The Importance of Being Married (11 page)

“Fine,” I said, with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll just type them up then.”

“Thanks, Jess.” Marcia smiled sweetly before marching off. “That would be really great. And I do love the hair. Really suits you.”

By 9:50
AM
Marcia was back at her desk and I’d managed to come up with a whole six slides, one of which, to my immortal shame, said
BRIGHT, NOT CHEAP, NOT TACKY
. I cringed slightly, imagining Marcia’s face when the slides came up in front of a team of serious bankers, but it wasn’t my problem. Checking the spelling one last time and trying not to look at the presentation too closely, I saved it and e-mailed it to Marcia, then turned back to get on with some of my own work.

But two minutes later Marcia was at my side of the desk, her face white.

“Is this it?” she asked, staring in horror at the single sheet of A4 that contained all six slides.

I nodded.

“But there’s nothing to it!” she said, her voice barely audible. “I’ve got to present in ten minutes. In front of Jarvis’s chief executive. This isn’t a presentation. It’s…it’s a joke! Jessica, I thought I could trust you to put this together. I was counting on you.”

Carefully, I pulled out the notes she’d given me. “Marcia, these are the notes you had me work from. I followed them precisely.”

Marcia picked up the notes and stared at them. Then she moved her hand out to my desk to steady herself.

“Oh fuck. Oh bollocks, wrong notes. These were…” Her eyes were focusing on the bottom of the second page, the bit where she’d started to write out her shopping list. “These were just…I mean, they were the preliminary…”

“So, ready for the meeting? Anthony says you’re really confident about this pitch, Marcia. Anything you want to share with me?”

Marcia and I both looked up at once to see Max right behind us. Marcia’s face was now slightly greenish. Mine immediately went red. It always did when Max wandered over, I noticed. I was thinking about getting treatment for it.

“No, no, everything’s fine,” she said, looking anything but. Then she looked at me, a funny look in her eye. “Actually, Max, I was thinking that maybe Jessica should be in on this one. You know, come to the meeting.”

I looked at her in surprise. She never invited me to any of her pitch meetings.

“Good idea. Where is she, by the way? Is she in today?”

I raised an eyebrow at Max and forced a grin. “Very funny.”

Max frowned and stared at me. “Jess?” He came closer and peered at me. “Bloody hell. It
is
you! What happened? What did you do to your hair?”

“She had her hair cut,” Marcia said. “And she’s got some great new clothes, too. Amazing that she had the time, considering how ill she was.”

“I thought you were a new intern or something,” Max said, frowning, ignoring Marcia’s jibe.

I forced a smile. “No, just me.”

He looked at me suspiciously for a few seconds, as if to reassure himself that it really was me.

“Anyway, what do you think, Max?” Marcia persisted.

“About Jess’s hair? I like it. I suppose. I mean, it’ll take a bit of getting used to…”

“About her coming to the meeting.” Marcia sighed impatiently.

Max flinched slightly. “Right. Of course. Well, I think it’s a great idea. Jess, you up for it?”

I nodded. “Of course. I mean, it would be really useful…”

“Good,” Marcia interjected, “because Jess has been working with me a lot on this pitch and it could be a really great development opportunity for her to give the initial presentation.”

It took me a few seconds to register what she’d said.

“No…I mean…I couldn’t…” I stammered.

“Of course you can. I mean, you virtually wrote it,” Marcia said, avoiding my eye.

“I didn’t! I didn’t at all…” I stared at her in horror.

“Great idea!” Max said, easily, ignoring my protests. “I’ll okay it with Anthony, but as far as I’m concerned Jessica’s more than welcome on the team. I’ll see you both in a few minutes, then.”

Before I could say anything else, he had disappeared. I immediately rounded on Marcia.

“I can’t give that presentation!” I protested. “There
is
no presentation. Plus you know I can’t talk in public. Marcia, you can’t do this to me.”

Marcia grabbed my shoulders. “Come on, Jess. Please. You’re always asking for more involvement—and now you’re getting it.”

“But I can’t present this. It isn’t even a presentation. It’s a load of drivel!”

“I know,” Marcia said, pulling herself upright. “But that’s not my fault. You did put it together, Jess. You have to take some responsibility.”

“Me? I was doing you a favor. I had nothing to do with—”

“Look, this is your first presentation,” Marcia interrupted flatly. “If it’s crap, everyone will just chalk it up to inexperience. I’ll defend you. It’ll be fine. But if I screw it up…” She sighed, dramatically. “Max is already gunning for me. He’ll use any excuse to get me fired.”

“You won’t get fired,” I said desperately. “But I will be if I present this. Marcia, I can’t. I really can’t. You
have
to do it.”

“No,” Marcia said, shaking her head. “No, I don’t. So if I were you, I’d start practicing. Okay?” She smiled awkwardly, then turned back to her desk. As for me, for the second time in as many days, I wished I was dead.

Chapter 7

I WALKED INTO
the meeting room on unsteady legs—and it wasn’t the shoes’ fault. Immediately Max came over.

“So, your first pitch, huh?” He smiled, which would usually make me feel better, but this wasn’t usually. “About time, too.”

“Right,” I said, trying to stay calm. “So which one’s Chester Rydall?”

Max pointed to a man with silvery hair and tanned skin talking to Anthony—he looked like he’d just stepped off a yacht. Around him, everyone was fluttering—offering him coffee, offering him orange juice, asking him if he was hungry. Only Anthony and Max seemed unfazed by this giant of the financial world.

“Max! Come and meet Chester Rydall.” Anthony appeared beside him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Of course. And Jess should meet him, too,” Max said immediately. “She’s presenting today, after all.”

