Page 21 of Devanté
“Hi, Mr. Morgan,” she said, turning on her iPad.
“Call me Devanté,” I insisted. The longer I sat around these people the lighter my energy felt.
“Okay, Devanté. I thought you’d be a great fit because you embody Shaw’s brand without even trying. You’re a young professional who wants to look and feel classy. Your entire IG feed is practically one big advertisement for what our brand wants to convey. You are fashionable.” She flicked her finger on the screen and a picture from my feed popped up on the projection screen in the front of the room.
“You are socially conscious without being afraid,” she flicked quote after quote that I’d posted about racial and social injustices experienced by black and brown people daily. “You are for the culture,” she smiled at me before flicking a picture of me rocking an old Jodeci concert t-shirt from the year I was born, 1992. She tossed up another picture of me rocking cross colors, then another of me wearing a vintage FUBU sweatshirt.
“Devanté, even your name smacks of listen up world, I have something to say. You’d bring the kind of energy to Shaw that we hope to bring to the world.” By the time she sat down, I’d broken into a smile.
“Very nice pitch, Miss Abimbola. And that goes for all of you. I know everyone worked hard to bring this all together today.” I smiled around the room and they all met me with equally bright and beautiful grins.
“We’re hoping to sign you on as an official brand ambassador and spokesperson. Shaw wants Devanté Morgan to endorse us. It’s not the other way around. You will bring value to us,” Mr. Shaw said sincerely.
We talked around the table for an hour tossing thoughts and ideas around for my campaign as their official spokesperson. I hadn’t signed on yet but I wanted to hear what direction they planned to take things in.
The conversations rolled around the table easily. The room was filled with soft laughter and discussion while they showed me several mood boards they planned to send to their marketing and advertising agency.
“You know what guys? I’ve seen more than enough to make a sound decision. I’m all in.” I smiled at Mr. Shaw. A small burst of cheers sounded from the design team then we got to work going over paperwork.
When I reviewed the portion about collaborating with the marketing and design agency of Shaw’s choice, my blood ran cold. I was moments away from sending the papers to my lawyer to review but what I was staring at on the page made me rethink everything that happened since I walked in the door.
“Mr. Shaw, I have a question,” I said, stretching my finger into the air.
“What is it, Devanté?”
“I was under the impression that your marketing agency was Zeon Marketing in San Francisco. There’s a different agency listed here. Why is that?” I stroked my full beard while I waited for his answer.
“You are correct. Zeon Marketing is our agency of choice for our offices in San Francisco. Since we’ve opened up a new office in LA, Watson Marketing and Advertising is our firm of choice in this location. Will that be a problem?” He asked, looking at me. I steepled my fingers and pushed out a breath as I weighed my options.
“We’ve been in close contact with their director of branding and marketing, Miss Blake Remington. She’s phenomenal and I assure you that she’ll be able to get your campaign where you want it.
My team of designers work with her almost daily on different campaigns for our brand. If you’d like to meet with her before you officially sign on so you can get to know her as well, I’d be willing and able to set it up.”
A meeting with Blake Remington?
My mind salivated at the thought but my heart ached with heavy memories of our last encounter, eight years ago.
“You know what? I think that would be a great idea.” My mind spoke before my heart could pull him back from the jagged ledge.
“Okay, I’ll set it up and let your assistant, Molly know.” I shook Mr. Shaw’s hand and left the meeting feeling secure in my decision to sign on as the spokesperson for Shaw Luxury Cases. I was excited but nothing could measure up against my excitement for seeing Blake again.
Not a day went by when I didn’t think about her. Where the sound of her broken voice didn’t play on a warped loop in my head. My memories of her had become an antique gramophone blaring old songs I knew all the words to.
I wished I could tell her I had nothing to do with that intervention Gabi staged when we were in college. I wanted to tell her that the only thing I thought I had a hand in was getting her into Gabi’s club. I had no idea things would go left the way they did and once I found out about it, I chewed Gabi and her friends up and spit them out.
I had so much to say to Blake but she’d never give me the time of day. Now that our paths were finally getting ready to cross again, I wanted to make sure she heard me out once and for all.
I wasn’t the same scared kid I was in college. I’d grown into a man and I’d made a name for myself across the entire world. I had a lot of accomplishments to speak of. As proud as I was of myself, I spent a lot of time wishing I had Blake to share it all with. Even if we were only friends, that would have been better than not having her in my life at all.
She was a once in a lifetime woman and after all the years we’d been apart, I still never found anyone to measure up to her. She was custom made for me. It had been that way since third grade and eight years wasn’t going to stop me.
Shit, we could have been apart for fifteen years and I’d still jump at the opportunity to be in a room with her. To have her listen to me and hear what I had to say.
I never stopped following along with her career once she left college in her junior year. I kept up with her accomplishments and I cheered for her successes. I always wondered if she did the same when she heard my name come up. Probably not. She probably thought I was a dick.
She knew me better than that. I was going to help her remember. Our meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
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