straight. My eyes were burning and my deodorant had long since ceased to be effective. I hadn’t consumed anything but coffee and Diet Coke, but that wasn’t why I felt light headed. I was dizzy with excitement. After reviewing one tediously boring contract after another, I’d come across my own version of a smoking gun.
I squinted at the clock on my computer. 9:55 A.M . Five minutes to freshen up. I swiped a handiwipe under my arms, ran a brush through my hair, and popped a breath mint. After a futile attempt to dab out a grease stain on my skirt, I picked up my notes and headed down the corridor to Ben’s office, mentally giving myself one final pep talk.
Ben looked well rested and freshly showered as he waved me in from behind his polished desk. I felt a pang of embarrassment, but hoped my unkempt appearance communicated my level of commitment. Maybe this was what he meant by going “above and beyond.”
I handed Ben the due diligence checklist so he could get an idea of the dent we’d put in the work load. He ran his eyes over it, expressionless, then put it down and launched into a list of outstanding items he wanted me to attend to. I scratched feverishly on my notepad. He was adding a lot of work to what already felt like a bottomless pit.
“So.” He blew out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. “Any red flags in the due diligence I should know about?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, actually I found something that may be of interest to you.”
His lips pressed into a thin, impatient line.
“Ben?” A sharp voice trilled through the office.
I looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway. She was wearing another one of her flawlessly pressed, fitted black suits, and a pair of blood-red stilettos.
“You wanted to see me?” she said, in crisp, precise diction.
“Yes.” Ben perked up as he waved her inside. “Take a seat. We’re just about done here.” He gestured with his chin towards me.
“Great.” Sarah flashed a Cheshire smile as she sauntered over to the chair beside me. Her eyes swept over me and I was suddenly very aware of my greasy hair sticking to the back of my neck.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping Ben had the good sense not to mention the StarCorp secondment. I knew from Sadir that Sarah had been passed over for the secondment two years ago, the position going to a well-connected associate who had the good fortune of being related to the CEO of a big client. If Sarah caught wind that I was in the running for the secondment this year that would be akin to painting a giant target on my back and handing her a gun.
“What was your question, Mackenzie?” Ben asked distractedly as he watched Sarah lean back in her chair and cross her toned legs. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to pull a Sharon Stone right before my eyes. She did have a way of carrying herself in the office that seemed to be the perfect balance of offering herself up a silver platter while still maintaining professionalism. She laughed a little louder at men’s jokes, lingered with eye contact and strategic lip licking but, annoyingly, she still spoke with authority and proficiency.
I looked down at my notepad, doing my best to ignore the flush that was creeping up my neck. “Well, Highlander gets all of its bedding from Southern Hospitality, the company that owns the Blissful Bed Collection, pursuant to a five year supply contract they have in place. The contract is set to expire at the end of March and so far I haven’t come across any plans to renew. So —”
Ben waved his hand dismissively, interrupting me. “That’s not noteworthy. With a company of their size supply contracts can fall through the cracks. Just make a note of it in the diligence memo.” He tossed me back the diligence checklist.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the side of Sarah’s thin lips curl up into a smirk. I wanted to reach over and wipe the smug look off her face.
“This supply contract is
I squinted at the clock on my computer. 9:55 A.M . Five minutes to freshen up. I swiped a handiwipe under my arms, ran a brush through my hair, and popped a breath mint. After a futile attempt to dab out a grease stain on my skirt, I picked up my notes and headed down the corridor to Ben’s office, mentally giving myself one final pep talk.
Ben looked well rested and freshly showered as he waved me in from behind his polished desk. I felt a pang of embarrassment, but hoped my unkempt appearance communicated my level of commitment. Maybe this was what he meant by going “above and beyond.”
I handed Ben the due diligence checklist so he could get an idea of the dent we’d put in the work load. He ran his eyes over it, expressionless, then put it down and launched into a list of outstanding items he wanted me to attend to. I scratched feverishly on my notepad. He was adding a lot of work to what already felt like a bottomless pit.
“So.” He blew out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. “Any red flags in the due diligence I should know about?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, actually I found something that may be of interest to you.”
His lips pressed into a thin, impatient line.
“Ben?” A sharp voice trilled through the office.
I looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway. She was wearing another one of her flawlessly pressed, fitted black suits, and a pair of blood-red stilettos.
“You wanted to see me?” she said, in crisp, precise diction.
“Yes.” Ben perked up as he waved her inside. “Take a seat. We’re just about done here.” He gestured with his chin towards me.
“Great.” Sarah flashed a Cheshire smile as she sauntered over to the chair beside me. Her eyes swept over me and I was suddenly very aware of my greasy hair sticking to the back of my neck.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, hoping Ben had the good sense not to mention the StarCorp secondment. I knew from Sadir that Sarah had been passed over for the secondment two years ago, the position going to a well-connected associate who had the good fortune of being related to the CEO of a big client. If Sarah caught wind that I was in the running for the secondment this year that would be akin to painting a giant target on my back and handing her a gun.
“What was your question, Mackenzie?” Ben asked distractedly as he watched Sarah lean back in her chair and cross her toned legs. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to pull a Sharon Stone right before my eyes. She did have a way of carrying herself in the office that seemed to be the perfect balance of offering herself up a silver platter while still maintaining professionalism. She laughed a little louder at men’s jokes, lingered with eye contact and strategic lip licking but, annoyingly, she still spoke with authority and proficiency.
I looked down at my notepad, doing my best to ignore the flush that was creeping up my neck. “Well, Highlander gets all of its bedding from Southern Hospitality, the company that owns the Blissful Bed Collection, pursuant to a five year supply contract they have in place. The contract is set to expire at the end of March and so far I haven’t come across any plans to renew. So —”
Ben waved his hand dismissively, interrupting me. “That’s not noteworthy. With a company of their size supply contracts can fall through the cracks. Just make a note of it in the diligence memo.” He tossed me back the diligence checklist.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the side of Sarah’s thin lips curl up into a smirk. I wanted to reach over and wipe the smug look off her face.
“This supply contract is
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