Breene, K F - Growing Pains 01 by Lost (and) Found (v5.0)

out of date but not hip and vintage, Krista thought Sean was blowing
smoke about a new spin. She hoped the clients didn’t share that view.
    Glasses faced the clients with a
vague look in her eyes, and began talking in a medium-paced monotone. Her voice
barely rose and fell with beginnings and endings of sentences. She might’ve
been making a point, or beginning a new idea—no one knew, because she was so
droning and boring that it was painful to actually listen to her words.
    Sean stepped in immediately, adding
dramatic pauses and a dynamic to the delivery based on when he emphasized her
information. He was the glitter to her club scene. The cross to her savior. He
was the only reason the clients weren’t already leaving.
    The hilarious part was that Glasses
was missing all of this. She stood with the same pose, droning on, seemingly
unaware of her surroundings. She was perfectly still except for her mouth.
Worse, she wasn’t even looking vaguely at the clients anymore, she was
honest-to-God staring out the window, probably wishing she were somewhere else.
It was like she was a film; whenever Sean wanted to interrupt, he pushed pause.
Then, when he hit play again, she seamlessly continued as though no time had
gone by. It was spectacular only because it was so weird. Forget her dress code
choices; she was so far removed from professional Krista wasn’t sure how she
still had a job.
    After an eternity, Glasses stopped
talking. She gave Sean a brief glance, then turned to grab her stuff. That was
it. All done.
    Krista stifled a giggle. So. Weird.
How did Sean deal with these people on a regular basis?
    Next up was Red Suit. Sean carried
her boards and got a grin and thank you for doing so. She stood in front of the
clients, got introduced by Sean just as Glasses had, and started up the
engines. Red Suit—Krista liked that name better than Betty—at least looked at
the clients when she spoke. She wasn’t much better in her delivery, but she
smiled a couple times and shifted every once in a while. Sean still had to
help. He still had to dance around her words and brief pauses, basically giving
the presentation for her.
    If Krista were the client, she
would definitely think this was rinky-dink. She’d say no just because they didn’t
have it together. But these guys were apparently still listening, not bothering
to look at Red Suit, just waiting for Sean to tell them what they needed to
know.
    Too soon it was over. Which
meant…her turn.
    As Sean carried the boards back, he
glanced at her in anticipation, expecting her to head up front. Since she only
had her laptop, and didn’t need help carrying that, she excused herself around
Pink Shoes and headed to the podium where she quickly plugged in her computer
and made sure everything was displayed properly on the large screen behind her.
    Show time!
    Krista exhaled all the wind out of
her body with a half-controlled release of tension. With the small plastic
remote in a white-knuckled grip, she turned to the clients with a smile.
    Sean was off to the side, lazily
leaning back against a cabinet with his legs crossed and arms in a pose of
relaxation. He went from participant to audience. As his gaze slid over her
body, she felt like she should have a pole instead of a laptop. It was disgusting
and discontenting at the same time.
    Trying not to be daunted, she
lifted her chin as she met his eyes, silently asking if he was going to
introduce her. He looked back with a closed-off expression that spoke volumes.
She was on her own.
    So be it.
    Turning to the panel, ignoring the
rising panic of stage fright, she brought up her first slide with a click of
the remote. “Hello, my name is Krista Marshall, and I’ll be walking you through
some numbers and research that support our ideas for this campaign.”
    Besides the guy with his greasy,
black comb-over, there were two other guys. One was average looking with brown,
fluffy hair and stubble on his chin, and the other was older