Lost and Found (Growing Pains #1)(26)

Judging by the graphics, which looked out of date but not hip and vintage, Krista thought Sean was blowing smoke about a new spin. She hoped the clients didn’t share that view.

Glasses faced the clients with a vague look in her eyes, and began talking in a medium-paced monotone. Her voice barely rose and fell with beginnings and endings of sentences. She might’ve been making a point, or beginning a new idea—no one knew, because she was so droning and boring that it was painful to actually listen to her words.

Sean stepped in immediately, adding dramatic pauses and a dynamic to the delivery based on when he emphasized her information. He was the glitter to her club scene. The cross to her savior. He was the only reason the clients weren’t already leaving.

The hilarious part was that Glasses was missing all of this. She stood with the same pose, droning on, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. She was perfectly still except for her mouth. Worse, she wasn’t even looking vaguely at the clients anymore, she was honest-to-God staring out the window, probably wishing she were somewhere else. It was like she was a film; whenever Sean wanted to interrupt, he pushed pause. Then, when he hit play again, she seamlessly continued as though no time had gone by. It was spectacular only because it was so weird. Forget her dress code choices; she was so far removed from professional Krista wasn’t sure how she still had a job.

After an eternity, Glasses stopped talking. She gave Sean a brief glance, then turned to grab her stuff. That was it. All done.

Krista stifled a giggle. So. Weird. How did Sean deal with these people on a regular basis?

Next up was Red Suit. Sean carried her boards and got a grin and thank you for doing so. She stood in front of the clients, got introduced by Sean just as Glasses had, and started up the engines. Red Suit—Krista liked that name better than Betty—at least looked at the clients when she spoke. She wasn’t much better in her delivery, but she smiled a couple times and shifted every once in a while. Sean still had to help. He still had to dance around her words and brief pauses, basically giving the presentation for her.

If Krista were the client, she would definitely think this was rinky-dink. She’d say no just because they didn’t have it together. But these guys were apparently still listening, not bothering to look at Red Suit, just waiting for Sean to tell them what they needed to know.

Too soon it was over. Which meant…her turn.

As Sean carried the boards back, he glanced at her in anticipation, expecting her to head up front. Since she only had her laptop, and didn’t need help carrying that, she excused herself around Pink Shoes and headed to the podium where she quickly plugged in her computer and made sure everything was displayed properly on the large screen behind her.

Show time!

Krista exhaled all the wind out of her body with a half-controlled release of tension. With the small plastic remote in a white-knuckled grip, she turned to the clients with a smile.

Sean was off to the side, lazily leaning back against a cabinet with his legs crossed and arms in a pose of relaxation. He went from participant to audience. As his gaze slid over her body, she felt like she should have a pole instead of a laptop. It was disgusting and discontenting at the same time.

Trying not to be daunted, she lifted her chin as she met his eyes, silently asking if he was going to introduce her. He looked back with a closed-off expression that spoke volumes. She was on her own.

So be it.

Turning to the panel, ignoring the rising panic of stage fright, she brought up her first slide with a click of the remote. “Hello, my name is Krista Marshall, and I’ll be walking you through some numbers and research that support our ideas for this campaign.”

Besides the guy with his greasy, black comb-over, there were two other guys. One was average looking with brown, fluffy hair and stubble on his chin, and the other was older with salt-and-pepper hair and a suit jacket that didn’t quite fit.

Fat man in a little coat…

Krista smiled animatedly to hide the anger and borderline humiliation at the looks from Sean and the other creepy sales guy, who was taking this opportunity to molest her with his eyes.

Luckily, instead of acting like the two guys who were supposed to be on the same team as Krista, the clients all wore respectful expressions, each looking her in the eyes. Slightly relieved, she breathed out a smile-encrusted sigh and let her mannerisms relax as she started her lecture on numbers, figures, and all things boring in the marketing world.

Throughout the slides she paid each man equal attention, choosing her own pace to match their interest level. She rarely had to speed up, because their attention never wavered. They were focused and interested, nodding politely with each point she made and returning her smile when she gave one. Well, two of them did. The third was straight-faced, but still maintaining focus. He looked back and forth between her and the slides, occasionally writing something down.

At the end of her lecture she paused and asked for questions. The man who hadn’t smiled, Mr. Comb-over, asked, “I noticed all your figures rotate around a demographic slightly older. Do you have anything that hits a little closer to what we’re going for?”

Good question.

She had no idea.

She looked at Sean, expecting him to jump in. On average, her company didn’t go after a younger crowd. From what she’d seen while looking through historical information in their giant database, the company didn’t have as much experience marketing to that demographic. Based on the fact that this younger crowd was Sean’s idea, and because he didn’t tell her anything about it, she had absolutely no idea how he hoped to succeed.