Macy strolled into the Albabo conference room with enough confidence to slay the negotiations. The room was the same as it was last year. The oval walnut table and red cushioned chairs were reassuring. All she needed to do was convince Albabo that English was their best choice of printing plates, just like last year.
The Albabo team hadn’t gathered yet, which gave her time to set up her presentation. She pulled her chair closer to the table and turned on her computer.
“Are you nervous?” Avery took the seat next to her.
“No.” There was no way to explain to him how the preparation for the meeting had been intense and now she wanted to purge all the details and experience some relief. She’d spent the night preparing. This morning was the performance.
The executives from Albabo walked into the conference room at nine. She pushed away from the table and welcomed the large contingent of employees whose job was to find advantages for their company.
“Avery, this is Pablo Mateo, the Executive Director. Pablo, Avery has just joined the English team as outside counsel. He’s observing today, getting an understanding of our corporate culture.” Avery smiled. He shook hands, and she led him around the room introducing him to everyone.
After the introduction, Macy returned to her seat and unofficially called the meeting to order. Her fingers danced across her keyboard as she went through her presentation. With each slide the tension in her shoulders disappeared.
“You are familiar with our product. We continue to make improvements that benefit our customers. Our highly productive plate processing technology will allow you to speed up processing, reduce cost, and help you to meet your goal of sustainability.”
Pablo cleared his throat. “Macy, I’m going to save you some time. We are familiar with the product. We love the product. It’s perfect for our corrugated packaging. But costs are too high. Every year another increase.” He patted the papers in front of him. “We need to lower our variable cost.”
The Albabo team nodded their heads in agreement. Macy jumped forward two slides. “We believe we can sell our product at a premium because we don’t just sell you the product and disappear. Our customer service is available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We offer a whole line of peripherals that enhance your workflow and production efficiency. Our competition doesn’t do that.”
He held up his hand stopping her. “Our shipping cost is three times higher. If we don’t stop the bleeding, we won’t be in business in a few years.”
“Pablo, we pride ourselves in being a full-service company. We have an experienced logistics team. Let me have our experts talk with your team. I’m sure together we can provide some suggestions that may help reduce your freight cost. I’d hate to see you switch to a cheaper product, when what you really need is help with your supply chain.”
A slow smile spread across Pablo’s face and Macy settled back in her chair.
The moment Macy stepped outside of the Albabo office she let the exhilaration wash over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much contentment.
Avery held out his hand to her. “You did it. They were tough, but you were tougher.”
“Admit it. You didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”
“Let’s say, I no longer doubt you. Negotiating is in your blood, you could be my second chair anytime you want.”
They walked toward the waiting cab.
“This calls for a celebration.” He opened the car door and she climbed into the back seat. He slid in beside her. “The good restaurants won’t open for dinner until eight or nine tonight. We can toast your success in the hotel bar.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” The hotel bar was a neutral zone. It wasn’t a date. They were just having a cocktail. That was innocent enough.
The hotel bar was full of men in suits, with a few women peppered in. The place had a festive vibe, which fit with her mood.
“Grab the table. I’ll get the drinks. What do you want?” Avery said.
“Slightly dirty martini.” She weaved through a group of men blocking the walkway and sat with her back to the wall. She had a clear view of Avery as he waited at the bar. He was nothing like the stuff she read about him in the papers. If he was a playboy, he hadn’t shown any of those characteristics around her. His head didn’t snap around every time a pretty lady walked by. He seemed content to give her his undivided attention. And he never hesitated to pick up the check. Sure, he had plenty of money, but still he was a class act. If only…
She shook her head. Now wasn’t a time to start having silly thoughts about him. She exhaled through her mouth and extracted her phone from her purse. She dialed Celeste’s number. After several rings it clicked over to voice mail.
“Celeste, I’ve been working with Stan to fix my access into the accounting system. It’s been a full day and I still can’t get in. Can you follow-up with him to get this corrected. I have some things I need to check. Thanks for your help.”
“Is everything okay?” Avery asked before placing the drinks on the table.
“I’m just leaving a message for Celeste about the system.” She picked up the toothpick that held the three olives and pulled one off.
He held his martini glass in midair. “Let’s toast to your bad ass skills.”
She picked up her glass and tapped it to his. No one had ever called her a bad ass. Was this the way it felt when you had someone to share your life with, someone to recognize your hard work and help you celebrate it? She tried not to blush.
“Thank you, Avery.”
“Offering to help them reduce their freight cost was ingenious.”
“We often offer to help our customers, with financing, sourcing issues, even marketing.” She sipped her drink. The raw taste of Vodka was rough against her throat. “You seemed surprised. Did you think I was going to fluff the meeting?”
“No. In the beginning I was a knuckle-head. I judged you before I even knew you. I was wrong. But I will tell you, some of it was your fault.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.
“My fault?” She drew back.
“Yeah. You caught me off guard. I was fumbling with words and forgot all my game. You made me look like an amateur.”
She chuckled, unable to remember the last time she was this relaxed around a man. Even in his club, she was cautious. Gayle was right, she needed to get out more, have fun. Flirting like this was only good in your twenties and thirties. Once she hit forty, she would come off as desperate. “You think you’ve got game, huh?”
“Didn’t you notice? Then I must have been worse than I thought. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
She made a haphazard effort of crossing her heart. “We’ll see.”