No one seemed to know what to do, unsure of whether to stay and wait for Rita to return or if the meeting was over and we should all go back to work. There was whispering and nervous chatter as everyone consulted on what could possibly be the matter.
They all seemed to get their answer a few moments later when a tall man in a crisp business suit appeared at the edge of the windowed wall. He stalked by, laser-focused on the path in front of him. A young man ran up to meet him and held out an overpriced bottle of water but the man waved him off without even looking at him.
“Oh, shit,” Bryce exhaled.
“What?” I struggled to tear my eyes away from the impressive figure. “Who is he?”
Bryce started to speak but his reply was drowned out as the room burst into action as soon as the hallway in front of the conference room was vacant again. Half a dozen people jumped up from their seats and bolted for the door.
“Meeting adjourned?” I asked, an eyebrow raised.
“That’s Cooper Brighton.” He didn’t say anything else, as if no further introduction was needed.
“Who?”
Bryce looked at me with a mix of confusion and irritation. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.”
I got out of my seat and followed behind as Bryce practically flew down the hallway. I tried my best to keep up with his pace, not an easy feat in my sky-high heels.
“Mr. Brighton is the agency’s biggest clients. He’s the CEO of Plush Inc.”
“Plush?”
He stopped in
his tracks. “Seriously? Where do you shop? Plush is a very high-end cosmetic and fragrance company.”
“Well, up until about a week ago my budget was more in the Walgreen’s arena, so excuse me for not keeping up with the Kardashians.” I rolled my eyes.
“All right, all right. Well you’re in a new world now and it’s your job to know our clientele and their lifestyle. If you want to market the brand, you have to understand the brand.”
I wasn’t sure why it mattered that I knew what the marketing was for. All I planned to do was change passwords, build websites, fix computer gremlins, keep the viruses out, and so on, but I nodded anyways, resisting the urge to add a mock salute.
“Anyway, Plush is a huge company and Mr. Brighton is a very—how should I put this—ambitious man. If he is here without an existing appointment, that means someone fucked up and we’re all going to pay for whatever the mistake was.”
“Fantastic. I can’t wait to be introduced to this Mr. Brighton.”
Bryce laughed. “Well, that’s not going to happen for a long time—if ever. He is very particular on who handles his account.”
I exhaled and sat down on the chair opposite Bryce’s chair. He didn’t sit down. He stood and paced.
“So now what? We wait out the storm?”
“Rita will call me in to her office and let me have it once he’s gone. I’m technically not in charge of the Plush account but she will expect me to deal with this. Whatever it is. She thinks I’m the go-to guy for everything.”
I looked down at my freshly manicured nails and started to wonder how I got into this whole mess. A week ago, my biggest career crisis would have been running out of milk in the middle of the day or a fussy customer questioning the exact origins of the ingredients of our organic pastries. Watching Bryce and the rest of the office have a full-on meltdown over one stuffy dude in a power suit made me want to run back to my coffee shop and tie on my apron for good. But I remembered the pile of bills mounting on my kitchen table and decided that ulcer medication was probably a lot cheaper than bankruptcy.
A knock on the door snapped me out of my mental wanderings.
“Come in,” Bryce said.
Another new person appeared. “Rita is asking for you.”
“All right. Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”
“Um. No, not you, Mr. Sherman. Actually, you, Miss Rand.”
“Me?” My eyes flew to Bryce, wide with alarm.