Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“I…” My heart rate picked up. “Are you sure?”
“Judging by the fact that Layla had me wait out here for you and keeps asking if you’ve arrived yet? Very.” She grinned. “Eight hours into the new year, and your ‘dreams’ are coming true. Now, move. I’ll meet you in there.”
“Yeah.” My pulse rushed in my ears. “Okay. I can do this. I can… represent.”
I hurried next door to my cubicle, where I shucked my coat and grabbed my tablet. My brain was still sluggish from too little sleep and too much overthinking, which was good since otherwise I might panic-flail.
This was my shot. Fucking finally. They’d have to listen to my ideas. Because while I wouldn’t wish a PR nightmare like this on anyone, I could help mitigate it… and prove my worth at the same time.
I practically sprinted down the hall to the tiny conference room where Layla was holding court with all the team leaders and key personnel at PennCo Fiber. The room was more crowded than I’d ever seen it, and I paused for a second at the door to catch my breath and find an available seat to slip into.
Layla glanced toward the door almost immediately and clocked me there. With a small, businesslike smile, she nodded toward an empty chair halfway down the conference table right next to Nataly. “Reagan, thanks for coming in. Have a seat. We’re just about to get started.”
I nodded and swallowed hard, trying to project professionalism as I walked around the table.
Layla James, the VP of Pennington Industries and head of the PennCo Fiber subsidiary, was maybe forty and had excellent taste, as evidenced by her neat twist of auburn hair, her cream wool power suit, and her flawless Louboutin heels. Though she wasn’t my type, she was undeniably attractive. More than that, she seemed intelligent and competent.
She wasn’t my direct boss, but I’d met her several times in the weeks I’d worked at PennCo. Stephen had even arranged a meeting for the three of us so I could try to sell her on some of the social media campaigns I’d brainstormed. Although she hadn’t (yet) given the go-ahead to any of my ideas, she’d listened courteously while I’d outlined all my ideas and even asked some intelligent questions before eventually saying no. She seemed open-minded and willing to take me seriously… which was more than I’d gotten from certain incredibly sexy boss people I refused to think about by name.
When we were all settled and turned our attention to her, Layla outlined the situation in precise, no-nonsense terms. Nova had been arrested at the scene of the accident. Now that her lawyers were involved, she’d clammed up, but the damage had already been done. Images of Nova stumbling out of her wrecked car, all smeared makeup and wild eyes with the “Elustre: Sponsor of your New Year’s Resolutions” motto stretched across her ample chest, had become an instant meme. One that was currently being shared by every New Year’s reveler who’d woken up hungover and regretful this morning… which was a lot of people.
“We’re still investigating where she got the shirt,” Layla said. “I’ve addressed the issue with our security team, and the folks at Apex Athletics are conducting their own internal review—”
“It had to be them,” someone further down the table interrupted. “No one here would do such a thing.”
“You may be correct, Stewart.” Layla’s voice sounded strained, and she cleared her throat. “But pointing fingers at our largest fashion brand partner is a waste of time and energy. What we need to focus on now is how we’re going to fix this and move forward. We’ve already developed a targeted, multipronged approach.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Step one: PennCo Fiber releases a statement to the press disavowing any connection to Ms. Davidson—”
“But they’ll want to know why she was wearing a piece of Elustre clothing.”
Everyone looked around to see who’d interrupted, and I was horrified to find that it was me. I swallowed and straightened in my chair. “I… I’m sorry to interrupt. I… I only meant that the video shows there is a connection between Elustre and Nova Davidson, and they’re going to want an explanation, whether we disavow it or not. We don’t have one yet. So… maybe in the meantime, we could use this opportunity, this media exposure, to showcase the good things the company’s doing? Like, I’ve written several posts about sustainability in manufacturing and how we pay our workers a living wage, and…” Layla’s expression didn’t change even a fraction, and it became even harder to push the words out with confidence. “…maybe that’s some information we could include when we draft the statement, that’s all.”
When I finally shut my mouth, the room went dead silent, and everyone looked to Layla for a reaction before offering their own.