Eat The Rich (bxb)

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Chapter Ten

MICAH BLEU



Turning up at Weston's office early was making me shake with nerves, I didn't want to particularly be stuck alone with him but I didn't want to let Theo down. He believed in me and went out of his way to tell Weston how well I did at the fundraiser, for someone to do that, they must value your work.

Knocking at Weston's office door, a small mumble comes from the other side. I pop the door open and notice how Weston is stood with his phone raised to his ear, he beckons me in before holding up one finger and I nod. Quietly shutting the door behind me and shrugging off my jacket.

Weston paces behind his desk, occasionally humming as a response. One hand dug into his trouser pocket, light blue shirt rolled up to his elbows with his top button undone. His eyes are set forward, a slight frown on his face. Never have I noticed how sharp his jaw line was, or maybe it was his neatly trimmed beard.

I perch on the edge of one of his chairs and dig through my bag for my cluster of notes from the fundraiser.

"Right, okay. Thanks Simon." Weston says loudly before cutting off his call.

Glancing up at him as he throws his phone down onto his desk, the sound causing me to jump slightly. "Good morning," I say politely.

"Morning," he says eventually before rubbing his forehead. "Sorry Micah, I completely forgot about you coming this morning." He sounded overly stressed and I didn't want to get in the way of it.

"Oh," I let out and shake my head. "Don't worry about it, we can rearrange?"

Trying to gather my belongings without feeling like an utter idiot. "No, no," Weston steps forward and holds up his hand. "It's fine, I'll just push back a call."

My eyes flicker slowly between his, clearly sensing his distress from the phone call. "Okay," I say as I pop open my plastic folder.

Weston watches my moves before picking up his phone and tapping away at the screen. "Right," he sighs. "Show me what you planned for Blanc."

He sits down in his chair and scoots closer to his desk. "So these are the statistics I collated," I say as I pull out a sheet of numbers.

Sliding it across his wooden desk, he takes it with his finger. "I took the production rate in each county instead of production rate for the whole of the population. Specifically collecting the younger demographic statistics and comparing it to other recent technology releases."

Weston's eyes glide over the paper, he doesn't speak for a moment before peaking up at me. "And what does it look like in presentation form?" He questions.

"Well I found it hard to even break down these statistics to understand them," I say before pulling out a notepad and opening it in front of him. "So I made these charts, comparing Huddle 2.0 to other software technology. The increased use in different counties and the demographics using them."

"Which then helps us to understand what institutions are using them because of its easy accessibility and simplicity."

Weston flicks through my notepad, taking long glances at my charts and diagrams. "It wasn't anything special, I just wanted to show the growth of Huddle compared to different software. It's not hard to understand why it is so popular."

Time passes and Weston doesn't say a word, I gulp quietly and lean back in the chair. Waiting patiently for his thoughts, whenever they may be.

"I like these," he says, catching me by surprise.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I like these a lot. I like the design and the breakdown, I like the future probability too. It's initiative and advanced. Nothing about this is simple Micah, this is seriously good." Weston nods continuously as he looks between the pages of my notebook.

My heart stops for a moment and I can't even begin to think about formulating words. Praise is an amazing feeling, especially when you know you've worked hard on something.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," I say gratefully.

"Of course there are a few things that would need tweaking for another future pitch but nothing drastic." Weston eventually looks up at me, his eyes warm and inviting.

"I can change whatever you need to make it better," I say as I clasp my hands together.

"You said you're not great at public speaking?" Weston questions as he flicks his thumb over his lips slowly.

I avert my gaze from his lips to his eyes, praying to god that he didn't see me looking. "I'm not the best at it, the numbers throw me off sometimes."

"So how do you feel about doing a presentation?"

"Well when I was at university I forced myself to join the public speaking society to get better at it. I did a few speeches and it was hard but I got through it. The only difference is that this is important, talking about Stephen King is not." I exhale, not realising how long I had just spoke for.

Weston leans forward in his desk and onto his forearms. "You joined the public speaking society?" He arches an eyebrow.

I look to my eight quickly before back to his eyes. "Yeah I did," I say. "You've got to combat your weaknesses somehow."

His eyes widen as he leans back in his chair. "I mean there's taking your fears by the horns and there's that."

"Yeah I know it sounds stupid," I rush, my head shaking in the process.

