There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (5 page)

“Here’s the agenda for the meeting.”
 

I take the paper. I can’t believe the president of the company walked across the aisle to hand me this. “Thanks.”
 

He turns around but stops in the doorway to face me. “So you’re married?”

I blink, shocked by that question. “No, why?”

“You said ‘I love you.’”

I frown. How in the hell does that equate to marriage? I shake my head. “Oh, I was just talking to Jack, telling him thank you for everything. And, um, thank
you
too.” I study his expression. So far, he’s been ignoring the fact that he handed me my dream job on a platinum platter.

 
“Oh, how is Jack? Is he enjoying Malta?”
 

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, but it’s always roses for him when Daisy’s around.”

Vincent chuckles. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Now that Jack had refreshed my memory, I remember everything about Vincent. I used to stare at Robert Tango relentlessly. I didn’t have any friends during those four months at that Denver high school. Charlie used to send girls who liked him to my class right before lunch and have them walk me to the cafeteria. They told me that he wanted me to meet him in the cafeteria because he had something to tell me.
 

Three times he got away with it. I was forced to sit and have eye-gouging conversations about boys, makeup, and stupid high school gossip. They wanted to know as much about Charlie as they possibly could. I would never bad-mouth my cousin to a stranger, so I never told them that his intentions are always good, but in the end, he can’t stop himself from being a jackass.
 

The fourth time he tried to send a poor girl to keep me company during lunchtime, I told her to tell Charlie I said this and flipped her the bird. She gasped as if I’d slapped her. Later, Charlie told me she’d claimed I hurt her feelings.
 

The girls there were of a different caliber. They were offended by everything, and the only time they could toughen up was when they were drunk. Then they went from delicate to hell bats. There was no in between.
 

I kind of knew they had no chance with Charlie. He’s always liked chicks who knew how to shove a boot up his ass. When he got older, he’d go on a fuck-a-thon whenever he flew out to visit us in Manhattan.
 

Back then, the rumor was that Robert Tango had just broken up with his girlfriend and he liked a girl, except no one knew whom. I swore I was his mysterious love interest. We used to stare at each other from across the cafeteria or gym during co-ed P.E. We grinned at one another whenever we passed in the hallways. We had Advanced Economics together, and he would stare at me a lot during class too. Robert was part of the in crowd.
 

I’d never noticed Vincent Adams until one day when Robert waved at me. I waved back. Vincent yanked on his collar and whispered in his ear. Whatever he said changed everything. Robert became more careful about the attention he paid me, though he continued to watch me whenever he thought no one was looking. If he wasn’t brave enough to defy his ignorant friends, then screw him. So I stopped noticing him. When my mom was asked to be editor-in-chief of
Trend
magazine in New York, I didn’t have to think about him anymore.

“I’ll see you in the meeting,” Vincent says and walks back to his office.

Yep, that’s certainly the kid from high school. Back then, he was the cockiest of the bunch. He still has the same copper hair, blue-green eyes, and athletic build. I don’t get why he gave me this job after messing things up between Robert and me. Robert had made me want to hand him my virginity on a platter. We had chemistry, kind of like what’s going on between Vincent and me. Except Vincent is still the popular boy who dates popular girls, and I’m still the chick who thinks boys like that are too boring to notice.

I make some changes to the outline Linda emailed me and send it back to her. Vincent watches me as I take off my jacket. I have a few minutes to grab my bag and go into the restroom and try to brush my saggy hair.
 

After finding a tie in my bag, I pull my hair into a ponytail. I brush on some mascara and glide a little gloss across my lips. Thank God I put on a black camisole. I keep my blazer off even though my bare shoulders make me look like Casper the Friendly Ghost. At least I have a graceful neck. That’s one complimentary physical attribute that I can’t deny.
 

I check my watch. We have three minutes before meeting time. Lo and behold, I nearly collide into Vincent on the way out of the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he says as he holds my shoulders.
 

