Page 2 of Nothing to You (Nothing to… #7)
“EVERYONE TAKE A pack, take a pen.” Helena went down the line, handing the compiled dossier to each member of their team. “This is it. Everyone’s chance at a big break. We only get one opportunity to pitch this, people. One and done.”
Maybe, but they also weren’t the only ones pitching.
The Huddle Conference was the highlight of their corporate calendar. It was a chance to exchange ideas. Talk of advancements. Learn about the future.
This year was special. Very special. Huddle was owned by a larger firm. As was, let’s face it, just about every company these days.
Their parent corporation, Mosaic, wanted something new from Huddle.
A side mission or greater purpose for the brand.
Hoping for an innovative new perspective, they’d thrown open the doors to their employees.
“ You know it best, be inspired ,” kind of thing.
They dubbed it the See It Through campaign.
Not only were they accepting ideas from employees, but Huddle would also set those responsible for the chosen idea up in Mosaic’s California base to see the proposal through to fruition and beyond.
If it bombed, they’d be there to see it too. Which wouldn’t be so good. High stakes, high rewards.
At least sixty different groups were pitching through the weekend. Their spot happened to be on the Thursday, the first official day of the Huddle Conference. The pitches had begun the previous day and would keep on going until the end of the event on Tuesday.
Top candidates would be whittled down to a short list and undergo private interviews at the infamous Mosaic HQ in California until one group came out on top. They’d then be invited to nurture, develop, and build their idea into a reality, basing themselves in MHQ.
She had faith in their idea. A lot of faith. Did that mean they’d emerge the victors? No, it didn’t. Success hinged on the panel getting the concept and being ready to take a risk. A big risk.
Still, as her teammates went to their corners to review the presentation again, she was optimistic.
“Roux,” Helena said, approaching before she could go anywhere.
Having read their pitch fifty thousand times and being instrumental in its creation, she didn’t need to go over it again. What did Helena want?
Didn’t take long for the woman to get to the point.
“Don’t get argumentative,” Helena said, touching the diamond on her necklace. “If you feel the urge to butt in or disagree, contain it. Resist. Smile.”
Their two colleagues, supposed to be reading the pitch, would no doubt be eavesdropping. Some people loved the drama.
“Are you giving this advice to everyone?” Roux asked, aware of the answer.
Helena folded her arms. “You know you can be a hothead.”
Affront opened her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“You can’t be argumentative today. This is our one chance. Our only chance. Don’t mess this up for the whole team.”
Anyone from the Huddle hierarchy could form a group and pitch an idea. Nothing was too whacky. Nothing off the table. Theirs would be one of the riskiest ventures. That might disqualify them immediately. Did the Mosaic higher-ups have the balls to gamble on Huddle Hope?
Maybe not. If the panel, whoever they were, had questions or talked out of their asses, she’d put them straight.
Yes, it was a hazardous area, but it would be worth it for those helped in the long run.
Their concept was about more than money or commercial success, it was about social care and corporate responsibility.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this to work out for us,” she said, offended and pissed off in equal measure.
Helena thought if they screwed up their pitch, it would be on her?
“We’ll be dealing with serious people. This isn’t like talking back to Mr. Terence.”
She scowled. “I don’t talk back to…” It didn’t take more than a head tilt for her to concede. “Okay, but I judge people. Like not in a bad way, I take them in, judge their character, and get a feel for their limits.”
“By pushing the boundaries,” Helena said. “You push people.”
“If I’m so volatile, why did you want me on the team?”
Helena glanced at each of the guys.
Franco answered. “It was your idea.”
“And you can talk to people,” Helena said. “You’re articulate.”
“Yeah, you’re bold,” Myles said, eyes wide. “You’re like…”
“I’m like what?” she asked, her fist rising to her hip as she swayed a quarter turn to take in her cohorts. “Is this a coup?” Okay, so it wasn’t like she was in charge. “Or an intervention?”
Maybe both.
“And…” Franco paused, then exhaled. “No one thought he would be here.”
Helena raised a hand. “It’s an unsubstantiated rumor.”
“Wow, unsubstantiated rumor. Juicy. Share.”
“No, it’s… it’s not important.”
“Xavien Rourke is here,” Myles said, somehow sounding both thrilled and terrified simultaneously.
Mosaic bigwig. The guy in charge behind the curtain, conjuring his spells of success. He’d likely be too busy with some strategy to increase his fortune to even know the Huddle Conference was on.
She could’ve laughed. “Xavien Rourke is not here. He doesn’t give a shit about Huddle.”
“He’s a hardass. No room for error. No sense of humor.”
“Guess that’s how you become a billionaire,” she said. “You’re afraid I’m going to piss this guy off?”
“If he is here, there’s no indication he’ll be in the pitch meeting,” Helena said. “He’s a busy man who wouldn’t have time to—”
The door opened, a long-legged blonde came in.
“Team Hope. You’re up.”