THE VALENTINE PROPOSAL

007 Prove them wrong

LIORA

They all filed back into the conference room. Derek looked annoyed that I was taking up more of his time.

I pulled up my presentation. "Okay. So the previous campaign focused on product features. Specs, capabilities, technical details. It was fine. But fine doesn't make people care."

I clicked to the next slide. "I want to do something different. I want to tell a story about human connection versus digital isolation. About how technology should bring us together, not pull us apart."

I showed them mockups. User submitted photos and videos. Real stories from real people. A campaign that felt authentic instead of corporate.

"We'd launch on social media first," I continued. "Get people talking. Create buzz. Then we'd roll out traditional advertising that supports the grassroots movement we've already built."

I finished and looked around the table. Nobody said anything.

Finally Derek laughed. "This is amateur hour. You want to build a campaign on user generated content? You know we can't control that, right? People could post anything."

"That's the point," I said. "It's real. People trust real more than they trust polished."

"People trust brands that look professional," Derek shot back. "This makes us look desperate."

The others nodded. My heart sank.

"I think we should stick with the original plan," another team member said. "It's safer."

"Safe doesn't sell," I argued. But I could tell I'd already lost them.

The meeting ended badly. Everyone left except me. I sat there staring at my presentation. All that work and they'd hated it.

Maybe Derek was right. Maybe I was just the boss's fiancée playing executive.

I grabbed my laptop and went to Everett's office. His assistant told me he was free.

I walked in and closed the door behind me. "I want to quit."

Everett looked up from his computer. "What happened?"

"My team hates my ideas. They think I'm unqualified. And maybe they're right." I slumped into the chair across from his desk. "I pitched this whole campaign about emotional storytelling and human connection and they called it amateur hour."

"Show me."

I pulled up my presentation on my laptop. Everett watched in silence. When it finished he sat back in his chair.

"This is brilliant," he said.

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not." He clicked back through the slides. "This is exactly what we need. It's bold and different and it makes people feel something. That's rare."

"My team doesn't think so."

"Your team is scared," Everett said. "They've been doing the same safe campaigns for years. You're asking them to take a risk. Of course they're pushing back."

He turned the laptop toward me. "Show them data. Show them case studies of emotional marketing campaigns that worked. Show them why this will work. Don't just tell them it's a good idea. Prove it."

I looked at the presentation. Then at him. "You really think this could work?"

"I know it could." He stood up. "But you have to believe it first. If you don't believe in your own work, why should they?"

He was right. I'd let Derek's criticism get in my head. I'd let my own insecurity make me doubt myself.

"Okay," I said. "I'll prove it."

I went back to my office. I worked until everyone else had gone home. I found statistics on emotional marketing ROI. Case studies of campaigns that went viral. Psychological research on brand loyalty and human connection.

I rebuilt my entire pitch with data to back up every claim.

By two in the morning my eyes were burning. By three I could barely see straight. But I kept going.

I had to prove I belonged here. Not just to my team. To myself.

A news alert popped up on my laptop screen. I almost ignored it. Then I saw the name.

Ramsey Bellamy.

I clicked the article. My stomach dropped as I read.

Business mogul Ramsey Bellamy has called for a board investigation into Everett Montague's recent engagement and hiring practices. Sources say Bellamy questions whether Montague's fiancée, Liora Jovan, was hired based on qualifications or nepotism. The board will review the matter at their next meeting.

I read it again. Then again. Someone was trying to destroy my credibility before I'd even had a chance to prove myself.

I put my head down on my desk. I was so tired. Too tired to cry. Too tired to care.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew someone was touching my shoulder.

I jerked awake. Everett stood over me. The office was still dark outside.

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Three thirty." He looked at the papers scattered across my desk. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. Hours." I sat up. My neck was stiff from sleeping on the desk. "I was working on my pitch."

"Liora, you need to sleep."

"I need to prove them wrong." I rubbed my eyes. "All of them. Derek, Ramsey Bellamy, everyone who thinks I don't deserve to be here."

Everett's expression softened. He started gathering my papers into a neat stack. "You will. But not tonight."

"I'm fine."

"You're exhausted." He closed my laptop. "Come on."

"I can walk," I protested. But when I stood up the room spun.

Everett caught me. Before I could argue he picked me up. Just swept me right off my feet.

"Put me down," I said. But I didn't mean it. I was too tired to mean it.

He carried me out of the office and down to the parking garage. The security guard didn't even blink. Everett put me in the car and drove us home.

I must have dozed off again because the next thing I knew he was carrying me into the penthouse. Through the living room. Down the hall. Into my bedroom.

He set me down on the bed gently. I grabbed his hand before he could leave.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For believing in me."

"Always," he said quietly.

He started to pull away but I held on. "Everett?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll prove them wrong. All of them."

He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. His touch was so gentle it made my chest hurt.

"I know you will," he said.

He watched me for a moment. Just stood there looking at me like he was trying to memorize my face. Then he forced himself to turn away.

I heard him close the door. Heard his footsteps fade down the hall.

I curled up on my bed still wearing my dress and shoes. Too tired to change. Too tired to think.

But tomorrow I'd prove everyone wrong.

Tomorrow I'd show them exactly what I was made of.