Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Shelby gasps, probably realizing that her boss is a walking, talking HR nightmare.
A whooshing sound echoes through my ears as I try to breathe through my annoyance and calmly have him clarify what he’s implying about my appearance. “I’m sorry?”
He motions toward my chest, and my eyes widen. “You have crumbs all over you, Miss Bennett.”
My face heats, but I push down the embarrassment and swipe my shirt, ridding it of the breadcrumbs.
“I’ll endeavor to be more presentable in the future.” I look toward Shelby. “I was unsure when and where I’m to eat lunch, so I ate here so I could continue to work. It won’t happen again.”
“We’ll see,” he says, turning toward the door. “There’s a meeting for the Diosa team in ten. Be there on time.”
He strides from the door, leaving Shelby and me alone. She crosses her arms, watching him disappear around the corner.
“Raven, I’m so sorry. He’s a bit stressed since landing this new client and the growth of Cavendish Group in such a short time.”
I smile, hoping to ease her worry. She’s likely fretting that I’m about to quit, leaving them even more short-staffed. Oh, the trouble this woman probably endures at the hands of her boss.
“No worries, Shelby. I’ve worked with a few men like Charles Cavendish. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Her shoulders appear to relax, and a loud breath escapes her lips. “Well, I’ll work to get him under control.”
With that, she spins on her heels and stalks off after him.
Something tells me he isn’t going to make my job easy, but I refuse to allow him to mess this up for me. He was equally involved in the situation at Silver. I won’t allow him to pin this all on me.
“Diosa needs someone like Summer Smith to represent their brand. A rising pop star who’s currently the darling of the media. It’s perfect.”
A man with greasy hair and too-thick eyebrows addresses the room filled with suits.
Since the team that will lead Diosa is not quite assembled, Charles invited the C-Suite to attend a meeting about the campaign so the ball can get rolling. Shelby instructed me when I arrived to take notes for her.
I listen as this new face to me drones on for several minutes about the potential this pairing could have. I write down everything that’s being said and manage to refrain from rolling my eyes when he outlines Summer Smith’s highlights.
It all sounds like something he’s gotten directly from a tabloid.
How is any of this relevant to Diosa?
Outside the fact that she’s the most popular singer of the year, what does she bring to the label as a whole? More importantly, what does the label bring to her? I’ve yet to hear how this fits Summer.
Diosa is elegant, and Summer Smith is the epitome of a cool girl. She’s a better fit for the AlteredX athletic brand.
Even I know more about her than this stuffy suit does, and I didn’t even know we were going to be discussing her today.
Mr. Keller interrupts a few times to have his say, and it’s obvious he doesn’t know jack about her either. In fact, I question why he’s even here.
I stifle a groan but eventually realize they will lose a big client if they continue down this route. I try to keep my mouth shut, opening and then closing it and biting my lip. But eventually, I can’t take it anymore, and I raise my hand.
Mr. Keller glares at me, motioning for me to put my hand down, but I act as though I don’t see him, keeping my hand up and smiling at all the suits staring in my direction.
“Miss Bennett, do you have a question?” the greasy-haired man leading the discussion asks while sounding annoyed.
A few of the suits chuckle under their breaths, but I stuff down the embarrassment and forge on. I didn’t get this far in life by allowing some assholes to run me off.
Mr. Keller clears his throat. “I’m not sure Miss Bennett is ready to offer ideas in front of this management team, sir.”
I shoot him an annoyed look before masking it behind a wall of fake cheer. “I assure you and Mr. Cavendish, I wouldn’t waste anyone’s time by offering ideas I feel bring nothing to the table.”
Charles’s eyes narrow, and his hands ball into fists.
My presence is definitely not wanted by him, and that fact not only annoys me, but it also bothers me for reasons beyond the boss factor. And I don’t like those feelings.
“Well, then, Miss Bennett, get on with it. I’m the CEO of the company and have things to do with my time.”
The CEO of the company.
What a damn egomaniac. I bet everyone in the room would be interested in knowing what the CEO does to strangers at clubs in coat closets.