Shipped(89)

Swallowing hard, I cross the room on quivering legs to the conference table. One of my rubber soles catches on the tile and a deafening squeal fills the silent room. I wince.

Calm. I need to be calm.

Six pairs of eyes stare at me as I open my laptop and cast my PowerPoint to the large screen on the opposite wall. It’s not pretty or my best work—there are only photos on the first couple of slides, and the graphs I included later on are sadly basic—but at least I had some time to clean it up after I left Marlen’s office. It’ll have to do.

Meeting each executive’s gaze in turn, I begin. The words flow, and after a minute, I begin to relax. I have no idea what time it is when I finish, but I’m greeted with nods of approval.

“Excellent,” murmurs Renata.

Marlen raps his knuckles against the table. “Brilliant.”

The chief financial officer, a white-haired man named Mark, leans forward. “I’m not convinced.”

He pelts me with questions, which I answer haltingly at first, but with each follow-up, my confidence grows. Renata pitches a new angle I hadn’t considered. The executives discuss it. And I’m part of the discussion. Me. They look to me for additional information, for ideas. Marlen specifically asks for my input more than once.

My stomach growls, thankfully quiet enough so I don’t think anyone can hear it. I check the time on my laptop and my eyes bug. I’ve been in the meeting for nearly two hours.

Marlen flops back in his leather office chair. “Now, there’s the question of Henley’s promotion.”

I jerk my chin at him so fast my neck cricks. My what now?

“It’s clear she’s being underutilized as a marketing manager. She has vision, drive, and leadership. You know she assembled her own team of staff to help her with this proposal? She actually called them into my office earlier to give them credit.” Marlen chuckles to himself. “She has a keen eye for strategy and a dynamite résumé, including significant graduate-level coursework.”

Marlen pulled my résumé?

“Digital director?” offers Mark.

I’m poised to interject, but Renata beats me to the punch. “Digital director doesn’t seem like the right fit. Too narrow.”

“I agree,” says Marlen. “James pegged Graeme Crawford-Collins for that position, and I like him for it.”

Renata taps a manicured fingernail on the table. “As of two hours ago, there’s an opening on the executive board. We could use fresh blood.”

My heartbeat accelerates like a runaway train.

“Indeed,” says Marlen, contemplating me. “Miss Evans, how would you like to serve as the chief strategy officer for Seaquest Adventures? It would be on an interim basis to start. But if you prove yourself, after a set amount of time—eighteen months, let’s say—it could become permanent.”

I’m dizzy. It’s so far beyond my wildest imaginings that I can barely process.

Me. On the executive board.

I lick my dry lips. “I—I would need to consider the particulars.”

Marlen’s rich laughter shakes the ceiling tiles. “See? She’s perfect for a chief strategist role.”

Renata rests her forearm on the table. “What are your concerns, Henley?”

“Well, responsibilities of the position. Workload. Staff support. Long-term goals. Compensation package.”

“All valid questions,” she assures me. The skin around her brown eyes crinkles when she speaks, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve found an ally today.

“Marketing can stand on its own with a digital and print director calling the shots. I’m thinking you’d have a small team working under you to focus on implementing our ecotourism vision, plus developing the company’s other strategic initiatives,” says Marlen. “It’s a big undertaking, and you’ll need your own department.”

I nod. “I’d want to handpick my team. Barbara Jenkins as my executive assistant, but with room for her to grow into a more substantial role. Christina Kim for her marketing and communications skills. I know Tory Hageman can’t be spared from accounting, but someone else with a detail-oriented mindset, preferably with a background in conservation or nonprofit management.”

Grinning, Marlen smacks the arm of his chair. “Done. I’ll have Rose schedule a meeting for Monday so you and I can hash out the details. Shall we reconvene next week?” He puts the question to the board.

A murmur of ascent follows, and the meeting is adjourned. I stand on shaking legs. Before I can dash out of the room, Renata touches me lightly on the shoulder. “Congratulations,” she murmurs, offering her hand. Her grip is firm but not overpowering. A diamond-studded wedding band sparkles on her ring finger.

“Thank you,” I say, a bit breathless.

She leans in and drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’d better say yes to this promotion, you know. It’s high time we had another woman on the board, especially one as intelligent and determined as yourself.”

I offer an apologetic smile. “I still need more information before I can make a decision.”

“I don’t blame you. It can be difficult, working your way to the top in a man’s world. You’ll have plenty of naysayers, and imposter syndrome can be a constant struggle. But Seaquest is a good place to be. Marlen is an outstanding boss. He values hard work and honesty, and he appreciates work-life balance. Not that it’s a cakewalk, you understand. There will be long hours at times, and high stakes. But it’s better than at a lot of other companies, and here, you’ll have a chance to make a difference.”