Page 27
Story: Designed for Disaster
“Pam didn’t leave me much choice,” I said, only half joking. I took the seat next to Sheila, and Natasha sat next to me. “I presume you want an update on the new line?”
“Yes,” she said. “That would be great. We can do that after.”
“After?” Natasha said, frowning as she glanced around the table. “Is that not what this meeting is about? Was I supposed to meet someone else?” She half rose out of her seat. Sheila waved off her concern.
“Not at all. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Next to Trent.” She held her hands up, squaring the two of us off like we were a portrait. “Looking picture perfect.”
“What’s going on?” I asked her, a spark of irritation flaring to life. I didn’t like the way her smile broadened a little too much like a Bond villain. Sheila waved her hand, and one of her interns started up a PowerPoint presentation. An image of my grandparents appeared on the screen—Nana Dee and Papa Davis. They were so young. Probably in their early thirties, back when they’d just started the business. It was a lovely photo and stirred up all kinds of memories for me, but I didn’t have time for a walk down memory lane.
“Sheila, I’m in the middle of dealing with our international markets. Is there a reason I’m here?” I asked pointedly.
“Yes,” she said. “We have an idea to float by you. So, the team and I have been talking…”
“Yes,” I muttered, suspecting I wasn’t going to like whatever came next.
“And we want to run a promotion announcing your relationship with Natasha to the public.”
Natasha stomped on my foot under the table. I could practically hear what she was silently screaming from her seat.Fake relationship! This is one thousand percent not real.
I glanced at her, silently commanding her not to out me in front of the entire marketing team. It would spread through the building like wildfire and get back to Dee in no time. Dee would be so disappointed, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that look on her face. She’d had such a pep in her step since Natasha had become my “girlfriend.”
“I’m not sure I’m following,” Natasha said. “Why would the public care about our relationship?”
“It’s a huge part of the history of Saunders Furniture to have a strong couple at the helm,” Sheila explained. “It’s all about the way the company is perceived. We want to instill a sense of confidence in our buyers ahead of the introduction of the sustainability line. We want them to think, ‘Yes, I trust those guys. I believe those guys know what they’re doing. And I will buy their products because of that, even if it’s a new line that’s going in a different direction.’ These people aren’t just buying furniture, Trent. They’re buying you.”
I rubbed the space between my eyebrows. What in the ever-loving fuck…I swear to god, if I found out Pam had any idea what this meeting was about and still put it in my schedule, she was never going to hear the end of it.
“What do you think?” Sheila asked.
I climbed to my feet. This was absolutelynothappening, and I was going to make thatabundantlyclear so we never needed to have this conversation again. “This isn’t going to be a PR campaign,” I announced, making eye contact with every member of the marketing team so they could get the full impact of my glare. “Get back to what matters: the furniture.”
Most of the marketing team looked appropriately cowed, but Sheila—damn her—was made of sterner stuff. “Trent, it’s not all about the furniture.”
“It should be!” I growled.
“Dee trusted me,” Sheila said. “You should too.”
Bringing Dee into this conversation wasn’t going to sway me. I ran the company now. “First of all, we sell furniture, not relationships. Second of all, Natasha wouldn’t enjoy this kind of campaign. She doesn’t like the public attention.” Even when the guys had asked her questions at dinner, she’d seemed anxious, changing the subject to her friend Stacy the moment she could. If that was enough to make her uncomfortable, I didn’t want to put her through this kind of nonsense. Being grilled by marketing was a nightmare. Hell, it was the last thingIwanted to do, especially considering this was all a giant sham.
“The promo gets easier with practice,” Sheila was quick to point out. She leaned around me to look at Natasha. “I promise.”
I shook my head. “Don’t you remember how things ended with the last couple that ran Saunders?”
The room grew quiet, uneasy. Sure, it was great to throw Nana Dee and Papa Davis up on the screen as an example of the good old days, and even my parents had some good years at first—for the company, anyway—but by the time their marriage came toan end, they’d almost managed to drive Saunders Furniture into the ground. I’d had to step in and take over.
“Point taken,” Sheila said, drumming her fingers against the table. I could tell I’d finally gotten through to her.
“Good,” I snapped, glancing around at the team. “Are we done here?”
“We’re done,” Sheila said.
Without a word, the team split off, scurrying back to their desks. I caught Natasha by the elbow as she made for the door, guiding her to the side of the room. “I need a word.”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked, glancing down where my hand wrapped around her arm.
I released her. She immediately crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. The stare was icy. What the hell was her problem? Was she really that upset I’d shot down the idea of the marketing campaign? I’d have thought she’d be thrilled to be let off the hook. Whatever—if she wanted to be in a snit about it, that was her business.Mybusiness was to let her know my plans. “I have somewhere to take you after work.”
