AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I plaster on a smile as the doors slide open. Here we go. Watch out, world of business. Maddie Emerson has arrived to turn your outdated PR around.
Well, as soon as I figure out how to walk in these four-inch torture devices.
My phone pings. It’s Grace sending me words of encouragement.
Grace: You got this Mads! I know those corporate suits seem intimidating, but you’ll walk in there and wow them. Keep that pretty head of yours held high.
Me: Aw, I needed that little pep talk. These sky-high heels have me tottering like Bambi on ice. But as long as I don't faceplant, I suppose it will be ok. Love ya, wish me luck!
Grace: Go get ‘em!
“Maddie! So wonderful to meet you.” A tall woman in her forties wearing a perfectly pressed pantsuit comes clicking down the hall in her stilettos. Just looking at them makes my feet throb.
Oh, wait. They are already throbbing from my own shoes.
“I'm Amanda, head of PR and Marketing,” she introduces herself with an impossibly white smile. Her firm handshake tells me she is all business.
Yikes.
Amanda gestures for me to follow her swift steps. I scramble to keep up as she fills me in on Whitmore Tech’s social media advertising and goals to revamp the brand's image. My mind spins trying to keep up with all the fancy vocabulary. It's a foreign language after the world of captions and hashtags I'm used to.
When she finally pauses for breath, I jump in. “I'd love to start by auditing your current platforms. Which ones are you using?”
“We have Facebook and X so far and have been looking into Instagram lately.”
“Ok, I’ll get the lay of the land. Then we can look at what content performs best and where the gaps are before strategizing how to expand our reach.”
I rattle off a few more ideas, gaining steam as I enter my social media wheelhouse. Amanda nods along, spewing more lingo for analytics and metrics that I frantically try to imprint to memory.
A passing woman pops her head in. “Amanda, Mr. Whitmore wants that new hire in the conference room right now.”
The summons makes my stomach drop. Amanda hushes my sputtering worries with a pat on the shoulder meant to reassure me. But it only amplifies the hammering pulse in my temples.
“Mr. Whitmore of Whitmore Tech?” I manage to squeak out, smoothing my blazer with clammy palms. I knew being the young upstart hire would draw attention, but I didn't expect immediate scrutiny from the top boss himself.
“You'll do wonderfully. Mr. Whitmore, our CEO, likes to meet all new additions personally. And you’re quite an unusual hire, you know. So young, and with such unique qualifications.”
If she was trying to encourage me, she failed spectacularly. My knees wobble like jelly while I try to keep up with her.
We click-clack rapidly toward the important-sounding Executive Conference Room A. I nervously fiddle with my mother’s pearls around my neck, the string now feeling like it's strangling me rather than accentuating my chic sample sale outfit. I remind my panicking brain of my earlier pep talk with Grace—chin up, buttercup, and all that jazz.
As much as I try to calm my nerves, a terse corporate environment is galaxies away from my home office in my bedroom headquarters with inspirational quotes on colorful post-it notes. Just this endless sterile hallway with Amanda's assuring yet distant pats is doing nothing to loosen my panic.
Outside imposing double doors, she turns to me with an encouraging smile. “Just be your bright self. You'll be brilliant.” Before I can clarify what exactly my true, untested brilliant self in this alien environment should look like, Amanda opens the doors.
I lift my trembling chin and smooth my features into what hopefully resembles rocksteady confidence. Get it together, Maddie! It's just your average business meeting with average businesspeople. If nothing else, I’m a pro at convincingly playing a role for fleeting TikTok videos. I dance in parks and in subway cars, not caring for what other people think of me. Time to see if that skill will work its magic beyond my phone screen.
I take a deep breath and step in. But the moment I cross the threshold, my eyes lock on the tall drink of water at the head of the table.
Mr. Whitmore?
Oh no.
“Mr. Whitmore, meet Maddie Emerson, our new hire on the marketing team.” Amanda’s voice is faint, just like the faces of others in the room.
Oh no, no, no.
We need no introductions.
