Cocky S.O.B.

by Vanessa Winters

  “I had to decode one of Damien’s spreadsheets again. I’d give anything to proofread ads instead.”

  Emma laughs. “It’s not as glamorous as it seems. My eyes are starting to cross. So yes, I’m ready to grab lunch. Let’s go to one of the trucks in the park, though. It’s not too bad out today.”

  I opted to wear black pants instead of a skirt today, so I agree to venturing outside. It’s traditional fall weather, but it’s not as cool as it has been all week.

  Emma and I grab tacos from a truck that Emma swears is the best in all of Boston, maybe all of Massachusetts. We find an empty bench facing away from our office building and dig in.

  I take a big bite of my chicken taco and nearly faint. “Oh my God, this is delicious! What’s in it?”

  Emma laughs. “I suppose I should’ve told you that first. Hope you don’t have any allergies.”

  “I don’t, but I’d eat this even if I was allergic.”

  “It’s the pineapple,” Emma explains. “They grill it so it’s sweet. It goes so well with the chicken.”

  “I’m so glad you made me try this,” I say. “I don’t usually like spicy foods, but it’s barely spicy at all.”

  “The magic of pineapple!”

  We both laugh. I chow down on my two chicken tacos and move on to the pork one Emma insisted I try. It’s just as delicious as the chicken, though I think the chicken is my favorite.

  Emma and I chat as we finish our food, spending our full lunch hour out in the park.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” I say as we get up to leave. “Another perk of the job. The view from my last place was just other buildings.”

  “Did you work in Boston proper?”

  I nod. “Yeah, over near MIT. Lots of silver in that area, though if you went to the other side of our building, you could kind of see the harbor.”

  “I’m so glad we have this view. I tend to space out and stare out the windows.”

  “But we face away from the windows.”

  “Sometimes I take my work over to the conference room if it’s not in use. Cameron doesn’t mind, as long as I get it done. We have an internal messaging system, so if he needs me, he can get in touch with me.”

  “I’ll have to see if Jack would be okay with that. I turn around as often as I can, but I’d love a nice view.”

  Emma smiles. “I keep telling Cam they should move our desks, but he says their dad would never approve. Assistant desks should be in front of the office, facing away from their door and towards the elevator. According to Mr. Colter, anyway.”

  “We’ll make it work,” I say. We get to the building and opt for the elevator instead of going up seven flights of stairs. “Thanks for having lunch with me.”

  “Always!” Emma says. “I’m leaving in about an hour for an appointment, so I probably won’t see you for the rest of the day. Text me if you need anything, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

  I give her a quick hug and we escape to our desks.

  Jack pokes his head out of his office when he sees me. “Did you have a nice lunch?”

  “Yeah, I did. Emma took me to the taco truck in the park.”

  “Oh, man. Those tacos are the best. You’re not going to want to eat anything else.”

  I laugh. “You’re right. The chicken ones are my new favorite food.”

  “I should thank Emma. I forgot that truck was out there, and now I have to go get like twelve tacos.”

  “You should do it soon, she’s leaving in an hour.”

  Jack gets a weird look on his face. “Okay, I will.”

  He goes over to her desk and the two laugh before Jack disappears into the elevator. He comes back twenty minutes later with a paper bag filled with tacos. The entire office smells like chicken and pineapple. I’m not mad about it. Emma and I share a look, both laughing.

  An hour later, Emma has left, and I’m bored out of my mind. Jack has me going over more spreadsheets. I never would have expected there could be more spreadsheets after the hundred I’ve already looked at this week. Apparently, there are always more spreadsheets.

  “Hey,” Jack says, emerging from his office. “Can you do me a favor?”

  I push away from my desk, grateful for a new task. Hopefully one that doesn’t involve spreadsheets. “Sure. What’s up?”

  He waves a blue folder. “Cameron and I traded proposals so we could go over each other’s. We’re competing, but we want it to be fair, you know? I don’t want to win because his proposal sucks.”

  I laugh. “That wouldn’t be any fun.”

  “Exactly,” he says. “So, can you bring Cam’s back to him and grab mine? It should be in the purple folder on his desk. Leave the folder, just put his in there. He’s very particular about his folders.”

  That fact doesn’t surprise me one bit. Cameron seems to be particular about everything. It is a bit surprising that, after Cameron accused Jack of stealing, they would share their proposals. Then again, I’m an only child. There’s a lot about sibling relationships that I don’t really understand.

  I grab the folder and head for Cameron’s office. Emma isn’t there, so I knock. The door opens slowly, having not been shut all the way when Cameron last left. He’s not inside, but I see the purple folder Jack was talking about. From inside, I grab the proposal and replace it with Cameron’s. I don’t look at either of them. I’ve already heard about Jack’s and I really don’t care about Cameron’s. I doubt it’s as good as what Jack came up with. There’s no way his idea for moving production to the United States can be outdone by anything Cameron proposes.

  As I’m walking out of the office, I run straight into Cameron. The folder falls to the ground when I reach out my hand to steady myself. It occurs to me a moment too late that I steady myself on Cameron’s hard chest. There’s no doubt in my mind that Cameron spends his free time in the gym.

