Left (Still Standing, #1)

by Graves, T. R.

  What feels like eons later, but is really just an instant, Ryker turns back into the billionaire businessman selling his product. He tears his stare from me and gives his full attention to rest of the room.

  "Now, I'm here today to talk to this team of incredibly talented people. A team that Alex swears is the best in the business. I'm hoping that being the best means you've taken notes while you've been working with our clients, that you've identified challenges that may be plaguing hospitals across the nation."

  Ryker takes a second to make eye contact with each individual person on my team the way a good leader would if he were trying to make them think he cares about them.

  It reminds me of the way he's been enamoring me all weekend.

  As if Ryker's moment of attention supercharges them, each person's admiration and respect for him grows, forms, and becomes so obvious that it quite nearly takes on a spirit of its own. I know from personal experience that Ryker has a talent for wooing people. After witnessing the scene before me, I'm convinced that right here, right now every person in this room would charge into war for Ryker Russell if he asked.

  When his hypnotic gaze lands on me, I look away. I've been enamored enough by him. That doesn't stop him from keeping his focus on me. With the intensity of his stare, I'm reminded of a little boy using the sun and a magnifying glass to burn holes into something.

  "I'm giving each of you five minutes of my time to sell me on a project that you believe will be industry changing. If your project is selected, your team will be hand-selected by you. They will be charged with investigating and detailing every aspect of this project, for formulating short- and long-term phases, and for recommending and creating software solutions that will allow the hospitals to automate processes which will be geared toward improving efficiency and minimizing the number of people required to perform these types of duties," Ryker says, challenging each of us and pitting employee against employee.

  In unison, a long-winded moan of awe is uttered by every single person standing in Ryker's vicinity. Including me. I work with a team of alphas who are highly functioning and extremely competitive. I see the instant change in the demeanor of my peers as they plan to take Ryker's challenge to heart and use it to present a winning project.

  Instantly, I can tell who all will be competing (Falan and Gabe) because those alphas sit up straighter, square their shoulders, and a glazed expression of take no prisoners crosses their face. I recognize the signs because I'm exhibiting every one of them. I've been ordered fired, and like one of the rap songs I listened to on the way to work, I feel like I have one shot, one opportunity. I have every intention of capturing it.

  Besides, Ryker needs to know Alex has no idea what he's talking about.

  The opportunity to undermine Alex's judgment and management style is almost more enticing than anything else about the challenge. If I get fired anyway, I'll know I went down fighting.

  Without giving it a second thought, I know exactly what project plan I'm going to suggest. I presented it to Alex months ago, and he promptly shot down, even though I know it would save hospitals millions over the course of a few years, improve efficiency, minimize staff, and increase compliance with state and federal regulations.

  With my job on the line and some peers to show up, I decide that I'm in a nothing ventured, nothing gained situation. I have no home or car and no family to take me in. It's up to me to sell everyone in this room—not just Ryker—on this project.

  "Who would like to go first?" Ryker asks.

  I don't wait for anyone else to respond. If I'm going to win this competition, I must have the confidence of a show pony and the assertive sense of entitlement asshole billionaires have.

  "I will," I say, standing up and speaking before anyone else has a chance to say a word or make a move.

  Every head in the entire room jerks my way and most have an expression of pure shock. It is obvious that no one who has ever worked with me expects me to be the most aggressive person in the group. Especially not Falan or Gabe. The two of them glare at each other and roll their eyes.

  Ignoring their meanness, the nerves in my stomach, and the tremors in my hands, I walk straight to the white board and turn toward my audience.

  That is when I see Ryker's raised eyebrows. "Thank you for volunteering, Ms...?

  "I am Ms. Messenger," I say, perfectly articulating every syllable since I'm in full presentation mode.

  At the same time, I'm confirming for Ryker that I am indeed the person he ordered Alex to get rid of. I swear I see a veil of regret cross his face as soon as he hears my name. He'd hoped he'd been wrong, but he wasn't. He'd unknowingly joined efforts with Colt.

  Good for you, Ryker.

  I ignore his remorse and focus on the task at hand: keeping my job. I've been a project manager long enough to know that the premise of what I'm proposing must be simple. I have to communicate the benefits effectively while embedding the right amount of passion within my sale's pitch. If I do this effectively, my chances will be solid. If I don't, I might as well leave at the end of my presentation. I'm secretly hoping that being the first presenter will give me the advantage of blowing Ryker's mind without having the clamor of previous presenters and their projects influencing his decisions.

  "Not to make you any more nervous, Ms. Messenger, but I should tell you that this position comes with a Vice President over Innovative Technology title that will report directly to me, a salary increase, and bonuses that incrementally increase the quicker the projects are completed, the tighter the project's budget is maintained, and the more services we are able to sell to our clients," Ryker says, talking slow in order to drive each point home.

  I try not to focus on Falan, who is looking at Ryker like his offer is the Holy Grail. She's been sleeping with Alex for this type of promotion. The thought of finally achieving that level of success (and not having to sleep with Alex anymore) quite nearly makes her salivate.

