member of the company would file in. Corey Steele, stakeholders, all staring at
her, wondering who this girl was, this supposed expert, the one who was going
to tell them exactly what their company needed.
And there would be John Wells, sitting in the center chair, head fresh with the news from Penny Fitch that he was looking at a cheater, a woman so inept
she had to rely on the help of her little high school crush—again—just to get the
job done.
She took a swallow from her lukewarm bottle of water, then raised it into the
air. Here's to me.
* * *
“Well, Kate, I think you did a great job.”
“You're too kind, John.” Kate was shutting down her laptop and unplugging
some cables. It had gone pretty well, despite all the pre-game rattling. In some
ways, it had made her throw caution to the wind. What was there to lose anymore?
There were plenty of smiles and eye contact. John never once jumped up to
point a finger at her and shout “Cheater!” as two strong-armed goons grabbed her to cart her away. That would probably come during her dreams tonight.
Corey Steele had done enough nodding that she felt she might have won him over. Unless he was just being polite. He had turned out to be a pretty nice guy
despite his metallic name.
She couldn't help noticing that Penny, who had sat next to Mr. Steele, had done a lot of fitful glancing in his direction. Something going on there? Does she hit on every able-bodied male in the county? Or was she finally feeling some guilt in her shriveled little soul?
Whatever. Penny could take care of herself. Peter could take care of himself.
She was drained, wrung out, and the week wasn't even half-over yet. Now it was
back to Chicago, where she would wait for the call from Nitrovex to see if Garman had made it to the final round. It was going to be a long few days.
Most of the others had left the conference room. John stayed, sitting on the
edge of the table, glancing around the room. “Still getting used to this new facility. Far cry from the dirt-floor pole barn we started out in.”
Kate smiled, nodded as she kept packing. “I'm sure.” Was something on his
mind?
“You know, I have to confess. It's hard for an old goat like me to accept some of these changes. Websites, new logos, branding. My grandson tells me I
need it, and I'm sure he's right. Just kind of hard to let go of the past sometimes.”
He was watching her, something deep in his wrinkled blue eyes. He
reminded her of her grandfather, a man who had died when she was ten, leaving
only memories of pipe smoke, stories, and swing-set pushes.
“I suppose we all have to face the future some time,” she said, forcing a half
smile. “Seems to me you're doing it quite well.”
He chuckled. “Some days are better than others. I've made my share of
mistakes, had some missteps along the way. Some my doing, some not. Trick was to keep moving forward.”
She finished sliding her laptop in its case and zipped it shut. All packed. She
hoisted the strap over her shoulder. John still sat, watching, arms crossed, genial smile on his face. She felt like hugging him for some reason, not selling her down the river and all. It had already been a long day.
“We'll give you the word by Friday at the latest,” he said at last, standing.
“Once I have a chance to review the other three candidates' proposal with the rest of the committee, we'll narrow it down to two.”
“Fair enough.”
“For my part, I hope we see you again in two weeks.”