“Absolutely!” Anthony smiled at me benevolently, and I looked back uncertainly. It was the second time he’d smiled at me today, and it was slightly unsettling. “Love the hair, by the way,” he whispered. “Suits you.” I stared at him in surprise, but before I could say anything he’d put his arm around Chester. “Chester, meet Max, my deputy. And Jessica. Jessica Wild.”

“Anthony, can I have a quick word?” Marcia appeared at his side, suddenly, her face one big simpering smile.

“Sure. No problem.” Anthony nodded and disappeared, leaving me and Max alone with Chester.

“Jessica Wild,” Chester said, shaking my hand. “Great name. So, you been with the firm long?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, well, awhile,” I managed to say. “You know, a couple of years.”

“Jess is one of our best account executives,” Max said, seriously. I looked at him in surprise. He’d never said that to me before.

“She is? Well, great,” Chester said, smiling. “In that case I look forward to hearing your presentation, Jess.”

“The presentation. Right.” As I spoke, my heart sank. It was bad enough that my presentation was going to be appalling; now I had to contend with high expectations, too. It was the worst of all worlds. I could already picture Max’s stern stare as I messed up the pitch, could already feel the weight of his disappointment.

But before I could say anything, think of an excuse to run from the room, or even have another fainting fit, Anthony appeared again. “Right guys, it’s ten fifteen. What do you say we get this show on the road? Ready to present, Jess?”

I felt my heart thudding in my chest; I nodded weakly.

He guided Chester to the table, then sat down next to him. Marcia sat next to Anthony, and Max sat opposite with two men Chester had brought with him. I took a chair next to Marcia and tried to calm my heart rate even though I knew the only thing that would really slow it would be my leaving the room and never coming back.

“I’ve loaded your presentation onto the projector,” Marcia said to me, smiling. I gulped.

“It’s not really my presentation,” I said, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. “I mean, I wasn’t really involved in it that much.”

“Don’t be silly Jess, you wrote it,” Marcia said sweetly, and I felt a wave of nausea wash through me. I was having one of those out-of-body experiences, looking down at the situation from the ceiling and shrugging at the Jessica sitting at the table. All the work I’d put in since getting this job was about to be forgotten. Any dignity I’d managed to carve out for myself was about to be decimated.

Anthony looked thoughtful for a moment, then flashed Chester a smile. A few seconds later he stood up and walked toward the window. “Milton Advertising,” he said, after a pause, “is not an ordinary firm. Sure, we do some ordinary things, but we like to think that we do them in an extraordinary way. When we work for a client, they become part of our family, part of our raison d’être, if you will. Their problems are our problems, their successes our triumphs. We don’t just assign client directors; we embed them. We work
with
our clients, not
for
them. We go the extra mile; we’re available whenever we’re needed, not simply when our office happens to be open. And when you task us to develop a new brand, we don’t just think about logos and typefaces. We think about core values. We think about what a company stands for, what its brand needs to communicate—with customers, with rivals, with shareholders, with the media, the public…We help you to discover who you are, what you’re about, and then we make sure that everything you do reflects your values, from the way your receptionist answers the phone to the way your online sales are handled. We’re big-picture people who are passionate about the detail. We are tireless, committed, insightful. Sometimes we may tell you things that you don’t want to hear, but we’d rather tell you the truth than have you discover it elsewhere. In a nutshell, we care. Deeply. And you’ll see that care in everything we do—from today’s presentation right through to our brand development, should you hire us. Which”—at this point, Anthony turned to Chester—“I sincerely hope you will.”

The room felt electric, all eyes on Anthony. I knew he hadn’t really said anything—nothing of substance, anyway—but it had worked nonetheless. Even I felt myself thinking I’d hire him if I were in Chester’s shoes.

He sat down silently. No one said a word. A few seconds later, Chester cleared his throat expectantly, but still no one said anything. Was this a tactic? I wondered. Was this what you did in a pitch to unsettle your clients, to keep them guessing? And then I felt a kick to my ankle. Quickly I swung around to see Marcia glaring at me. “The presentation,” she hissed. “You’re up.”

My eyes widened. Now? I had to give the worst presentation ever made right now? After that introduction? Smiling awkwardly, I stood up, and Marcia thrust the PowerPoint remote control into my hand.

“Good day,” I said, clearing my throat, then coughing desperately. Good day? What was I, an eighteenth-century salesman?

“Good morning, I mean,” I said quickly. “I’m Jessica Wild, and today I’m going to be talking to you in general terms about our interpretation of Jarvis Private Banking’s new venture.”

I smiled brightly, trying to disguise the abject fear making my legs tremble beneath me.

“You’re far too modest, Jessica,” Anthony said, encouragingly.

“I’m sure that you’ve got more than generalities to share with Chester and his colleagues.”

I blanched. “Right. Yes, of course,” I said. Already I was writing my resignation letter in my head, wondering what other career options might be open to me.

Hesitantly, I pressed a button on the remote control, and my presentation flashed into life. I wanted to spend as long as possible on the first slide—the one with the title on it—because it was undoubtedly the best; once it left the screen, things would go downhill all the way.

“Jarvis Private Banking,” I said as authoritatively as I could manage. I looked over at Max; he was looking at the Jarvis Private Banking client file, his eyes serious, those little lines he got between his eyes furrowed and focused. I looked away again quickly. My whole body was shaking, and I was sweating lightly all over. Desperately, I thought about what Anthony had said, trying to think of something I could say to make this presentation slightly less bad than embarrassingly awful. Anything to pad it out just slightly.