude the youth from your plans? Young homeowners?"

"Not entirely, no." Nico- Mr. Garrido shakes his head. "However, the people who have years of savings for the perfect home, who are willing to spend more money on a coffee table rather than a club, are the ones we have always focused on."

I mean he does have a point, I guess. They're going the quality over quantity route- their current target market is more likely to spend a large sum of money on a bookshelf to impress their old college friends. Still, there's so much opportunity outside that small pool of people and that's what I'm here to sell to them.

"We can't just suddenly change our image." Mr. Lekan comments. "Your proposal seems to be focused on heading our marketing into a whole new direction, Ms. Watson."

"Not head in a new direction, Mr. Lekan." I manage a stiff smile once more. I might be starting to look a bit crazy. "I simply want to add to the brand you have established, add to it, grow the clientele."

I want to add that they must have thought about attracting the youth because that would grow their business but that seems wrong to say. They're the ones with the awards and beach vacation houses and I had to drink cockroach pee labelled as coffee this morning.

Do cockroaches even pee?

Olivia!

"Homeowners are no longer the same people they were five, ten years ago. I bought my first piece of furniture at 19, a small chest of drawers. This purchase was made at a third hand shop because at the time my waitressing job could barely afford to buy me a carton of milk. Today, sixteen-year-olds are making money that allows them to be able to walk into any mall and buy a whole closet in the most expensive furniture shop there."

"Why would they do that when their parents can just buy it for them? Thus taking us back to our target market. Why do we need to spend money on attracting a group of people that do not actually have the buying power when it comes to our products?"

"At 19, I already had my own home. Today, many people as young as 18 have their own homes where they do have the buying power when it comes to furniture. The youth appreciate trends and when we make our products appealing to them, soon everyone will be lining up to own even just a bedside lamp from T&M. There's been a shift in who is buying furniture and T&M needs to open their eyes to that and not get left behind."

The two of them don't say anything but Mr. Lekan nods, a pleased smile playing on his lips. I almost sigh in relief. Nico- Mr. Garrido, doesn't say anything. He bows his head as he continues going through the pages of the blue file in his hands.

"I've looked at your company's profile Ms Watson; you've never taken on clients as big as T&M. Are you sure you can handle it?" Mr. Lekan asks.

"Give me the chance and I'll take your marketing to new heights. Think of it as trying something different; you've always worked with a certain area of business and what my team and I will do is take you into a whole new world."

"T&M is past the level of experiments, Ms. Watson. The board won't be fond of the idea of becoming your company's experiment." Nico- Mr. Garrido, comments and I remind myself that this is not a personal vendetta and any other client would be asking these questions.

"T&M wouldn't be our experiment. We're very capable of not only maintaining the sales your current advertisers have produced but bringing the numbers up."

"How do you plan to do so?"

I've prepped for this question yet as he asks it, putting his forearms on the glass desk and leaning in, the words melt to a puddle in my mind.

"How sure are you that your plan to take us into a whole new world won't backfire?"

"By introducing campaigns that will cater to both your current target market and the new one. I'm talking combining what you already do physically such as the banners at malls and online advertisements with social media. That is the most powerful tool to connecting with a younger market and keeping them interested. We won't be abandoning your current loyal customers, just making it easier for them to shop for and with the younger generation."

"That's nothing new, Ms. Watson. That's something our current contract can offer and what any other company with a much better profile will offer."

Is he trying to be difficult? No, I'm overreacting, I've dealt with worse.

I sigh before shutting my mouth immediately.

"Can but hasn't. Mi Ads has a track record that speaks for itself; all the businesses that have signed with us have had their turnover increased tremendously since. T&M is successful, but it will reach stagnancy if it does not bring itself up to date with the world around it and form relationships with the newest people stepping into its stores all over the country and abroad."

I gulp nervously as I try to read their expressions. Mr. Lekan's smile calms me down but Nico-Mr. Garrido, does not look even the slightest bit impressed.

Of course he isn't. Your track record is made up of business that make, in a year, less than a quarter of T&M's turnover in half a year.

I find myself battling with the white cap of the bottle of water in front of me. My eyes see the glass next to it, but my mind does not register its use as I bring the now open bottle to my lips which now feel very dry despite the nude lipstick.

"I'm impressed, Ms. Watson." Mr. Lekan speaks. I smile and turn to him before taking another sip of my bottled water.

Okay I have never attended a business meeting and I know nothing about selling furniture or marketing so forgive me if I wrote nonsense here😭😭😭. I tried to make it work with what I could get from Google.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked this chapter❤️. I hope it wasn't too long for a first chapter.