Always Finding Mr Wrong

Chapter 6 - Executive

* * * One Year Later * * *

* * * Emma’s POV * * *

A year after starting at Herman Brown and I’ve just finished a huge career changing presentation. Something I never thought I’d have achieved two years ago after he who must not be named almost ruined my life. I thought I’d never be happy again, but today I feel life is finally going in the right direction.

“How do you think it went?” I’m buzzing with adrenalin after one of my most important presentations ever.

“I can’t believe you have to ask,” replies Danielle, perching on my desk. “The panel couldn’t have been more convinced if we’d bent down and given each of them a deep throat blow job.”

I suppress a giggle and skim through the notes I scribbled during the meeting. I’ve worked for weeks on this pitch but if we win the client – a massive sports brand firm – it’ll be worth it. “You weren’t thrown by the question about contacts in the China?” I fret.

“What’s with the lack of self-belief, Emma?” says Danielle, stuffing her red hair into a clip. “You’re not Herman-Brown’s star performer for nothing.”

“Oh, give it a rest,” I cringe, though I can’t help feeling a little pleased.

“Don’t deny it,” she grins. “I keep saying you’ll be running this place in a couple of years – and today confirmed it. The presentation was perfect, our answers were textbook and, crucially, the Managing Director of URun had the hots for you.”

“Don’t be absurd,” I say, hoping she might be right.

“Believe me,” she winks. “This one’s in the bag.” Danielle and I hit it off the minute we met. She’s a wild flame, down to earth and a natural at this job – so much so, you’d never guess it wasn’t her first career choice.

Danielle had wanted to be an a broadway actress until she realised that, in her own words, she had the stage presence of a brick. She persevered for several years and achieved the odd bit-part, but nothing more. The crunch came on the day she was turned down for an audition to play a dead body in a First Aid training video. “If that isn’t a signal to get a real job, I don’t know what is,” she says.

Yet when you meet Dani it’s impossible to believe she’s experienced a single setback in life. I still remember her striding in here two years ago with her proud and plentiful curves, endless legs and admirable aura of confidence.

Danielle is one of the many reasons I love working for Herman-Brown Marketing Solutions. I’ve been with the company ever since the incident. I needed a new start and a new me, yet what I do for a living still baffles most of my family. They can get their head around my brother being a used car salesman, but if anyone mentions that “Emma works in Marketing”, they scrunch up their noses with a deep sense of bewilderment – and injustice that they’re not paid to sit in a fancy office doing such an easy and lame excuse for work.

What Herman-Brown marketing does for organisations is actually easy to understand, if not to do: we manage their image and sell their brand. On the one hand, this means unearthing positive stories and making sure the media knows about them. On the other, it means spotting negative news stories and making sure the media knows nothing about them.

That’s the theory anyway. The practice can be different, I’ll admit. “Remind me how much this contract is worth,’” asks Dani.

I lift open the back page of my proposal and slide it over to her discreetly. “Sweet Mary mother of God.” She shakes her head. “We deserve the bonus to end all bonuses if we get this, Emma. Seriously, I expect to retire to a yacht in the Caribbean. Just a small one, nothing fancy.”

“You’d be bored shitless.”

“Nahh, I’d bring you to entertain me,” she grins.

“You and I would be good on the high seas.”

“It took me eight years to get my five hundred metres front crawl badge.”

“I’ll buy you a life jacket,” she promises.

“You two are very full of yourselves this morning.” The voice from the desk opposite belongs to Drew.

He’s good-looking, well-bred and a charmer – when he chooses to be. It’s a quality he uses when he needs to divert attention from his professional ability (which is shaky at best) or when there’s an attractive female around – preferably wearing a skirt the size of a tea cosy.

Such treatment is never directed at me; he prefers to wind me up instead. I’m sorry to say he’s often successful. “Damn right, of course we’re full of ourselves,” grins Dani. “We did brilliantly.”

Drew smiles back. “Happy to hear it, ladies. One of my pub quiz friends works for Webster Black HR and they’re going after that contract too, apparently.”

“One of your pub quiz friends?” repeats Dani.

“Yes. Did I mention I’ve been on the winning team of the north-west heats of Pub Quiz of the Year for three years?”

“Only every day since we met you, Drew,” she teases.

Her phone rings on the other side of the office and she goes to answer it. “Well, I hope you’re right, Emma,” continues Drew, as he examines his nails.

“I thought I’d let you know because Adam’s certain they’ve won the contract. Webster Black are experts in the field. I’d hate you to get your hopes up.”

