Page 79 of Enemies to French Kisses
“The scale-up plan is the reason we’re here,” a woman says, though I can’t tell which because with the shades drawn, they all blur in semi-darkness.
“Indeed,” I reply. “And I know how important it is to you to have precise detail—”
“Do you not know your own proposal’s implementation plan?” a man interrupts.
I do. I should. But everything is dripping out of my brain like coffee without a pot underneath. Why didn’t I print notes? How cocky was I thinking that it would be best that I had nothing in my hand, just speak to the details in the presentation slides. But technology always fails when you need it most. I knew that already!
Marc stands up quickly. “Allow me to take us through implementation phasing,” Marc steps forward. “While Laura designed the process in order to meet your criteria, she tasked me with ensuring that each step would be satisfactory given the regulatory environment in which you are operating.”
A murmur of agreement fills the room and I could kiss Marc right now if I weren’t in the first place, horrified, and in the second place…
There is no second place. I just want to kiss him.
As Vincent continues to work madly on the laptop, Marc talks them through each of the individual steps and the Dutch take notes. Marc pauses at just the right moments to drive home a point, or to allow them to note specifications.
Except he’s getting his math wrong.
He’s on a roll now, his lips moving faster than the speed of light and there’s no place for me to interrupt without making him look incompetent or us look divided.
I grab Vincent’s notebook and scratch the key numbers with dates and lay it in front of me.
If I stare at Marc long and hard enough, he’s going to make eye contact. I know he will. He must sense that I am drilling a hole into the side of his head with my gaze.
He looks at me, pausing as the Dutch take another series of notes. I smile, raise my eyebrows, and look down at my notebook, hoping he’ll follow my gaze. He does.
He gasps. Not loud enough for the Dutch to hear, but loud enough for Vincent and I.
“However,” he continues, “because we want to make sure that we come in on the budget you provided us, we suggest a more conservative approach from the one we are capable of meeting.”
Ohhhh, he’s good.
With that, he shares the correct numbers and the room is full of nodding heads, just as the presentation pops back to life.
“You had an overdue update to the operating system,” Vincent hisses at me, but I find his reprimand incredibly ill-timed.
“Let’s break here,” Guillaume jumps in. “It’s lunchtime, and I remind you that this is sacred in France. Let’s pick up again at two-thirty for technical review with Vincent.”
“Well done,” the woman who spoke up says to Marc and me as she leaves the room. We nod and smile to the others as they step out because my heart won’t allow anything more than that without it beating right out of my chest. Even Vincent storms down the hall with his vaper in hand.
It’s just me and Marc now.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” I grab his upper arms but can barely get my hands around them. “I was choking.”
“You were doing great. It’s not your fault it froze up.”
“Seems it was. I guess hitting ignore every time that ‘critical message’ popped up wasn’t such a great idea.”
“Andyousaved me from nearly sinking Innov’ Biotech. I can’t believe I got those numbers wrong.”
I grin. “You were giving them my numbers from the original proposal.”
“They sounded right in my head. So in the end, you’re the one who saved the day.”
“Excuse me.” A tall man with white hair comes back in the room, indeed bending to avoid the door frame. It’s Neils Hanbeeker. The head of the Dutch contingent. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I must ask you a question.”
This is it. Has he already made a decision? We haven’t even yet gotten to the technical details that will make our project shine. Marc must sense it too because as we stand side by side, he grabs my hand and holds it behind our backs.
“How can we help, Mr. Hanbeeker?”