  I nod. "Duly noted, Mr. Russell."

  Scanning the room and steeling my nerves, I notice everyone is fixated on me and extremely curious about what I'm about to share with Ryker. For a heartbeat, I stand awkward, nearly shaking my own confidence. When I see Falan's smirk—the same one I wanted to slap off her face earlier and one that tells me she thinks she's got this in the bag—I decide to show her what real competition looks like.

  In full presenter mode, I flash the audience my most charming and charismatic beauty contestant smile. I make a special point of keeping eye contact with Ryker from that moment forward. If I sell him on this project, these people will follow his lead.

  "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Russell. I can't tell you what this means to me," I say, oozing the kind of fake sweetness that gets brownnosers ahead in life.

  Ryker's not fooled, but he graciously nods and motions with his hand for me to carry on with the presentation.

  I turn toward the board and reach for a dry-erase marker and notice that my hand is still trembling. I grip that marker like it's a matter of life and death, reaching deep within myself and willing my nerves to calm while deciding not to try to write. Turning toward the crowd, I begin.

  "I've been fortunate to lead a half dozen projects during my year at Triple R Enterprise. Several of my smaller projects have been managed simultaneous to the larger, more prominent projects. Through hard work, time management, and constant customer communication, I've completed every one of them well before their assigned deadline and under budget. The significant bonuses you and your company have seen as result of my ability to manage a project should be all the proof you need to show that what I'm saying is true," I say, reminding him that he needs to objectively review my proven track record rather than depend on Alex's subjective opinion.

  Ryker's gaze meets Alex's. He's silently asking for confirmation, and as much as Alex hates to admit I'm right, he has no option but to nod his head one time in agreement. Ryker's teeth grit, and he refocuses on my presentation.

>   "When I work with hospitals, I begin the engagement by sitting with the upper and mid-level management and asking them questions that are geared toward flushing out known problems. As a nurse who was doing bedside nursing one year ago, I have an advantage my peers don't. Our customers know my recommendations come from a place of understanding exactly what their employees are facing every day."

  Ryker makes a note, one Alex tries to read, but Ryker lays his hand over it as soon as he's finished.

  "I do this not so I can fix their every problem during that single engagement. Instead, I do it in order to proactively identify issues that might delay our project. With these things in mind, I create realistic timelines that are signed off on and agreed upon by the hospital's leadership.

  "While I'm talking to the leadership about the conservative timelines, I remind them that Triple R. Enterprise is available to sign on for another engagement, focusing next time on that particular problem.

  "I should mention that I had two additional projects assigned to me last week after the hospital administrators specifically requested that I lead those engagements. Of course, it's only fair since I'm the one who identified their problem and sold them on the new service," I say with confidence.

  For the second time, Ryker casts a disapproving glace toward Alex, who sheepishly nods. Ryker closes his eyes, shakes his head, and turns his full attention back toward me.

  "Mr. Russell, the problem I'm presenting is complicated, but I'm going to keep this simple. Hospitals are struggling with their credits balances, the money the patients have overpaid, and their ability to refund that money timely and accurately," I announce.

  When I do, Alex rubs his hand through his hair, moans quietly, and rolls his head back like he can't believe this is the topic I've taken to Ryker. Nothing about his show of disrespect or his passive body language sits well with Ryker.

  "Alex, if what Ms. Messenger has to say is not interesting to you, you are welcome to leave. I can fill you in later on who your new peer will be and which project we'll be working on," Ryker declares, and the anger embedded in his voice, the irritation with Alex is noticeable.

  Alex perks up quickly and defends himself. "Ryker, she brought this to me right after she came here. I told her that hospitals would not spend any money on projects geared toward refunding money. Their goals... our goals are focused on bringing money in and not sending it out. I also reminded her that Triple R Enterprise has a subsidiary company that embeds themselves within these organizations and helps them with their refunds. If we make the process more efficient, we will be undercutting that business," Alex says. His voice is high pitched and defensive. The underlying contempt he has for me has never been more evident than it is now.

  Ryker flashes a glare that makes me think he's sure Alex has just lost his mind. Alex squirms beneath it. For all practical purposes, Alex is socially retarded. He has no concept of boundaries and has no filter in his head to keep him from saying or doing socially unacceptable things. The wrinkled forehead that signifies for me the fact that he has no idea that he's said anything wrong goes a long way toward proving my theory.

  I intervene. "That's right, Mr. Russell, he did. I disagreed with him then, and I disagree with him now. Good hospital administrators—the kind I work with—want their accounts receivables to be accurate. They want everything being worked that needs to be worked because there are compliance issues that can cause them problems if they don't work underpayments and overpayments, if they don't do the refunds they should be doing."

  Ryker nods as if he knows exactly what I'm talking about, and he agrees with me. I'm feeling more comfortable when I notice Ryker has moved forward in his seat. He's distancing himself from Alex and hanging on my every word.

  "According to the hospitals I work with, a credit always signals a problem but rarely results in a refund," I say, waiting for that information to sink in with Ryker and the rest of the room.

