Page 128 of Not That Into You

As I take a seat behind my desk, Alice, my brand manager, appears in the doorway. “Any luck?”

“No.”

She visibly deflates. “The website needs updating.”

“I know.”

“Archie has to see it’s archaic by internet standards.”

“I’m not sure he cares.”

“Well, shit. Now, what?”

“Now, we wait for the new CMO and make our pitch to them.”

“Well, that’s easy, right? Because you’re going to be named CMO?”

I blow out a breath and lean back in my chair. “I don’t know, Alice. I hope so, but it’s not a given.”

“Sure, but you’re the best person for the job.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but it’s not you or the rest of our team I have to convince.”

“Your interview’s on Friday, right?”

“Yup.”

“You’re going to kill it,” she says while nodding.

“That’s the plan.”

“Either way, the team’s taking you out for drinks on Friday night to celebrate.”

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.”

As Alice leaves my office, I glance at the awards on my wall, all of them won in the last few years, all of them earned by my team.

I know I can do the CMO job; I know I’d be good at it. Hell, I’d be great at it. No other candidate knows The Stanhope Group as well as I do, and no one would work as hard as I will.

I want this job.

My eyes land on my suit hanging in the corner of my office. I won’t have time to go home and change before heading to the Coronet dinner tonight, so I’d brought a more formal suit in to work. I considered wearing what I have on now—a gray suit with a light pink shirt and maroon tie—but because I’m supposed to appear sober and professional in front of the board, I thought a more conservative suit was best.

Out of habit, I tap my phone’s screen to see if I have any messages. I scroll through some notifications, but there’s nothing from Monica. I know she needs time with her family, but it still stings she couldn’t come to the dinner with me. No matter what she thinks or what my brother said, I know she’d be an asset.

Taking a deep breath, I push down the disappointment and niggling sense of doubt. Will she ever be willing to go to these types of dinners with me? Am I foolish for hoping she will?

I pinch the bridge of my nose. There’s no point in wasting time on what-ifs and maybes. It doesn’t change the fact that tonight is important, and I have to be on my game. I need to impress the board.

My father’s disapproving face comes unbidden to mind, and I mentally shake my head to clear the image. He and Archie are wrong. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get the job and am more than capable of succeeding.

And I will use every advantage at my disposal.

Resolved, I pick up my phone to make a call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Vanessa. It’s Cameron. You still available tonight?”

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