His hands are damp and warm. I feel as if my spirit is floating above my body. It’s the craziest sensation. We’re trapped in an eye lock, and then he walks away.

I shake it off. I refuse to let awkwardness ruin what I’ve been working for. So what if I knew Vincent Adams in high school? Actually, I can’t even say that I knew him. I really only paid attention to him the day he whispered something about me to Robert.

I collect Linda, and we head into the meeting with two minutes to spare. A lot of people seem surprised to see Linda, especially Lena.
 

She stops whatever conversation she’s having with another woman. “Good morning, Maggie,” she pauses, “and Linda.”

“Linda and I worked late on some ideas for today’s meeting, and I thought she should be here since we’re a team,” I explain.

“Oh. Well, that sounds great.”

The meeting starts when Vincent walks into the room. He takes the seat at the head of the table. He has a thick notepad, a pen, and a stack of stapled papers.
 

I can do this. He’s nothing more than the big boss. All that strange business with Robert Tango happened twelve years ago. I’ve changed a lot since then, and apparently he has too.

Vincent flips the pages of the notebook, studying each one. “We have a new marketing manager. Maggie Conroy is in charge of corporate branding.” He looks up. “Lena, how are we doing on the polo match tomorrow?”
 

Lena hesitates. She seems stunned by how short that introduction was. “We’ve walked the grounds and approved the setup.”

“How’s our visibility?” He’s staring Lena dead in the eyes; it’s as if he’s trying to hypnotize her.
 

She’s not fazed at all. “We’ve set up a seventy-two-inch monitor. It will loop the Argentina Dine and Divulge and South Beach Best’s segments from (dot)Fine TV.”

“Those are good choices. What about banners?”

“We’re on the left and right of the on-field stage, and there’s one inside of the tent. We’re the only sponsors given permission to display eight by ten banners. I’ve put one at the entrance of the tent and one in the VIP section.”

Vincent writes something in a notebook. “And they’re the ones that we approved?”

“Yes.”

“Maggie, anything to add?” he asks without looking up.

Oh shit. This is a test. All eyes are on me. They’re probably waiting for the golden girl who waltzed in off the streets without a proper interview to fall flat on her face. The trick for now is to keep it together, stay composed.
 

“I haven’t had the chance to assess the grounds. However, I would think we want to hit them over the head with our presence without hitting them over the head.” I face Lena. “Have we considered who we’re targeting and why?”

“Of course.” Lena slides me the event profile packet. “Page three, section 4a.”
 

I go directly to it. “If trendy females ages twenty-five through forty-five are your target demographic, then we’re set up in the right places. I like the logo, and the font speaks to them. Do we have a banner in the media station?”
 

“Actually, no,” Lena says.

“Then you should get one there. When interviews are being done, A&Rt Media should be in the background. You can also probably sneak into a few more areas and”—I flip the page to continue skimming the media coverage section—“maybe you can figure out other ways to get impromptu visibility.”

Vincent finally pins his eyes on me. “I like that. I want you at the event tomorrow.”

I tap Linda’s shoulder. “What time should we be there?”

“I’m sorry, did I miss something? Linda, when were you promoted?” a woman asks. I don’t like her condescending tone.

Linda becomes wide-eyed and tongue-tied.
 

“She and I are a team,” I reply. “If she’s a marketing assistant, then she needs to be there to assist with marketing tasks.”
 

“If that’s your choice,” she says.

“That is my choice.”
 

“Are we now promoting our assistants ourselves?” she complains to Lena.

“Maggie is free to use Linda in whatever capacity she deems fit,” Lena replies.

Everyone watches me. I glance at my hands to calm down. I’m angry and embarrassed about getting riled up only minutes into my first A&Rt meeting. This other manager tried to Cruella La Bitch
my
assistant for no valid reason. Perhaps she’s jealous. Linda is va-va-voom, and the other lady, who I assume is a manager, is an average pretty brunette with almond eyes and a perfectly symmetrical face.