  "These credits are oftentimes false, meaning a system issue—possibly an over-adjustment—has inappropriately caused the credit. I won't go into the details here, but I have several ideas on how we can help hospitals work on resolving and avoiding those false credits," I explain, making sure I don't get so far into the details that I lose Ryker.

  Again, he nods. I see the wheels turning. He's interested in this subject. Now, I need to go in for the kill.

  "The other credit opportunity is related to accounts where the patient has overpaid. Normally, this type of credit would mean a refund. After I met with the hospital administrators, I found out that these same patients frequently have other open accounts. If they transfer the money to the open account, they don't have to issue the time-consuming and labor-intensive refunds and the patients' outstanding balances are minimized. The patient wins, and the hospital wins," I say satisfactorily.

  Ryker nods and makes another note. I feel the weight of Alex's glare on me for betraying him and for presenting the project he rejected. I ignore him.

  "These overpayments are a problem in hospitals, one where they spend lots of resources. They have people pulling reports, manually reviewing accounts, and physically transferring the payments to the accounts," I say passionately.

  "I'm proposing that we build a tool that will data mine for these overpayments. It will look at every true credit, identify all open accounts with balances, and create a remit that will write down the credit account while posting that same payment to the account with a balance. Not only will this make the credit process transparent and auditable for the hospitals, it will allow the hospitals to automate a process that has been manual up until this point. It will improve their account receivables, their compliance, their accuracy, patient satisfaction, and minimize the staff they devote toward this irritant so they can get back to the business of taking care of patients."

  I finish with a slight bow of my head and then mentally kick myself for doing that.

  No matter what Alex thinks, Ryker's not royalty.

  No one says anything. Everyone is waiting on Ryker's reaction. They don't want to love anything he hates or hate anything he loves. I slip back toward my seat, assuming Ryker's opinions would be held for later so no one would have any idea who was winning our friendly little competition.

  I'm about to sit down when I hear clapping. I assume that Alex has initiated a new round of applause for Ryker just because he's Ryker and he's determined to kiss his ass. When I glance around and see that it is Ryker who is standing up and he is clapping for me, my face flushes and burns scarlet.

  "Congratulations, Ms. Messenger. That was perfect!" Ryker turns toward the crowd behind me. "Every one of you should be working just like Ms. Messenger, and I expect everyone's proposed projects to be ones that will make the kind of difference this one will make."

  I can tell by the way Ryker is watching me that he really is impressed by my observations and my project suggestion.

  Or he's trying to make sure I'm still ready and willing at five p.m. Fat chance!

  "Who's next?" Ryker asks, glancing around and sizing up my competition.

  I don't have to move an inch. I know exactly who's going next.

  "I have a project I'd like to present to you, Ryker," Falan says, exhibiting the air of confidence I've come to expect from her by purposefully using Ryker's first name.

  Like the lovesick puppy he is, Alex speaks up and gives Falan's resume for her. "Mr. Russell, Falan is one of our most talented project managers. Her hospitals are among the best of the best in the country. She works so well with them that they will not let me assign anyone else to their projects. If you talk to them, you will see that she's built relationships with them that are stronger than the ones they have with their own staff."

  I can't help but resent the way Alex is praising her like she's invented the cure for cancer when all she's done is sleep with the right people. As irritating as Alex's adoration of Falan is, I'm unnerved by the way Ryker's name flowed from her lips. I can't help but wonder how familiar they
are with each other.

  Ryker nods his head and at least appears to be carefully taking in all of the information Alex has just given him. "I know exactly who Falan is, Alex. Thank you," Ryker says, flashing Falan one of his panty-dropping smiles.

  My green-eyed monster rears her ugly head, and I glare Ryker's way. He goes out of his way to ignore me by focusing all of his attention on Alex's superstar, Falan, as she begins her very complicated presentation, one that is complete with whiteboard drawings and elaborate hand gestures.

  Ryker's head bounces throughout her presentation exactly the way he'd done during mine. Periodically, he looks away from her and makes a note about something she's said. My green-eyed monster can't miss the interest he has in her project.

  I may not be able to read people like Ryker can, but I can see the writing on the wall. Falan is going to win this competition. She's going to be Ryker's vice president, and she will avail herself to him in the exact same manner that she's made herself available to Alex.

  I'm so caught up in Ryker's reaction to Falan that I completely miss out on the premise of her proposed project. This is a fact I don't realize until everyone—including Ryker—is on their feet, offering Falan her own standing ovation. I don't want it to look like I'm a sore loser, so I follow their lead by standing and clapping.

  Falan is not nearly as self-conscious with attention as I was. She stands in front of the crowd and bows graciously, basking in the spotlight that's suddenly found its way to her. The way Falan commands the room and acts as if she's already been given the promotion reminds me I'm dealing with a master manipulator. She's taking her time and letting Ryker see her as the winner even though she's not officially won.

  Damn! She's good!

  Right before her presentation turns awkward, she makes her way back to her seat. Ryker turns his chair Falan's way.