He leans back in his chair and subconsciously rubs his crotch. Drew is one of those men whose hand is never far from their nether regions, as if permanently drawing attention to what they consider to be the most magnificent package bestowed on a human male. “I presume you were asked for a second interview?” he adds.

“I’m pretty sure we’ll get through to the second round,” I reply, filing away my documents. “I hope so anyway.”

“Great. Glad to hear it.” He smiles.“Rumour has it, they invited Webster Black back while they were still at the meeting.” I look up.

“They told Adam they were making a shortlist of three and Webster Black’s on it,” he continues. I know full well he’s trying to agitate me but refuse to rise to it.

“Well I guess might have said something like that to Dominique on the way out,” I reply breezily.

“Right, that’s good. Because it’d be awful not to reach the final three. That’d ruin your lucky run.”

“There isn’t anything lucky about our run, Drew,” I point out. Before he can respond, Little Janie, the office administrator, appears at our desk sporting new hair extensions.

“Morning, Emma. Four letters today.”

“Thanks, Janie,” I reply, putting them in my in-tray. “Great hair.”

Little Janie has been known as such since she started on work experience aged sixteen. She’s now five foot nine and twenty-three but the tag is unshakeable.

“Really, do you like it, Em?” she beams, twiddling with the raven-coloured ends of her hair. “It’s taken a bit of getting used to. The glue hasn’t half made it go crusty.”

“Really, your hair’s lovely,” I reassure her.

“Not a bit knotty?” She scrunches up her face.

“If you need anyone to run their fingers through it, let me know, won’t you?” Drew jumps in. I catch Janie’s eye and tut.

“Drew is rehearsing for the role of office s*x pest,” I tell her, but she’s too busy whooping with delight to hear.

“Don’t listen to her,” says Drew, winking.

“Emma is just irked because she’ll be too old for men to lust after her soon.”

“Hey, I’m only twenty-eight….”

“Lyst!” hoots Janie.

“Oooohh, I love a man with a big vocabulary.”

Drew doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s not the only thing that’s….”

“Dear God, Janie..” I cry. “How can a nice girl like you listen to this and not want to give him a slap?”

“Easy,” she giggles, and totters away. When I open my in-box, seventeen new emails have arrived in the two and a half hours I’ve been out of the office. I skim the list and open one.

To:Emma@Hermanbrown.com

From: Heidi@circlesports.com

Subject: Miscellaneous

Hi Lucy, A note from your favourite client to say we’re over the moon with the opening-night coverage of Heat this week. Luke must have watched himself on TV six times since you set up those interviews. And the piece in the Times. . . what can I say? Fantastic work as usual – thanks so much. On a separate and more important note, are you and Dani still in the market for a girls’ night out this weekend? My bank balance is begging for mercy but I can’t face another night of s*x and the City repeats. Please say it’s still on. Hxxx

Heidi is the Marketing Manager of the Circle Sports, one of the accounts I manage, and if all those I worked with were as nice as her, life would be significantly simpler. Heidi isn’t just an easygoing client and a lovely person, she’s a friend too. A proper friend with whom I spend time outside work because we genuinely get on – not because I’m ‘building client relationships’, i.e. making sure we continue to get their cash. I hit reply.

To: Heidi@circlesports.com

From: Emma@HermanBrown.com

Cc: Dani@HermanBrown.com

Subject: Re: Miscellaneous Course it’s still on. What do u take us for, lightweights? Exx

As I go through my other emails, it’s inevitable that not all are going to be as pleasant as Heidi’s. There’s one from a small but demanding client – an insurance firm – suggesting I target Fresh! with some four-month-old pictures of their staff drinks party. Then there’s the chain of DIY stores whose Marketing Manager has emailed with another set of amendments – the sixth – to a press release he officially signed off two days ago and which I sent out to the world’s media this morning. Finally, there’s a note from a potential client saying he needs to cancel our dinner date tonight and rearrange for a week on Tuesday – when I’m going to Cirque du Soleil. A response from Heidi pops up.

To: Emma@HermanBrown.com

From: Heidi@circlesports.com

Cc: Dani@HermanBrown.com

Subject: Re, re: Miscellaneous Fab. Where shall we meet? Hear that new place in Dale Street is good. H x p.s. Your pitch with that property firm must have gone well because their Marketing Manager phoned me for a reference. Obviously told him u were the best PR company in the world and he said they’re putting you on the shortlist.

To: Emma@HermanBrown.com

To:Heidi@circlesports.com

From: Dani@HermanBrown.com

Subject: Re, re, re: Miscellaneous I knew it! Emma– will you break this to Drew? While you’re at it, ask him to remove his hands from his groin. He has been rummaging there for half an hour and has completely put me off my prawn sandwich. D x