“Well, that’s settled,” Vincent says, signaling a change in subject.
 

When I look up, one of the male managers at the end of the table flashes me a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs-up. I smile weakly.
 

“Keith,” Vincent says so loudly that I jump.
 

The thumbs-up guy says, “Yes?”

Vincent scowls. “What about the IK app demonstrations?”

“We’re setting them up at the entrance—”

“That’s not the best spot. Have you visited the site?”

“No, but Lena gave us an area scheme—”

“Three times I told you this. You can’t base spatial decisions from paper maps. You have to see it with your own eyes.”

If I’m not mistaken, Vincent is going at him pretty aggressively. Keith appears surprised by it. I flip the pages of my handout and land on the area map they’re referring to. I see Vincent’s point. The entrance is narrow and fifty feet away from the main tent. I would think most attendees wouldn’t hang around the front because nothing is going on there. They’ll head straight toward the drinks, food, and entertainment.
 

“You need to ride out there today”—Vincent shakes a piece of paper—“and get me something more realistic than this shit.”

Keith flexes his jaw. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want. You might as well get on the road while there’s no traffic.”

Keith thrusts forward in his seat. “Right now?”

Vincent does something between a snarl and a smirk. “Not later.”

Keith sighs hard and throws up his hands. “I don’t have a car today.”

“Take a company car, and Cecil and Georgiana will go with you. Janice, I want you to go too.”

Janice points to me. “What about her? She should ride out and check the site.”

“No. Maggie has enough on her plate with tomorrow’s event, and today she needs to have a sit-down with the IK production team.”

I do?

“But that’s me!” Keith complains.
 

“That’s Laszlo. He’s development,” Vincent says to me specifically.

I’ve been following the discussion as if it’s a verbal tennis match. Janice gives me the evil eye. I’d already laid the foundation for us to never be friends when I snapped at her about Linda.
 

“It’s not a problem. I can go, and I have a car,” I say. Actually, it would be fun to drive out to the site and check it out beforehand.

“Maggie’s staying here,” he says as if that’s final. “Take a company car, Keith. They come with a driver, for goodness’ sake. What the hell’s the issue?”

Keith’s eyes dart over to my face. “I have a lot of work to do on the setup before tomorrow. I didn’t plan on riding all the way out to Southampton.”

“What about Lacey? She’s your assistant. Maggie’s got the right idea. Start using your assistants to get shit done, not to do your shit. Now go.”

I bite my lower lip to keep from cheesing, but Linda and I smile at each other with our eyes. After Keith and Janice exit, the meeting goes on for another hour and a half.
 

I find out afterward that Lena only attended because I was new and she wanted to see how well I would perform. According to her, I passed with flying colors.

When I get back to my computer, Vincent has already sent me an email with more information regarding the IK App. The message is signed
Vince
. Have we known each other long enough to be so informal? I decide to not respond at all. I open the attachment and learn more about this product that’s going to take complete control of my life from now until who knows how long.
 

It’s quite a remarkable piece of technology. It’s supposed to know how to answer any question. Unlike other apps and websites, it provides the user with only superior information.
 

For instance, a user can ask, “What’s the best red lipstick on the market?” IK App will give them the top three brands, compare and contrast them, provide detailed product information, reviews, prices, and the best place and way to purchase the one they want, along with a coupon or discount code if they purchase through the app. A user can ask the app which magazine to subscribe to in order to learn more about fireflies, and it will provide the top three options. It’s a know-it-all app, but unlike a human know-it-all, the IK app is supposed to be right.
 

I’ve been reading so long that it suddenly occurs to me that I’m supposed to meet some guy named Laszlo. My office door is open because everyone does that, and I don’t want to digress from the norm. I look over into Vincent’s office, and a leggy beauty in scarlet skinny pants and a tight black-and-white polka dot sweater is sitting on his desk. I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I didn’t see her go into his office. He’s sitting comfortably in his seat with his hands behind his head, laughing at something she’s saying.