I nodded and stood up. “I am, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you.”
“Excellent. Well, ladies and gents, without further ado, I give the meeting over to Ms. Maxwell.”
There was a polite round of applause as I stepped around to the front of the table at the head of the room.
“Thank you, everyone,” I said. “Before I begin, I'd like to thank Mr. Sinclair for giving me the opportunity to join this prestigious team. I hope that with the ideas contained in this campaign proposal that Mr. Sinclair's decision to appoint me will be validated.”
I picked up the remote control and dimmed the lights in the room before I fired up the projector. I glanced at Asher. When our eyes met he gave me a warm, approving nod. With me heart in my throat, I began my presentation.
It felt as if it had taken barely any time, but half an hour had passed when I brought up the final image and delivered my last line. I stopped speaking and, for a few tense moments, a heavy, almost tangible silence filled the room.
And then it happened.
One of the senior members of the team—a woman in her late forties—started to applaud. Soon everyone else followed suit. I looked across at Asher, and he too was applauding with a smile of approval. A heavy rush of adrenalin mixed with pride and satisfaction was rippling through my veins. The competitor in me wanted to jump up and down like I’d just scored the winning touchdown in a playoff game.
Instead, I calmly closed my presentation on the projector, turned the lights up again, said a quiet thank you, and went back to my seat where I turned on my tablet so that I could take notes from the next speaker's presentation.
Inside, however, I felt as if fireworks were exploding. I couldn't believe I had pulled it off so flawlessly; everything, and I mean everything, had gone exactly according to plan. It felt surreal, and I knew that I had to c
elebrate after work—even if it was a Monday.
After the meeting was over, and everyone was gathering their things together and leaving the room, Asher approached me.
“Absolutely outstanding,” he said. “Seriously. I think you blew everyone in the room away with that. You've gone above and way beyond what anyone expected of you. I have no doubt that these amazing ideas you have are going to turn the Harry Winston campaign entirely on its head.”
I was ablaze with pride and excitement at his praise, which I sensed was absolutely genuine—even though it felt as if there was something beyond mere professional respect in the way Asher was looking at me when he said it.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Si—, I mean, Asher.”
“I'm just telling the truth. I genuinely believe the ideas you presented today are some of the freshest ideas we've seen at Sinclair for, well, for years, to be honest. As a matter of fact, you kind of remind me of myself in my younger years.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Asher. But there's no need for you to talk like you're an old man or something. You're only 32, you know.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes I feel twice that age, though. Remember, I've been doing this since I was 20. There are times I feel like I missed out on my twenties completely, started my thirties right out of college, and am now living in my forties!”
“Come on now, you’re much too good looking to be in your forties,” I countered playfully.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he replied with a grin. “Look, I know it's a Monday, but how would you feel about a drink or two after work to celebrate? And, by that, I don't mean we're going to hammer away two bottles of wine again! Just a drink or two, seriously.”
“You must have been reading my mind,” I exclaimed. “Is that a trick that samurai master taught you?”
He grinned. “Wouldn't you like to know?”
“As a matter of fact, I would,” I laughed again, feeling very at ease in his company. “Jokes aside though, how would you feel about a little extra company at this celebration? My brother Eddie told me if my presentation went well today he wanted to buy me a drink. I mean, he was kind of an idol of yours when you were a young lad, wasn't he?” I cocked an eyebrow and gave him a smirk.
Asher grinned. “The lead guitarist of The Razor's Edge? Seriously? How could I not want to have a beer with him?”
I almost said, “I've told him all about you already,” but I managed to bite my tongue.
“Great,” I replied. “How does 8:00 at McGinty's Pub downtown sound?”
“That sounds perfect. I'll see you there. Until then, more work to get through. There are still four working hours left in the day.”
“Right. I'll see you later this evening.”
***
“Remember, Eddie, don't tell him I've talked to you about him before all right?”