  “What the hell?” he says. “What were you doing in my office?”

  “I, uh…” I say, my hand still gripping his shirt. I pull it away quickly and wipe my sweaty palm on my pants. “Jack wanted me to grab something.”

  Cameron rolls his eyes. “Next time Jack needs something, you can ask me for it. Don’t go in my office without permission.”

  “The door was open,” I explain. “What I needed was on your desk.”

  Cameron picks up the folder and shoves it into my hands. “Well, now you have it. You can go.”

  So much for his apology yesterday. Cameron is every bit the jerk I thought he was. I march back to my side of the office and pop in through Jack’s open door.

  “Here you go,” I say. “Cameron was not pleased.”

  Jack’s face pales. “What do you mean?”

  “He wasn’t in his office when I got over there, so I went inside and grabbed the proposal. He came back as I was leaving and I ran into him, literally. He was pissed that I went without permission, but I was just giving him back what was his and taking what was yours.”

  “Did you tell him what you were doing?”

  That seems like a weird question, but Jack is probably just making sure Cameron wasn’t too mean to me. “Yeah, I explained you needed something. He didn’t seem to care.”

  “I’m sorry he was so rude to you. My brother isn’t great with people.”

  I’ve noticed, I think, but I don’t say that out loud. They are brothers after all. I may not have siblings, but I have family. I’m allowed to talk crap about them, but if someone else does, all bets are off.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “I can handle Cameron.”

  Jack smiles. “Thanks for this,” he says, holding up the folder. “I hope all goes well with Dad tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure it will!” I say. I head back to my desk and finish up my work for the day. Jack is still in his office when I leave, so I wave to him and make my way down to the parking garage.

  What a strange day it was, but I’ll take this over my last job any day.

  8

  Cameron

&
nbsp; It feels like it’s been a month since Dad announced the CEO competition, but it’s only been a few days. I’m glad Friday has finally come.

  I stare at the folder on my desk. I haven’t touched the proposal since Emma gave it back to me on Wednesday. I should have locked it up, but Jack wouldn’t dare come into my office. It’s off limits to him just as his is off limits to me. Besides, Emma is a great deterrent. She may seem sweet on the outside, but she has fought Jack many times.

  There’s a knock on my door. I used to keep it open all the time, but Jack had an easier time snooping around when I did that. It sucks that the door is solid so I can’t see out. The privacy is nice, but I’d prefer to see the entire office. At least I have a view of the park. In fact, I can see directly down to the bench where Emma and Melody had lunch yesterday. That was a welcome distraction.

  “Come in,” I say. The door opens, revealing my dad on the other side. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Cameron, how are you? Feeling good?”

  I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. “I think you’ll find everything in order, sir.” I hand him the folder.

  “I expect nothing less from you. I’m going to grab Jack’s and take over the conference room for a bit. Make sure no one disturbs me.”

  “You got it. I’ll see you later.”

  I shoot Emma a message, letting her know the conference room is in use. I know she likes going in there to enjoy the view while she works. If it were up to me, I’d move her desk to the open space in front of the windows. Both Jack and my dad think that’s a bad idea for productivity. I think both Emma and Melody would be more productive with a better view. I know staring out at the trees helps me focus sometimes.

  With Dad studying my proposal, there’s nothing else for me to do in terms of the contest. I could start working on my submission for next week, but I should focus on ad campaigns instead. I’m not completely satisfied with what we came up with for fall, and the ad has to go out by next week.

  While some companies drop their pumpkin-flavored fall items as early as July, we’ve always kept our fall line to the actual fall. The new fall flavor, which this year is apple cinnamon pretzels, comes out in mid-October. We want to be out there for all the Halloween parties being thrown. The new winter flavor, which is marshmallow chips, comes out on December first because we try to avoid the holiday rush later in the month. People are buying toys and gifts, not necessarily chips.

  Both are limited, and we only send out one shipment. Once stores run out, they run out. Most are gone within the first week. I’ve found our limited-edition flavors on auction sites for hundreds of dollars a bag.

  “Too many pumpkins,” I mumble to myself. Our marketing team is full of geniuses, but they didn’t get this fall ad right. The commercial is good, focusing on picking apples at an orchard. Even our billboards came out great. They are covered in apples. But this print ad for the papers just isn’t right to me. It’s got too many pumpkins.

  Luckily, the newspapers and magazines do the printing for these ads, so we don’t have to worry about getting them to the printers. The billboards were done months ago, as were the commercials and other print campaigns.

  I call Emma into my office. “Hey, we need to fix the paper ad.”

  She stares at it. “The pumpkins?”

  I nod. “They should be apples. The flavor is apple cinnamon.”

  Emma scrunches her nose. She’s not a fan of the new product, but I love it. The pretzels themselves are apple flavored and then dusted with a light cinnamon sugar. It’s probably my favorite new second-half flavor we’ve ever put out.

  “I’ll go down to design and have them change it, but they won’t be happy. I already made them fix a few typos earlier this week.”

  I cringe. The design team is great at design, but they don’t always proofread. Luckily, I have Emma for that. If she does move to design, I’m going to keep that as one of her duties. If I get the CEO job, that is.

