Chapter 5
All talking stopped when I walked in. Everyone looked at me-a woman in yesterday's wrinkled clothes with smudged makeup, walking into their space. I could see them writing me off before I even spoke. It shook my resolve. I should have tidied up my makeup even a little before confidently entering the room.
Vance sent me a disapproving look regarding my appearance. His cold assessing eyes pinned me to the floor but then he looked away.
"Gentlemen," Vance said, his voice cutting the silence. "This is Nerissa Sullivan, my lead data strategist. She runs our European analytics. She will explain what the Zenith proposal is missing."
He didn't call me a data analyst. He made up a better title on the spot, giving me authority I didn't officially have. It was support. And a challenge.
Harrington's bushy eyebrows went up. "We're short on time, Blackwood. We've seen the cost projections. They're too high."
I didn't wait for Vance. I walked to the front, plugged in my laptop, and showed my first slide. One simple graph.
"The projections you saw use North American models," I said, my voice clear and firm in the big room. It didn't even sound like me. "They assume a forty percent improvement. They're wrong."
A man with glasses made a dismissive sound. "Our models are the standard."
"The standard is five years behind the Scandinavians," I replied, clicking to the next slide-a comparison of energy use. "They started using the core Zenith tech two years ago in Oslo. Their published data shows a seventy-two percent gain. Not forty. Seventy-two."
I pointed to a line on the graph.
"Your models see this big upfront cost here," I said, tapping the screen. "And they stop looking. The Scandinavian data shows this cost happens once. After that"-I clicked to the last slide, a line plunging down-"you get this. A permanent, major drop in running costs. The payback isn't seven years. It's eighteen months."
The room went completely quiet. Harrington leaned forward, his sharp eyes locked on the screen.
"Show me the supplier details. The Oslo setup."
I hadn't prepared that. It was in another file. My heart pounded. This was where I would mess up.
Before I could struggle, Vance spoke from by the window.
"Page seventeen of the packet in front of you, Mr. Harrington. Ms. Sullivan flagged the supplier plan last week. It's why we moved this meeting up."
I hadn't. He was lying. Smoothly, confidently, making it seem like I'd planned ahead.
Harrington flipped to page seventeen. There were yellow highlights. Vance must have had his assistant do it right after he left me in the elevator.
The old man studied the page, then looked from Vance to me. A slow, calculating smile appeared.
"You're not scared of the big cost, are you?"
"No, sir," I said, and I meant it. "I just need to know what comes after. The data shows it's worth it. Not a disaster."
Harrington laughed, a short, pleased sound. He looked at Vance.
"You were right. She gets it." He closed the packet with a slap. "The board meets Monday. I want her on the call. Not your CFO. Her. She explains it properly."
It was over. The decision changed. A rush of pure, clean power, better than any drink, stronger than any tears, went through me. I hadn't just shown data. I'd changed a huge deal.
I stood there for a second, hardly recognizing the woman holding the presentation remote.
Just an hour ago, I'd believed I wasn't enough.
Not enough to keep my husband.
Not enough to be chosen.
Not enough to matter.
Yet a room full of executives had trusted my judgment enough to change a multimillion-dollar decision.
Maybe I had been asking the wrong person to measure my worth all along.
"Thank you, sir," I said, my voice still firm.
Vance gave a single nod. "Ms. Sullivan, we'll talk in my office. Gentlemen."
I gathered my things under their new looks, not dismissive anymore, but curious and respectful. I followed him out. We didn't speak in the hall. The silence between us felt different now. Full of something we'd just done together.
His office was cool, quiet, and had glass walls. He closed the door and turned to me, leaning against his desk.
For a moment, he just looked at me. The professional face was there, but underneath, I saw the man from the elevator. The one who'd held the door open. The one who'd asked Can you do it? like he already knew the answer.
"That," he said finally, "was well done."
It was the best praise I could imagine from him. A small, real smile touched my lips.
"Thank you. For the extra packet."
"A necessary edit. You had the main point. I just... set it up." He crossed his arms. "Harrington's yes means the Zenith merger gets announced next Friday. There's a press event. A party. You'll be there. As the project lead."
The world outside the windows seemed to shift.
"In public?"
"In public. As a professional." He paused, his grey eyes holding mine. "People will notice. The press. The industry." Another pause, on purpose. "Anyone who cares what happens at my company."
By Zane. By Jovi. He didn't say it. He didn't have to.
The cold energy in my chest burned hotter. This wasn't just a promotion. It was a move on a board. A very visible one.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, the question coming out before I could stop it.
He didn't answer right away. He turned and looked out at the city, his back to me.
"Because skill shouldn't be wasted."
His gaze settled on me.
"People confuse being overlooked with being ordinary."
A pause.
"They're not the same thing."
He looked over his shoulder, his profile sharp. "And because I'm tired of losing good people to bad choices."
