Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I looked at the clock on the wall.
“Oh, shit.” I said. “We need to go.”
Then, the spell of lust broken, I raised her up off the floor and took her into my arms. “Thank you, sweet thing,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m in so much trouble, but I needed that so much.”
“Thank you, miss,” Mandy murmured back. “I didn’t know how much I needed someone like you to be so strict with me.”
CHAPTER 23
Melissa
The meeting went better than I had dreamed it could, right up to the very end. From the first slide, I knew I had all of them—two vice presidents and the creative director of NMB—in the palm of my hand. I did wonder if the smile on Stuart’s face as he heard me go over the roll-out plan he had already approved had something extra in it—a curve at the corner of his mouth that suggested my session with Mandy might already have come to his attention—but when he spoke, he backed me up so thoroughly I couldn’t help blushing.
“No,” he said to Bradley Verger, the VP of Assessment, “this is completely Melissa’s idea, and the initiative to flesh it out was all on her end. I have to confess that I think it’s brilliant.”
The I have to confess made my heart glow. The idea of this man with such incredibly high standards—the man who had taken me in hand in every way—complimenting me so thoroughly, let alone crediting me with all the work, threatened to make me swoon.
I love him. The thought burst into my mind, and I thrust it down for the moment as I responded to the focus Stuart’s comment had put on me.
“Thank you,” I said, “but I need to thank Stuart for giving me the space to work on it—and I have to thank Mandy Pollock, who worked hard on it with me, to get the materials ready for today.”
“Sure,” said Bradley, “but I’m going to echo your boss’ opinion that this is brilliant. I think only a young woman with your ambivalent needs could have come up with it.”
My tummy flipped and I felt my cheeks go hot. I knew what he meant—of course I did, because it represented the kind of language Assessment used all the time. I hadn’t really connected the idea of ambivalence to me, as silly as that failure suddenly seemed.
“So,” said John Grezili, the creative director of NMB, “really that’s on Stuart for taking Melissa for his team and developing her talent so quickly.”
I fought for my composure. I looked at Stuart, hoping I would see an easy smile and hear a dismissive remark. Instead, I saw that his expression had turned very firm.
“Actually, gentlemen, now that we’re agreed that Your Secret Garden is a go, we have a related matter—in the vein of Miss Mitropoulos’ professional development—to deal with.”
My face had begun truly to burn. My heart rate sped up to what felt like three times its normal rate. I looked around the big conference room table to see if the other executives’ faces held any promising signs for me—consternation, confusion, or even simple disinterest.
Instead I saw knowing smiles. Bradley, John, and Victor Maltby, the VP of Marketing, looked back at me with clear knowledge of some terrible humiliation about to befall me.
I had a moment of pure cognitive dissonance: only a few seconds before, those same powerful men had praised me to the heavens, had made it clear that my initiative’s future—and my own—were very bright. Somehow, I understood at a new, visceral level, here at Selecta, a prosperous career and abject shame didn’t stand in the clear conflict they might have seemed to create anywhere else.
Stuart cleared his throat, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent my heart racing. “Miss Mitropoulos, I’m afraid we have a serious matter to address. It has come to my attention that you took it upon yourself to discipline Mandy Pollock this morning without proper authorization. Your expression of gratitude for her help just now doesn’t set the matter in, let’s say, the most positive possible light.”
My heart plummeted. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“This is a clear violation of company protocol,” Stuart continued, his voice stern. “At Selecta, we take our hierarchies very seriously. You overstepped your bounds, Melissa.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “I… I didn’t realize…” I stammered, lying instinctively, out of sheer terror, but Stuart held up a hand to silence me.
“Ignorance is not an excuse,” he said firmly, “even if you’re telling the truth, which I doubt.” Then, to my horror, he pressed a button on the intercom. “Please send in Mandy and Sharon.”
The door opened, and Mandy walked in, her eyes downcast. Behind her strode Sharon Fagan, her face a mask of cool professionalism. My stomach churned as I began to realize the full extent of what was about to happen.