Episode Fifty-Two
Rainer’s [POV]
Tasha skewered me with a look.
“GroGreen is meant to be much more than a game.” Frankie flipped back through his packet.
“The virtual gardening tool went over huge with the beta testers. The top words used were realistic, beautiful, and authentic.” The meeting erupted into a flurry of disagreements and side conversations.
The CFO stepped back and let the team hash out new ideas. He knew something we did not.
“Have you been in a garden lately?” Tasha asked me.
“It’s not supposed to be about control.”
“What about farmers, and those crazy people who create amazing hybrid roses? It seems like gardening is, at its root, about controlling Mother Nature,” I said.
“Oh, shit, that’s good,” Frankie said. He sent out another flurry of messages. Tasha raked her dark-brown eyes over me again.
“I shouldn’t be surprised that you missed the point of GroGreen entirely. I mean, this is the first time you’ve worked on it.” I caught her arm before Tasha could turn away in a huff.
“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. Today’s comment at the press conference was off-the-cuff, and I should have run it past you first.” She looked at my hand on her suit coat sleeve and then up at me.
“So, even you get nervous on camera?” Tasha asked. Her eyes softened, and I felt my insides melting to molten lava.
“I don’t get nervous on camera,” I said, “but I am out of practice working on a team.”
“Well, you’re on one now,” Tasha said, “and you better get used to it if you want to go any further.”
My throat tightened as thoughts of how far I wanted to go with her flashed through my head. I cleared my throat.
“Maybe the line about Mother Nature respecting us could use a little more thought.” The meeting quieted down, and all eyes turned back toward Tasha and me.
“Rainer’s comment focused on only one aspect of our app, and we need to make sure we introduce consumers to all of the amazing things GroGreen can do,” Tasha said.
My hand was still on her sleeve, so I felt her go rigid when Frankie called out.
“Sorry, it’s already all over social media.”
“Take it back,” I said. I reluctantly pried my hand from Tasha’s arm and turned to face Frankie.
“I know you can delete a post.” “It’s already gotten over five hundred hits,” Frankie said. He tapped the thick packet.
“That’s outpacing the majority of our top posts by twenty hits per minute.” I didn’t dare look back at Tasha, but I could feel her tension.
Being near her was like sitting next to a generator: I could practically hear the gears churning in her head.
The CFO took control of the meeting again, and everyone turned back to the packet.
I fought the urge to break Frankie’s phone because it lit up and flashed every time he got a new notification.
Other team members were watching their media too, and it was hard to bring the full attention of the meeting back to the review. I sat up and leaned shoulder to shoulder with Tasha.
“Don’t worry. They say any press is good press, right?”
“For reality stars and celebrities, maybe,” Tasha snapped.
“For technology, especially apps like GroGreen, one misstep could mean a sharp decline in sales.” I looked around at all the flashing phones.
“Do you think this looks like a decline in sales?” I asked.
Tasha ignored me and turned the page, following along as another chart was explained.
I patted my suit coat in a futile search for a pen.
Topher leaned forward and laid one on my shoulder. I took it and thanked him with a nod.
Then I leaned forward again and scribbled ‘I’m sorry’ on the corner of Tasha’s packet.
She tried to brush it off as if it was a dirty smudge.
I put an elbow on the conference room table and whispered to her behind my hand.
“I am. I shouldn’t have spoken without your support. I know that’s not how teams work and I’m sorry.” She shoved my elbow off the table.
“Stop whispering to me. I don’t even know you, and I’m trying to concentrate.”
Tasha was concentrating so hard she didn’t see the interest our little exchanges were garnering.
It didn’t matter if the lower floor boys were placing bets on us; people could see there was something between us.
Now, I just had to convince Tasha it was more than workplace competition and irritation.
I was attracted to her, she inspired me to work, and everyone knew that opposites often forged great teams.
This little app of hers was fast becoming the best thing I had ever worked on, and I hadn’t even downloaded the thing myself.
If I played my cards right, this project would pay off, and no one would have to know the real reason I joined the team.
Now, I was certain that I had felt something when we danced at the holiday party. I knew because the same crackling fireworks were back in my stomach.
And I still couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“All right, folks, that concludes the review. I’m going to ask that everyone except junior executives and department managers leave at this time. You will hear more later when you have your separate department meetings,” the CFO said.
The conference table erupted as the majority of people stood up to leave. I spun around in my chair and nodded to Topher.
“That means you too. Don’t worry; I’ll catch you up later.” Topher was ready to argue, but Tasha cut him off.
