But that just isn’t how it’s happening, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m disappointed. Do I like him? God, I think I do. I think the disappointment that I’m feeling is because I’m worried that maybe he’s not that attracted to me after all.By the time I get back to the office and give Chase his lunch, I’m feeling very deflated. I sit at my desk, picking at my sandwich while I get back to working on the proposals. I’m not certain, but I think this is just a test. I don’t think he is considering any of these companies for a takeover bid. Either way, I’m determined to show him that I can handle this.
When I block out every other thought and force myself to focus only on what I’m working on, the time seems to fly. I’ve picked out my top choice, so now I’m just gathering the statistics to back up my decision.
“Alana?”
I look up and see Chase staring at me.
“I just asked you if you’re planning on going home tonight or not,” he repeats in a mocking tone. “It’s after six,” he adds.
I glance down at the stack of work in front of me and frown. I hate the idea of not getting this finished almost as much as I hate the idea of having a boss who won’t let me work overtime.
“What are you working on?” he asks, wandering over.
“You asked me to look over those proposals,” I say. “And I’ve done that.”
I hold up the file containing the company I consider the best gamble. He outstretches his hand and takes it from me, then he looks back at me.
“And this is what you’ve chosen as my next investment?” he asks with interest.
“Yes,” I say, anxious to hear his response.
I know it’s not the most obvious choice, but I put a lot of consideration into choosing it. He nods and then glances at his watch.
“Would you mind running through this with me now? I know I said that I didn't want you working into your own time, so I’ll pay you, of course.”
I nod. “Sure.”
We walk into his office. I sit down, my body tensing when he sits next to me, rather than behind his desk. I’m nervous that I’m about to make a fool of myself. He might hate my ideas. I thrust my handwritten notes in his face. He takes them from me and reads through them, his expression thoughtful.
“I thought Benson had the least potential for growth,” he frowns, examining the file. “It makes it a really hard sell when the buyer can’t see their investment paying off within a specific time frame,” he explains, glancing at me.
“I know. I was thinking the same, until I saw this,” I hand him another report. “These are the figures for the last twelve months for what is pretty much an identical product on the market, made by a competitor. The only difference is their product doesn’t do half the things that the other one can.”
“So what you’re saying is that even though they don't look like much of a threat right now, with the right marketing and the right match…”
His voice trails off as he looks at me. I nod, unable to contain my excitement.
“This is good,” he says. He nods slowly and then glances at me, the look in his eyes driving me crazy. I love impressing him almost as much as I love the thought of pleasing him. “But, it’s still a big risk.”
“With a big reward,” I argue. “Over a safer option that will net a buyer a much smaller return.”
“You’ve put a lot of work into this,” he murmurs. “I'm impressed you’ve done all of this in just a few hours. Still, I’m not sold on finding a buyer to agree to take this on.”
“Really? I thought you could talk anyone into anything,” I say, my heart racing.
He smiles and raises his eyebrows at me, as if my words have hit a spot. He stands up and runs his hand through his hair, tossing the file onto his desk, then he turns around and leans against it, so he’s facing me.
“Can you arrange a meeting with Benson for next week?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, ecstatic that he’s actually considering my idea.
“Thanks. And can you type all of your notes up for me? I’ll add to them and then get you to prepare a formal report that I can present to the board. I don’t need it right away, by early next week is fine,” he adds.
I nod as he stares at me. I hold his gaze and then stand up.
“Was there anything else?” I ask, so close to him that I could reach out and touch him.
“Nothing I can think of off the top of my head,” he murmurs.