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“What an absolute gent,” Carter says.
“I know, right!” Angela beams.
What Angela doesn’t know is that I appeared to have lost my ability to breathe when his hands brushed mine in taking some of the files from me. Aside from the time Carter sent me flying into Marcus’s arms at Elevation nearly a year ago, and the very occasional brush of our hands when he passes me my coffee, it was the only time his skin had come into contact with mine, and it was electrifying. The time in the lift going from one floor to the next had been simultaneously endless and also far too short.
“Then, he actually helped us carry them to the storage cupboard and placed them on the shelf, and then said ‘see you later,’and walked off, but not before giving Lila akillersmile. I mean, seriously, if looks could kill, that smile would have finished her off, for sure,” Angela concludes.
“Whatever,” I say, refocusing my gaze back on the screen in front of me and downing another gulp of coffee.
“Fuck, babe,” Carter says, shifting back in his chair to look at his screen with an amused smirk.
I shake my head, tapping the screen to play my video back one final time. I pause it, zooming in to slice a quarter of a second off one of the clips at the end and add an extra filter to brighten the neon glow around the text. Perfect.
***
One hour later, I’m standing at the head of a large conference table in one of the glass-walled meeting rooms, my video ready to play on the digital screen behind me. Angela and Carter are sat on either side of me, laptops open in front of them.
Stephen enters the room, followed by Eric Sinclair.
“Eric, you remember Lila,” Stephen says, the door closing behind them.
“Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Sinclair.” I reach my hand out to shake his.
“Likewise. I love what you’ve been doing on the campaign so far. Can’t wait to see the final pieces for tomorrow’s opening.”
“Thank you. We’re really looking forward to it.”
A moment later, Jenny, one of the graphic designers comes in, followed by Lauren, the PR rep. They all take their seats around the table.
Where is he?
I try going over my notes in my head, glancing back at the still frame of the video on the screen behind me – bold colours, neon lights, the image of the venue in the background.
Lead with the concept.
Emphasise energy. Excitement.
Show the video. Highlight the engagement numbers.
I swallow, reciting the details in my head.
22,000 likes. 6,000 comments. 2,700 shares and reposts. You’ve got this.
I take one final breath and turn to face the room, ready to introduce my concept, when the door to the meeting room opens again and my throat freezes.
Marcus walks in, tall and composed, with his usual air of effortless elegance. His eyes briefly meet mine as his mouth opens into a wide smile, his head dipping with a nod of acknowledgement before he takes a seat beside Eric. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, resting his notepad on the table.
Every single word I just had on the tip of my tongue has evaporated, leaving me with a blank slate where my presentation used to be.
Lead with the concept,a voice in my brain reminds me, but nothing comes.
“Lila, whenever you’re ready,” Stephen says.
I blink.
Just start. Say something. Anything.
I clear my throat. “So, um,” I begin, forcing air into my lungs as I turn to face the image on the screen.