Natasha bristled. “Oh, gee, sounds fun and not weirdly cryptic at all.”
“Yes,” she said. “That would be great. We can do that after.”
“After?” Natasha said, frowning as she glanced around the table. “Is that not what this meeting is about? Was I supposed to meet someone else?” She half rose out of her seat. Sheila waved off her concern.
“Not at all. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Next to Trent.” She held her hands up, squaring the two of us off like we were a portrait. “Looking picture perfect.”
“What’s going on?” I asked her, a spark of irritation flaring to life. I didn’t like the way her smile broadened a little too much like a Bond villain. Sheila waved her hand, and one of her interns started up a PowerPoint presentation. An image of my grandparents appeared on the screen—Nana Dee and Papa Davis. They were so young. Probably in their early thirties, back when they’d just started the business. It was a lovely photo and stirred up all kinds of memories for me, but I didn’t have time for a walk down memory lane.
“Sheila, I’m in the middle of dealing with our international markets. Is there a reason I’m here?” I asked pointedly.
“Yes,” she said. “We have an idea to float by you. So, the team and I have been talking…”
“Yes,” I muttered, suspecting I wasn’t going to like whatever came next.
“And we want to run a promotion announcing your relationship with Natasha to the public.”
Natasha stomped on my foot under the table. I could practically hear what she was silently screaming from her seat.Fake relationship! This is one thousand percent not real.
I glanced at her, silently commanding her not to out me in front of the entire marketing team. It would spread through the building like wildfire and get back to Dee in no time. Dee would be so disappointed, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that look on her face. She’d had such a pep in her step since Natasha had become my “girlfriend.”
“I’m not sure I’m following,” Natasha said. “Why would the public care about our relationship?”
“It’s a huge part of the history of Saunders Furniture to have a strong couple at the helm,” Sheila explained. “It’s all about the way the company is perceived. We want to instill a sense of confidence in our buyers ahead of the introduction of the sustainability line. We want them to think, ‘Yes, I trust those guys. I believe those guys know what they’re doing. And I will buy their products because of that, even if it’s a new line that’s going in a different direction.’ These people aren’t just buying furniture, Trent. They’re buying you.”
I rubbed the space between my eyebrows. What in the ever-loving fuck…I swear to god, if I found out Pam had any idea what this meeting was about and still put it in my schedule, she was never going to hear the end of it.
“What do you think?” Sheila asked.
I climbed to my feet. This was absolutelynothappening, and I was going to make thatabundantlyclear so we never needed to have this conversation again. “This isn’t going to be a PR campaign,” I announced, making eye contact with every member of the marketing team so they could get the full impact of my glare. “Get back to what matters: the furniture.”
Most of the marketing team looked appropriately cowed, but Sheila—damn her—was made of sterner stuff. “Trent, it’s not all about the furniture.”
“It should be!” I growled.
“Dee trusted me,” Sheila said. “You should too.”
Bringing Dee into this conversation wasn’t going to sway me. I ran the company now. “First of all, we sell furniture, not relationships. Second of all, Natasha wouldn’t enjoy this kind of campaign. She doesn’t like the public attention.” Even when the guys had asked her questions at dinner, she’d seemed anxious, changing the subject to her friend Stacy the moment she could. If that was enough to make her uncomfortable, I didn’t want to put her through this kind of nonsense. Being grilled by marketing was a nightmare. Hell, it was the last thingIwanted to do, especially considering this was all a giant sham.
“The promo gets easier with practice,” Sheila was quick to point out. She leaned around me to look at Natasha. “I promise.”
I shook my head. “Don’t you remember how things ended with the last couple that ran Saunders?”
The room grew quiet, uneasy. Sure, it was great to throw Nana Dee and Papa Davis up on the screen as an example of the good old days, and even my parents had some good years at first—for the company, anyway—but by the time their marriage came toan end, they’d almost managed to drive Saunders Furniture into the ground. I’d had to step in and take over.
“Point taken,” Sheila said, drumming her fingers against the table. I could tell I’d finally gotten through to her.
“Good,” I snapped, glancing around at the team. “Are we done here?”
“We’re done,” Sheila said.
Without a word, the team split off, scurrying back to their desks. I caught Natasha by the elbow as she made for the door, guiding her to the side of the room. “I need a word.”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked, glancing down where my hand wrapped around her arm.
I released her. She immediately crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. The stare was icy. What the hell was her problem? Was she really that upset I’d shot down the idea of the marketing campaign? I’d have thought she’d be thrilled to be let off the hook. Whatever—if she wanted to be in a snit about it, that was her business.Mybusiness was to let her know my plans. “I have somewhere to take you after work.”
Natasha bristled. “Oh, gee, sounds fun and not weirdly cryptic at all.”
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