Chapter 2 - THE SHOCK IN THE BOARDROOM AND THE WEIGHT OF GRAY EYES
The air in the grand tenth-floor conference room seemed to vanish completely.
My lungs refused to expand.
My heels felt glued to the imported Italian marble floor.
Alexander Sterling sat at the head of the massive table like a modern king presiding over his court.
The junior executives and department heads seated around him turned their heads in unison,
looking from Alexander to me with thinly veiled curiosity.
They had undoubtedly noticed the subtle,
amused spark in their notoriously ruthless CEO's eyes.
“Miss Vance,
” Alexander spoke first,
his deep,
resonant voice cutting through the heavy silence.
“We have been reviewing your portfolio for the senior financial analyst position.
”
I swallowed hard,
forcing my trembling hands to steady against the leather binder holding my presentation notes.
“Thank you,
Mr.
Sterling,
” I managed to say,
cringing internally as my voice wobbled just a fraction.
“Please,
take a seat,
” he motioned toward the empty chair directly facing the head of the table.
It was the worst possible placement.
Every time I looked up to address the panel,
I would be forced to stare directly into the eyes of the man who had held me while I wept over a worthless ex-boyfriend.
I walked forward with forced dignity,
pulling out the heavy velvet-cushioned chair and sitting down.
My mind raced through a frantic loop of embarrassing memories.
The mascara stains.
The sniffling.
My sarcastic remark about his hugging skills.
Yet Alexander's expression remained completely unreadable,
save for that lingering trace of quiet intrigue.
“Whenever you are ready,
Miss Vance,
” he prompted,
resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.
I opened my binder,
cleared my throat,
and began projecting my voice across the expansive room.
For the first five minutes,
my nerves threatened to betray me.
My palms were slick with nervous sweat,
and my thoughts felt scattered like leaves in a gale.
Then instinct kicked in.
Financial modeling was my sanctuary.
Numbers did not lie.
Data did not betray you via a forty-second voice message.
As I dove deeper into my market analysis and risk assessment for Sterling Capital's upcoming European acquisitions,
my voice grew steady,
clear,
and commanding.
I noticed Alexander leaning back slightly in his leather chair.
His gray eyes never once left my face.
He watched the way I gestured,
listened intently to how I defended my projected revenue models against potential market downturns,
and absorbed every syllable with razor-sharp focus.
The other executives began nodding in agreement,
scribbling notes into their leather-bound pads.
When I finally reached my concluding slide,
a quiet hush fell over the room once more.
“That concludes my presentation,
” I said,
closing my binder with a soft click.
May you like
“Thank you for your time.
”
