what happened. She wasn’t on the rescue site for personal reasons. At my request, she was researching the methods by which InfoTraxion might support the shelter where she volunteers. In honor of Christmas, I intend to seek corporate approval for a charitable contribution to the organization.” That piece of news didn’t stem the fire in Eric’s eyes, not that Mitch expected it to.
“I laude her compassion and empathy, but this presentation is important, and could land a two million dollar project for the firm.”
“I’m aware of the proposal. Congratulations on securing the opportunity.” Eric’s lips curled and he leaned back in his chair, happily preening. The team leader’s self-righteous behavior prompted Mitch’s protective instincts. “I’m also aware of the fact that she’s not being forced to recreate the wheel. She won’t need to execute hours of research and data alignment in order to deliver a top-rate explanation of the infrastructure and processes necessary to build the network Webber Strategic requires. You said so yourself: she can utilize the foundation of a previous playbook. Meanwhile, I have every confidence she’ll flesh out the finer details of the client’s requirement and deliver an excellent product. I don’t see an issue here.” With that, Mitch moved in for a kill-shot. “By the way, was she given adequate prep time?”
Eric leaned back slightly—a retreat of sorts—and his eyes lost a bit of that haughty indignation. “She was given enough notice, yes.”
Sure she was. It was Mitch’s turn to battle against a knowing sneer. “Then my advice would be to leave the project to her. If she fails to follow through, let me know. I’ll handle it.”
The meeting ended but Mitch knew Eric was far from satisfied. Too bad. Mitch knew Tiffany’s history with the company. She had been part of the systems development team for almost three years, proving herself as pro at follow through and an exceptional end product. He had tamped Eric’s fiery crusade for the time being, but sensed the deeper reach of the man’s personal tensions toward Tiffany. Mitch wouldn’t tolerate them for long. Tiffany was quiet to the point of studious—introverted and pleasingly shy. He severely doubted she had earned the show of hostility based on professional capabilities.
His mind’s-eye drew the portrait of a woman with large, dark eyes and a short, straight cap of black hair worn in those soft, tempting type of layers that caught the air when she moved, dancing and shifting like ripples around a fair, heart-shaped face.
Pursing his lips, tilting his chair backward so he could look outside, he contemplated the view of a winter storm on the brew. He ignored the onslaught in favor of his own personal countdown. In one short month—January 1 st to be precise—he’d be back in Los Angeles, and he could leave the snow-cast gloom of the east coast behind in favor of sun, warmth, beaches and incomparable mountain vistas.
He had done his time and earned his spurs on behalf of InfoTraxion. With all due respect to NYC, he couldn’t wait to get back home to California. Meanwhile, the Christmas season was kicking into full swing, and he wanted to encourage philanthropy. Business focused and intent, Mitch returned to his computer and crafted a meeting invite to Tiffany’s e-mail address and clicked send.
2
Tiffany arrived at her desk to a cyber-alert summoning her to a three o’clock meeting with Mitch Alexander. She checked the time on her watch. Forty-five minutes from now.
All jokes about CEO Charming aside, the man intrigued her—and had ever since his arrival at InfoTraxion at the start of the year. She had crossed paths with him just often enough to catch the scent of a polished and confident man who commanded the office but seemed to enjoy engaging with his employees. He had assumed the interim position of regional manager when long-time employee Ted Buckford retired.
In a manner so
“I laude her compassion and empathy, but this presentation is important, and could land a two million dollar project for the firm.”
“I’m aware of the proposal. Congratulations on securing the opportunity.” Eric’s lips curled and he leaned back in his chair, happily preening. The team leader’s self-righteous behavior prompted Mitch’s protective instincts. “I’m also aware of the fact that she’s not being forced to recreate the wheel. She won’t need to execute hours of research and data alignment in order to deliver a top-rate explanation of the infrastructure and processes necessary to build the network Webber Strategic requires. You said so yourself: she can utilize the foundation of a previous playbook. Meanwhile, I have every confidence she’ll flesh out the finer details of the client’s requirement and deliver an excellent product. I don’t see an issue here.” With that, Mitch moved in for a kill-shot. “By the way, was she given adequate prep time?”
Eric leaned back slightly—a retreat of sorts—and his eyes lost a bit of that haughty indignation. “She was given enough notice, yes.”
Sure she was. It was Mitch’s turn to battle against a knowing sneer. “Then my advice would be to leave the project to her. If she fails to follow through, let me know. I’ll handle it.”
The meeting ended but Mitch knew Eric was far from satisfied. Too bad. Mitch knew Tiffany’s history with the company. She had been part of the systems development team for almost three years, proving herself as pro at follow through and an exceptional end product. He had tamped Eric’s fiery crusade for the time being, but sensed the deeper reach of the man’s personal tensions toward Tiffany. Mitch wouldn’t tolerate them for long. Tiffany was quiet to the point of studious—introverted and pleasingly shy. He severely doubted she had earned the show of hostility based on professional capabilities.
His mind’s-eye drew the portrait of a woman with large, dark eyes and a short, straight cap of black hair worn in those soft, tempting type of layers that caught the air when she moved, dancing and shifting like ripples around a fair, heart-shaped face.
Pursing his lips, tilting his chair backward so he could look outside, he contemplated the view of a winter storm on the brew. He ignored the onslaught in favor of his own personal countdown. In one short month—January 1 st to be precise—he’d be back in Los Angeles, and he could leave the snow-cast gloom of the east coast behind in favor of sun, warmth, beaches and incomparable mountain vistas.
He had done his time and earned his spurs on behalf of InfoTraxion. With all due respect to NYC, he couldn’t wait to get back home to California. Meanwhile, the Christmas season was kicking into full swing, and he wanted to encourage philanthropy. Business focused and intent, Mitch returned to his computer and crafted a meeting invite to Tiffany’s e-mail address and clicked send.
2
Tiffany arrived at her desk to a cyber-alert summoning her to a three o’clock meeting with Mitch Alexander. She checked the time on her watch. Forty-five minutes from now.
All jokes about CEO Charming aside, the man intrigued her—and had ever since his arrival at InfoTraxion at the start of the year. She had crossed paths with him just often enough to catch the scent of a polished and confident man who commanded the office but seemed to enjoy engaging with his employees. He had assumed the interim position of regional manager when long-time employee Ted Buckford retired.
In a manner so
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