Page 75 of Enemies to French Kisses
“I don’t know that they’ll laugh in our faces for any of that,” Vincent sighs. “More likely they’ll fire us.”
Laura and I both glare at Vincent. “What?” He shrugs defensively. “You both talk in hyperbole, and I can’t tell the difference.”
Laura looks back at me. “Minimum of twenty sites. We have to hit geographic spread in year two.”
I get up and walk to the board. Laura’s huffing out her nose, which she only does when she’ll refuse to back down. After four days of ideation, I’m getting to see the little signs she gives.
“Seven.” I look at her sideways to watch her reaction.
“Seven?”
“Seven.”
“Seven.”
“Seven!” Vincent shouts. “He said seven sites.”
“Lucky sevens.” I wink at her and she lets out an exasperated sigh.
“This isn’t about luck. It’s about our ability to meet expectations on a timeline that hits their stated goal in year two.” Exasperation seeps out of Laura’s every word, but this time she’s off-base.
“I’m trying to find a way that we can take a stepped approach, not overstretch ourselves,” I reply, “so that we don’t lose them inmonthtwo, never mind year two.”
She narrows her eyes and tips her head as if I just called her a nasty name. “You doubt my modeling?”
I step closer to her, and she does the same, the intensity palpable, but this is the future of Innov’ Biotech and our careers at stake. “Not the model, only the logic behind it.”
She takes in a deep breath, about to lay into me, I can tell, but as her lips part, such gorgeous, soft lips that just a few days ago I felt on mine—
“Stop!”Vincent jumps from his chair, knocking it behind him in an echoing crash.“I can’t bear this for another second!”
He tears off his glasses and climbs on the conference table.
While this act alone would be cause for concern, I’m more surprised by the transformation he’s made.
I understand better why people couldn’t see that Clark Kent was Superman. Vincent has gone from tech geek to dashing commando in one fell swoop.
“I’m done with this!” He points his finger at Laura. “You. You approach problems from the final goal. You lay out milestones that lead you to the finish line but you are blind to the obstacles that risk to derail the project entirely.”
Laura gasps, but Vincent has hit the nail on the head and I feel vindicated, which must show in my smirk.
“And you, Marc.”
Uh oh.
“You are too nervous about taking any calculated risk, so you only plan for tiny baby steps which will never meet the client’s expectations nor fulfill our capacity to perform. That’s because—like in many aspects of your life—you are afraid. Cover it up with arrogance if you want, that can pass in France, but you’re in front of an American now. On top of that… one second.”
He climbs down gingerly from the table and pulls out a handkerchief to wipe the remnants of dirt left by his shoes.
“On top of that,” he continues, “the feelings you have for each other are so powerful, evenI’mstarting to get confused. Stop this foolishness! Smarten up, and realize that you just might be both perfect and horrible for each other at once. The sexual tension between you is killing me!”
He marches out of the conference room, leaving Laura and me with our mouths open, no words forthcoming.
She bites her lip while I wet mine, hoping to find a word suiting the moment.
But Vincent bursts back in.
He picks up the chair he flung on the floor and rolls it back to its proper place at the table, all the while glaring at the two of us. He then marches back out of the conference room and slams the door behind him.
