Page 100 of Ask Me Something

Brian’s smile was strained, and I realized in looking at Vanessa why he’d nudged me. Her eyes were narrowed. Shit, I’d won a challenge I hadn’t meant to participate in.

“That’s good advice, Michael,” Brian said. “Sasha will call today to get the ad placed in the Cowboys’ stadium. Monday we can meet wherever your preference, Vanessa, for the magazine spots for phase one.”

“Why don’t we meet in New York after all on Monday as I’m spending the weekend in the city. I look forward to it.” Vanessa barely flicked her eyes back in my direction.

Michael stood up ready to go. “I know this is in good hands between the three of you. Vanessa will keep me updated. I’ll be in touch about those Dallas tickets, Sasha.” And with that, the chairman left us.

Vanessa went over a few more logistics but essentially treated me like a third wheel for the remainder of any conversation.

* * *

Once we gotinto a taxi heading back to my office, I let out a sigh, knowing I was about to get a lecture. The thing was that Brian’s lectures weren’t all that bad if I was being honest. He never got angry and always tried to keep things positive and fair. But I wasn’t in the mood even for that.

“You didn’t actually expect that I’d sit there and listen to her tell him that I’d simply studied the Cowboys for no other reason than to regurgitate details for him?” I broke the silence.

He exhaled heavily. “Did I expect it? No. Did I hope that perhaps you could have smiled and said that you’re a football fan of all teams without showing off? Yeah, I did have a sliver of optimism.” He sounded weary in his response.

“It would be easier sometimes if you got angry instead of this I’m disappointed tone.”

He shook his head. “And sometimes it would be easier if you listened to me and to Josh when we tell you that Vanessa needs to be treated with kid gloves, not shown up. This is business, Sasha, not personal, which means that we suck it up and defer to the client.”

I fought my temper. It wasn’t that he was wrong. Once again, my pride had gotten involved and I’d opened my big mouth. “Michael is our client, too,” I defended.

He gave me a pointed look. “You proved that he absolutely loves you and would like to either hire you or set you up on a date—which only went further to piss off Vanessa.”

“He’s her boss, so that can’t be all bad. Plus it’s obvious she wants me off this campaign when she made the comment about hoping to move things to Charlotte. We both know the majority of her business with the board is up here. She only did that to see if it would be a way of getting me off the account.” The taxi pulled up in front of the building, and we walked through the lobby, putting the conversation on pause until back in my office.

“And you did nothing to try to convince her that you belonged on the account, except to say it wasn’t a problem for you to travel down there when necessary. Come Monday, you need to put the same research skills you used to charm Michael into making an effort with her, at the very least. I’m not going to sit in meetings and play mediator between the two of you.”

“I don’t remember asking you to.” Funny how this was the first time in months that we were sniping like we used to do quite often.

“I think it’s clear she would like me there for a reason.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” I took a seat my desk and didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.

He leaned forward, sitting in the visitor’s chair across from me. “You’re going to have to stow the pride or any jealousy. You can be pissed at me, but I’m speaking to you as your boss in this moment. This account is huge, and you put a lot of effort into ensuring we beat out five other agencies. You need to refocus that energy on keeping the client happy.”

I swallowed hard, knowing he was right and, although I’d never admit it, being turned on that he never backed down from telling me the truth even if I did get pissed off at him. “I will do better come Monday,” I vowed, knowing it wouldn’t be easy. “I’m working late tonight, but I should be able to show you something by tomorrow for Monday’s presentation.”

He nodded. “If you need anything, call me. Send me the draft once you have it ready. I’ll be available this weekend.”

I tried to hide the disappointment that he was leaving tonight. But hadn’t I said I’d be working late? The part that bothered me the most was that he hadn’t said anything about coming in Sunday and seeing me, either. His trip back to New York on Monday was obviously going to be all business, and he was making that clear. I should’ve been relieved but instead confusion peppered my thoughts. “Yeah, okay.”

With one last look he said, “I’ll let you get to it, then and see you Monday.”

* * *

I workeduntil almost midnight in the office. Before leaving, I emailed Brian the first draft of the presentation. Once again, work was my salvation to turn off everything else. When I got home, I saw that he had already reviewed the draft and only had a few minor changes. Obviously, he was up, too. It was tempting to call him but I decided I wouldn’t be the first to do so. Instead, I made the changes, and emailed them back at two o-clock in the morning. Once my head hit the pillow, I basically passed out.

The next morning I saw that he’d responded with a generic ‘thank you’ at two-thirty, and that had been it. I wondered if he’d also been thinking we could still be in Aruba enjoying our last couple of days. Most likely he remained pissed off for what had transpired during our meeting. Shit. That was the number one item on my agenda today. Research on one Ms. Leopard-print-fuck-me-heels Vanessa Warner. And the first order of business was to stop referring to her as that in my head if I was to make a sincere effort.

By four o’clock that afternoon, I felt better about a couple of different ways I could attempt to relate to Vanessa. She was born and raised in North Carolina, not far from where I’d grown up. She’d gone to Duke, which was my rival school having gone to UNC, and she was a class A bitch. Damn, two steps forward and one giant one back.

I needed advice on how to make nice, and for that, I called Catherine. Considering I had no other plans for a Saturday night, I was pleased when she suggested dinner and drinks.

I met her at a busy restaurant near her condo on the Upper West Side. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks and looked forward to a quality girls’ night.

“Sasha, you look lovely. You’re growing out your hair. I like it.” She kissed me on the cheek, and we took our seats at the table.

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