I don’t even want to inform him of all my achievements since starting at Carson Dell. It would be nothing more than braggadocio, and over the years we’ve gone head-to-head, we’ve both won our fair share of battles.
But he’s not going to win this one.
“Miss Thompson,” the receptionist says, and I glance over my shoulder. She nods toward Mr. Byrne’s door. “He’s ready for you now.”
Nodding my head curtly, I merely say, “Ronan.”
It’s a simultaneous acknowledgment of our run-in and a farewell as I sidestep him to enter Mr. Byrne’s office. I don’t look back, but I can feel his eyes on me, which I know are heavy with disdain.
Which is fine.
I feel the same about him.
Giving a slight tap on the door, I open it and peek my head in. Carrick Byrne’s office is massive. Large enough to hold an executive desk with guest chairs, a grouping of furniture to sit casually on including a couch, love seat, and two wingback chairs, and a conference room table that can seat eight. The walls are lined with built-in cabinets tastefully filled with books and what I guess are expensive pieces of art. He has a SmartBoard mounted on one wall, which I knew he would have because I had inquired. Most big companies have them in abundance, and I’ll be able to broadcast my entire pitch up on the wall so he can see it clearly and hopefully be impressed with the effort I went to on this campaign.
The man himself is sitting on the edge of his desk—more like leaning with his butt cheek on it, one leg bent and the other planted firmly on the floor—while reading over a document. I have never met Carrick Byrne before, but I’d recognize his face anywhere since he’s Seattle’s richest man as well as its most eligible bachelor.
Admittedly, for a moment, I’m a bit star-struck to be in his presence. His photos and media clips don’t do him justice. If he ever loses all his money, he could make serious bank as a professional model. His face is all chiseled angles that are perfectly aligned, yet don’t come off as soft or too perfect. His dark hair is long on top, short on the sides, and swept back into perfect waves from his face. I’d say he’s got more of a rugged look, especially set off by his thick eyebrows and a golden tan, both of which draw attention to eyes of a very unusual gold color. I’m sure they categorize it as brown on his driver’s license, but they are so light, they could pass for gold.
“Miss Thompson,” he says, lifting his head from the document he’d been reading. He stands from the desk, flashing a genial smile. “I’ve heard a lot of great things about you from Tim Carson.”
I flush because Tim Carson owns the ad agency, and he’s a legend in this business. He’s the type who sits in an ivory tower and is rarely seen. I’m surprised he even knows me because even though I’m up high in the ranks of his ad execs, I’m sure we’re still far below his notice.
“Please, call me Eliana,” I say warmly, crossing the distance to meet him for a handshake. “And thank you for the opportunity to allow us to pitch a campaign for One Bean. I had not realized Byrne Enterprises had moved into the coffee industry, but what better place than Seattle, right?”
He chuckles as he moves over to the conference table, motioning me that way. “Well, this is a business I’ve invested in as a silent partner. It’s owned and run by my colleague, Finley Porter, but I’m helping with the marketing portion. She’d be here today, but it’s her birthday so I’m going solo. And… you can call me Carrick.”
I nod, my smile showing how genuinely impressed I am he’d do that for a small business he’d invested in. I had researched One Bean thoroughly for the past two weeks while making this campaign, and it’s a small, independently owned coffee shop that’s been around for about three decades. It recently changed ownership from the founder to Finley Porter, a young woman who had been the manager there. I’m not quite sure how she got Carrick Byrne to come on as a silent partner, but I hope she knows how lucky she is to have a man of his power in her corner. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s grooming this little business to become a franchise, and that’s sort of where I went with my pitch.
“I just need about two minutes to get set up,” I say as I pull my laptop out of my bag.
“Take your time,” Carrick says. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Water would be great,” I say as I use my own HDMI cable to hook my laptop up to the SmartBoard, which has already been turned on.