"It's not stupid," Weston says instantly. "If anything it's impressive."

I didn't want my cheeks to heat up but I could guess that they were already halfway there.

"If I arrange a close group meeting with some of our best clients next week, will you present these along side myself?" He questions as he taps the screen on his phone.

"Yeah sure," I nod quickly.

"Then if you are up for it, you might be able to help with the big pitch we are planning next month." He says as he hands me back my notepad.

"Let's take one step at a time," I laugh briefly. "You might hate me at the presentation."

"I doubt it,"

My lips part ever so slightly and I take a short breath. "Well thanks for taking me on for this," I smile.

"Hard work always pays off," Weston tilts his head. "Thanks for coming this morning Micah but I need to make a call. Can you email me over all the presentations and I'll talk you though what we could change?"

I hum and stand up quickly, struggling to catch the folder in my hands. "Yeah sure," I say as I grab my bag from the floor.

Weston doesn't look back at me instead his eyes are darted at his phone, typing away. I shuffle my feet towards the door. "Thanks Weston," I say quietly but I'm sure he doesn't hear me because he turns his back to me and stares out of his window.

Well that wasn't what I was expecting.




. . .



It was the day before our meeting with Weston's clients and I was crapping my pants. I had been over and over the presentation more times than I've had hot dinners, there was no way I would make a tit out of myself in front of him.

Weston had corrected some points on my previous presentation and together we created something better. Occasionally he'd call me into his office to discuss but no longer than ten minutes at a time, Weston was sure it would go down well but I was panicking. What if I said something stupid, what if I cannot pronounce the numbers in a professional manner?

I am representing his company beside him, they are expecting nothing but the best. It was approaching the end of the day and I wanted nothing more than to go home and read up my notes in time for tomorrow.

"Micah?" Theo calls from across the desk. "You okay?"

He looked concerned and as he catches my attention, I take a breath. "Yeah, why?"

"You've just not said anything for a while," he comments before pressing his black pen into the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry," I say quickly. "Just been thinking about the client meeting tomorrow, that's all,"

Abi swivels in her chair and looks at me. "You're so lucky," she gushes.

"Shut the fuck up Abi," Theo groans like she was a broken record. I can confirm, she is.

"Weston's never taken me along with him for a client meeting," she rolls her eyes like a spoilt child before tapping away at her keyboard.

"That's because Micah has fresh ideas,"

Abi mimics him and slumps onto the palm of her hand, her eyes looking directly at her computer screen.

"Does he do that a lot?" I ask.

Theo looks back at me, confused by my question. "What?"

"Does he take newbies on presentations for their ideas?"

He hums in response. "Yeah sometimes, he likes new perspectives. And he likes to know who he can trust early on in their employment and how you can benefit the company."

"I see, I see,"

"Don't sweat it," Theo says causally. "I'm sure it'll be great. Weston will be there to help if anything goes sour."

"I'll bear that in mind," I force a half smile towards him.

Theo holds his hands up instantly. "Not saying it's going to go sour but having Weston anywhere is a blessing, he can save any situation. And I mean any situation."

"When's the meeting?" Abi asks from beside me.

"Not till the evening, he's taking them out for a dinner." I tell her. "So there will be no PowerPoint or flash cards to read off, just my mind."

"Damn," Abi's eyes gleam wide. "You must be a genius to do that. I can't even remember what I had for dinner last night."

Theo snorts at her comment. "And that's the exact reason why Weston doesn't want you at one of his client meetings," he slams his hand down onto the desk and laughs.

"Whatever," she scowls across at him.

"I can't wait to hear all about it," Theo nods towards me. "I'm sure it's going to go well."

"Fingers crossed,"

"Well I'll see you tomorrow before anyway, if you want a trial run at lunch or something, I'm all ears," he offers as he grabs his bag and throws in his metal water bottle.

"You sure?" My voice raises slightly.

"Sure," he tells me. "If it will help you keep your nerves at bay, I'll give you some pointers. If you even need them that is."

My shoulders release from a breath that I didn't know I was holding. "Thanks Theo, that's honestly calmed me a lot,"

"It's all good, that's what work friends are for," he says as he pushes his chair out from underneath him. "Make sure you get some sleep and not staying up all night doing that presentation."

I laugh shortly. "No promises,"

Because that was exactly what I would not be doing.
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