  What if Jack manages to pull something together? My brother has surprised us before. He could have some crazy ideas up his sleeve that he’s never mentioned to anyone.

  I shake away the thought. Jack only cares about numbers and money. He doesn’t want to improve the company unless it means bringing in more cash. Since Dad doesn’t care as much about profit as he does about the company’s image, I shouldn’t be worried. I’ve got this competition in the bag.

  To distract myself from the nervousness, I start to look over the preliminary winter ads. The commercial storyboard includes snowflakes falling that turn out to be marshmallows. I can’t help but laugh. It’s a ridiculous idea, but I like it. It’s the kind of message we want to send.

  Emma knocks a few minutes later. “Design isn’t thrilled, but they agree. They’ll have an apple-filled ad for you by the end of the day.”

  “Thanks, Emma. I appreciate you being on top of things.”

  “Just doing my job, boss,” she says. “Need anything else?”

  “Just what I left on your desk this morning. I’ll message you if something comes up.”

  She nods and heads back out to her desk. I try to focus on the winter ads, but my eyes keep wandering in the direction of the conference room. I can’t actually see anything, but I can feel my dad in there, scrutinizing every word I wrote in my report.

  I need this to be over. I need this whole month to be over. Then I can get on with life as the Snax CEO.

  What if you don’t win? My brain says. No matter how many times I say that’s not possible, I know it is. Jack could win, and I’ll be left to do… what?

  I could find a job in design and marketing somewhere. I have the degrees. The problem is, this is my family’s company. I don’t want a job with anyone else. I want to make a difference here.

  There’s a harsh knock on my door. For a second, I let myself believe it’s Melody. She’s the only person I can think of who would knock like that.

  “Come in,” I call out.

  Dad storms into my office and throws a proposal on my desk. “What the hell is this?”

  I stare at the pages of what is distinctly not my proposal. “I have no idea, Dad.”

  His face turns red with anger. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Cameron?”

  “Dad, what is going on? I don’t know what this is. Is it Jack’s proposal?”

  “Jack’s proposal?” Dad scoffs. “No, Jack gave me a fully thought out, well executed proposal. You’re the one I’m disappointed in.”

  I flip through the pages of the booklet on my desk. It’s the same idea as mine, sourcing production in the US instead of Asia, but it’s completely half-assed. There are handwritten notes in the margins, question marks where there should be costs, and a bunch of blank pages.

  “Dad, this isn’t mine. My proposal had graphics and explanations.”

  “Well, is this your name?” He points to the front page where my name is clearly printed. I hadn’t thought to put my name on my proposal. I figured it would be obvious which one was mine.

  “That’s my name, but this isn’t…”

  He slams the booklet onto my desk. “Stop, Cameron. This is the exact proposal you handed me. I expected more from you, son. You do so well with the board. Did you not have enough time?”

  “It’s not mine!”

  “Enough, Cameron. Jack wins this round. You had similar ideas, but his was fully executed. Yours doesn’t contain a plan of action, just a bunch of random notes that make no sense. It was an easy choice. I expect you to do better next week, Cameron.”

  Dad stomps out of my office, leaving me to stare after him. How the hell did this happen? The proposal in front of me is not the one I gave my dad.

  Emma slowly enters my office. “Hey, boss. What was that about? There was a lot of yelling.”

  I hand her the booklet. “Have you seen this before?”

  She shakes her head. “It looks like one of your old drafts.”

  Her words strike me. It does look like an old draft. In fact,
I’m pretty sure it is an old draft. I started working on this idea about a year ago, but I didn’t have any solid data. I threw away that original plan. Apparently, it had come back to haunt me.

  “I know exactly what happened,” I say, standing up from behind my desk. Emma scurries out of my way, and I make it to Jack’s office in two strides.

  9

  Melody

  Cameron’s face is red. I’ve seen him angry this week, but never this angry.

  “Where the hell is Jack?” he shouts, staring into the empty office. He tries to charge inside, but I stand and put my hands on his chest.

  “He’s out meeting with a potential new buyer,” I explain. “He’ll be back in an hour. You can talk to him then.”

  I keep my voice calm and steady, hoping to defuse the situation. It doesn’t seem to work. Cameron’s blue eyes have been replaced with fire.

  “Convenient that he’s out of the office after FUCKING WITH MY PROPOSAL.”

  “You need to calm. Down.” I push at his chest, moving him backwards. “What are you talking about? No one messed with anyone’s proposal.”

  Cameron’s eyes find the folder on my desk. The same one I had when I left his office yesterday.

  “You,” he says. “It was you! I should’ve known.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He takes a step back and throws his hands in the air. I’m glad it’s just us and Emma up here. Cameron is causing quite the scene. “You helped Jack cheat!”

  My eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

  Cameron laughs, but it’s not a pleasant sound. It’s more like a bitter bark. “Honestly, to stoop this low… I expected it from Jack. I didn’t expect it from his assistant.”

  “Expected what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You switched the proposals!” Cameron yells. “You snagged mine and replaced it with Jack’s so he would win today’s round.”