Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“I’ll stand,” I say firmly.
“Then start by telling us why you think Moore’s Department Store needs you,” Ethan says, and while it’s a hard-hitting question, I’m not one bit off kilter. I expected this question. I’m prepared, but I also have found new inspiration for a newly-formed reply as well.
“Your brand is, frankly, a little bit confused, much like the lobby I was just inside. The ceiling is industrial, the reception desk elegant. What are you trying to be, which translates to the stores? Are you Target or Saks? There’s no clear message.”
A man with gray hair and a goatee to the left of Ethan chimes in. “What’s wrong with being more than one thing? We attract a broad audience.”
“And if we as customers are just out and about shopping, that’s fun. If we have specific needs, we’ll go to the place that can deliver that, with certainty.”
“And you think adding a luxury brand does what for us?” Ethan asks. “It feels like it’s just muddling up the waters more.”
“I think you’ve muddled things up enough that the un-muddling—if I may make up that word, as it’s highly appropriate at present—comes by way of giving people a clear reason to come to the store. Don’t be average. Saks has Chanel in their store. They have Burberry in their store, carved out as an extra location. You don’t have to throw out what you are doing to try something new, and I’d like that something new to be the Zoey brand.”
He eases back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. “And yet, you came to us eager to give us exactly what we’ve been giving the public?”
He speaks to me as if we haven’t had this conversation, and it’s tricky to bite back a reply that would reference as much. “I was grateful to be offered the chance to bring you an option for your new season. Which I did, but in good conscience, I could not present only that requested option. I felt it was critical for you and me that I offer you a way I believe you can grow and stand out in a competitive market.”
“Why not just approach Chanel and Prada and convince them to join us?” he counters.
I dare to be real. “You’re too much like Target right now. They won’t let it happen. You have to create your own high-end brand.”
“She’s right,” the fifty-something female with red hair on Ethan’s opposite side says as she eases forward and into the conversation. “We’ve downgraded our brand too much. I’ve talked to them. They won’t have us, and we’ve left ourselves in a piece of the market that is becoming highly discounted. I, for one, would love to see the designs.”
I swear there is a hint of a smile on Ethan’s lips, but I cannot quite read where that places his mindset. As if he led her to the point she’s at right now, and I think he might have done just that. He motions to me with his pen. “Show us.”
And here we go, I think.
My work on display.
With Cindy’s help, I make my presentation, and I’m pleased at the feedback I receive on many of the designs, and at how easily I answer many of the questions thrown my way. When it’s all said and done, Ethan takes the reins again. “We need a few minutes to discuss. Cindy, escort Sofia to the break area, please.”
“Thank you everyone,” I say, and I head for the door.
“You did amazing,” Cindy assures me as we walk to our right and down a hallway. “I think it really went marvelously.” She directs me to a fancy sitting room with a coffee pot and a display of snacks. “Try to relax. I’ll check on you in a bit.” She departs, and air rushes from my lungs.
I did it. I made the presentation, and my worst fear that I’d be embarrassed, and ran out of town didn’t happen, at least not publicly. I really don’t know what Ethan has in store for me, but I suspect I will know soon enough. Only soon enough stretches far and wide. I’ve had two coffees and done a whole lot of pacing an hour later, and I’m still waiting. Cindy has checked on me twice and informed me there seems to be quite the debate going on.
At an hour and fifteen minutes, Cindy appears. “Ready?”
“Yes and no,” I say, my hands trembling with the rush of adrenaline shooting through me. “Do you know anything?”
She shakes her head. “No, sorry, but I really think you got this. There’s a reason it took so long for them to talk. You were good in there.”
But was I good enough for Ethan to forget I let him call me Zoey?
“Thank you, Cindy,” I say, and she motions me onward, and soon I’m walking past the conference room glass to realize there’s only one person in the room. And that one person is Ethan. I pant out a breath and try to calm my racing heart as Cindy opens the door for me and mouths, “Good luck.”