“If you have somewhere else to be, like a lunch meeting, I can just send your assistant my notes.” I saw the flash of ambition in Topher’s eyes.
“Ms. Nichols, I noticed your assistant is not here. If you’d like me to stay and take the notes for you, I’d be more than happy.”
“Oh, no,” I said.
“No one’s poaching my assistant. That’s not very team-like.” Tasha caught the arch of my foot with her heel as she turned around.
“Thank you,” she said to Topher, “but I’ve had this handled from the beginning.
I’ve got it from here.” She expected me to get up and leave with the crowd, but I stayed put.
“Are you a big gardener, Ms. Nichols?” I asked her. Sadness flickered across her face and was gone.
“My family had a large garden. One of my first chores was to weed it.” I waited for her to return the question, but Tasha swiveled back to the conference table.
I kept the conversation going anyway.
“The best I ever did was sprouting seeds in old soup cans. I think it was a Mother’s Day project at school or something.” Tasha glanced over her shoulder.
“You don’t look like the gardening type,” she said.
“Are you kidding? I would love a garden.” I had her attention now.
“Some days it feels like all we do is send emails out into the ether, watch posts on little screens, and type documents that never get printed. Getting my hands dirty, growing something from seed, that would feel almost like a cure.”
“For some reason, I picture you gardening in your tailored suit,” Tasha said. Her smile sneaked out.
“Maybe with a big floppy sunhat.”
“Laugh all you want,” I said, “but you can’t tell me the hands-on aspect of gardening isn’t the most appealing part of it. Don’t you want to produce something solid? Grow something real?” Tasha’s expression cooled.
“This is real. I’ve grown this product from the very first brainstorming session.”
“Did your family ever grow little cherry tomatoes? Or strawberries? I always loved the idea of walking through a garden and being able to taste what I helped grow,” I said. The smile returned, tentatively.
“My favorite was chives,” Tasha said. “I loved chewing on them while I was out in the yard.”
“And fresh herbs for cooking? Can you imagine how great that would be?” I asked. Tasha grinned.
“You might be the target demographic we were going for first-time gardeners who have the desire and just need a little help.” The fireworks in my stomach were heating up.
“And what about you? Don’t you want to create something you can harvest? I mean, something you can hold in your hands?”
“Fine. I’ll admit that aspect of gardening appeals to me.” Tasha had turned her chair towards me, but she snapped back when she realized the others in the room were listening.
The meeting was down to only six of us, two junior executives, and the four department managers. I was sure that I would be asked to leave and I shifted to the edge of my office chair when the CFO shut the door.
“Now that I have the core team here, I feel that I should warn you: what I’m going to say next is going to be a shock,” he said.
It seemed to take forever for him to walk back to his place at the head of the long conference table.
“The reports all look favorable so far, sir,” Tasha said.
“I’m sure once we focus our media strategy, the sales will meet our expectations.” The CFO nodded but scrubbed a hand hard over his mouth.
“I’m not sure you’re getting my drift, Ms. Nichols,” he said.
“Sir, there are a lot of people who worked very hard on this app. They sacrificed time with their families, and everything so we could make the best possible product. Please consider them before you give us the axe.”
Tasha’s hand was out on the table, near mine, as if unconsciously seeking support.
“She’s right about the reports, sir,” I said.
“The buzz has been considerable, and I’m sure the sales will take off.” “Now, you I can understand, Rainer,” the CFO said.
“You were at the product launch party until the wee hours of the morning and spent the rest of the night God knows where. But you, Ms. Nichols. I’m surprised. Do you have no idea what’s happened with GroGreen?” Tasha pressed her hand harder on the conference table.
“I do, sir. I’ve watched it like a hawk since our first meetings. I don’t understand why you don’t think it will succeed. I can prove it to you.”
The CFO held up both hands to ward off another pie chart. Then his expression broke and a surprising peal of laughter burst out.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.
“Ms. Nichols, please, I respect your ardor, but you need to listen. I’m trying to give you good news.”
“Good news?” Tasha asked, confused.
“GroGreen has far outreached our wildest expectations. Sales reached astronomical numbers late this morning. We are strategizing how this success will affect your team members, but as junior executives, you are automatically shareholders.” I leaned forward and caught Tasha’s hand in mine.
“We’re automatic shareholders in a runaway success?” I asked the CFO “That is good news.” He laughed again.
“More than that, Rainer. You and Tasha just made billions.”