Page 2 of Most Likely to Deny Love (Yearbook #2)
JACK
I’d strategically scheduled these Monday morning meetings to set the tone for the week, though lately I found myself looking forward to them for entirely unprofessional reasons.
Right on cue, Mia Harris appeared in my line of sight, her dark hair bouncing with each step, a portfolio clutched against her chest.
Wait until she passes before you get up, Sullivan. Don’t make it obvious.
I shuffled papers on my desk, pretending to organize something important while tracking her movement in my peripheral vision. When she drew close enough, I stood and smoothed my tie, timing my exit to coincide with hers.
“Good morning, Mr. Sullivan.” She gave me a professional nod, her gray eyes briefly meeting mine before sliding away.
“Ms Harris,” I responded, keeping my voice neutral despite the way my pulse kicked up. I fell into step behind her, maintaining what I hoped was an appropriate distance. Don’t look at her ass. Don’t look at her ass.
I looked at her ass.
The trim pencil skirt she wore hugged curves that haunted my dreams, and I forced my gaze forward, silently reciting sales figures to distract myself.
When we reached the conference room, I reached around her to push the door open for her.
“Um, thank you.” She brushed past me, close enough that I caught the scent of something floral and warm. Vanilla maybe? Whatever it was, it was fucking amazing.
Get it together. She’s your employee. She’s off-limits.
I followed her in, choosing a seat on the opposite side of the conference room from where she sat with her assistant. Distance was my only defense against Mia Harris and the way she made me want to forget every professional boundary I’d ever set.
Once the teams were seated, Mia and her assistant distributed printed reports. Tamping down my frustration that it was the twenty-first century and this company still hadn’t digitized, I held my hand out for my copy, as Mia approached.
“Your copy, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Thank you.”
Our eyes met as I reached for it, and for a split second, I caught something in her gray gaze—uncertainty? Curiosity? Whatever it was vanished as our fingers brushed during the handoff, and an electric jolt shot up my arm. Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled her hand back quickly, as if burned.
Did she feel that too?
She turned away before I could analyze her expression, retreating to her seat. I forced my attention to the report, though my fingertips still tingled with the phantom sensation of her skin against mine.
Neil Porter, the Eastern sales division head, stood and began his presentation, fumbling for nearly a minute with the display connector before finally getting his slides to appear.
As I expected, his presentation was total horseshit.
This quarter was down 9% year over year.
Customer acquisition costs up 16%. Retention dropping.
I made notes in the margins of my report, already mentally composing the difficult conversation Porter and I would be having later.
I glanced up, catching Mia’s profile as she watched Porter’s presentation. Her expression remained professionally neutral, but I noticed the slight tightening around her eyes, the barely perceptible set of her jaw. She knew Porter’s excuses were bullshit, too. Smart woman.
A movement several seats away from Mia caught my attention. There was a young blonde woman checking her phone, clearly bored by the presentation. She glanced up, caught me watching, and quickly put the phone away, flashing me a practiced smile before turning her attention back to Porter.
When Mia rose and walked to the front of the room, her posture shifted subtly. Shoulders back, chin lifted. She connected her tablet to the display, and her slides appeared with none of the technical fumbling that had plagued Porter.
“Good morning, everyone,” she began, her voice clear and confident. “The Western division has seen some positive momentum this quarter, though we still have significant challenges to address.”
I flipped through her section of the report as she spoke. Since her promotion to manager three months ago, right before I joined Catalyst, the Western division’s numbers had steadily improved. Not dramatic enough to save the company on their own, but the trajectory was unmistakable.
She outlined her strategy, and I found myself nodding along. Her recommendations mirrored notes I’d made just days earlier.
“Ms. Harris, your retention improvements are impressive. What specific methods are you implementing that could potentially be applied to other divisions?”
Her eyes met mine directly, not a hint of uncertainty in them now. This was her element.
“Thank you, Mr. Sullivan. We’ve instituted a tiered follow-up system based on customer engagement patterns.” She pulled up a slide I hadn’t seen yet. “We’ve found that personalizing our approach based on these five customer archetypes has significantly reduced churn.”
“Please elaborate.”
I listened closely as she explained what she meant.
“And you developed this system?”
“Yes. I analyzed our client data from the past three years and identified behavioral patterns that preceded account cancellations.”
I nodded, impressed. “Have you shared this methodology with Porter’s team?”
Something flickered across her face, frustration, maybe, but disappeared quickly. “I’ve offered. Multiple times.”
Interesting. I made a note in my margin: Territory issues between divisions?
Mia continued her presentation, outlining specific targets for the next quarter. The plans were ambitious but realistic, which was exactly the balance I looked for.
As she opened the floor for questions, a manicured hand shot up from the Eastern division’s section. The blonde who’d been on her phone earlier.
“Yes, Tiffany?” Mia acknowledged her with professional courtesy.
“I just think it’s, like, important to point out that the Western division has all the established clients.
” There was a saccharine note to her voice that grated on my nerves.
“So it’s not really a fair comparison to our division, which has to work with all the harder new accounts. Right, Mr. Sullivan?”
She turned her wide-eyed gaze to me, clearly expecting me to agree. I kept my expression neutral, wondering why she was directing this to me rather than Mia.
“That’s not actually accurate,” Mia responded before I could. “If you look at slide eight, you’ll see our new business acquisition breakdown. Sixty percent of our accounts this quarter are new clients.”
Tiffany’s smile tightened. “But aren’t your territories like, way better?”
“Do you have the territory analysis to support your concern?” I interrupted, my patience waning. I’d reviewed the territory maps when I first joined and found them reasonably balanced.
Tiffany blinked at me. “Um, no, but it’s just something everyone knows.”
I scanned the room, noting the HR manager, Rebecca, if I remembered correctly, watching the exchange with an expression that bordered on satisfaction.
What the fuck is going on here?
“Thank you, Ms. Harris, for a thorough and insightful presentation.” As I moved to the front of the room, I caught Tiffany whispering something to her neighbor with a smirk. Mia’s assistant glared daggers at her from across the aisle.
Definitely something going on there. But Mia’s handling of the situation was professional and evidence based. It impressed me almost as much as her sales figures.