The Labyrinth Campaign Read Free Page B

don’t! We’ve got dinner plans.”
    Jack feigned disappointment, grabbed his keys, and said, “Let’s go. We’re already looking at an hour wait at this time on a Friday night.”
    As the couple drove down Mercedes Street with the top down, the warm wind blowing through their hair, Carrie asked, “Did you get Allen’s voicemail?”
    “Yeah, can you believe we made the finals?”
    The instant he said it, he wished he could take it back. Carrie was the new-business director at WPC, and his comment, while just intended as conversation, probably hit her like a slap in the face. “Hey,” Jack said, “that didn’t sound like I meant it to. You’re the best new-business person in town, and I actually would have been shocked if we hadn’t made it to the finals.”
    Carrie smiled and stroked Jack’s hair. “Thanks, I needed that.”
    As Jack and Carrie drove down Greenville Avenue heading for The Grape, traffic began to slow. Lines were already out the door at many of the restaurants and bars.
    As Jack wheeled into the valet alley at The Grape, Jeff, the regular attendant, called out, “Jack! Haven’t seen you in a while.”
    Jeff opened the door for Carrie, walked to the front of the car, and high-fived the parking stub into Jack’s hand.
    The couple entered the restaurant. It was like stepping into a bistro in Paris: wine bar on the right, small, intimate dining room on the left. Mark, the manager, greeted Jack with a hearty handshake and Carrie with a hug.
    Mark said, “I’ll do my best, but it’s probably going to be a half an hour.”
    “No problem, man,” Jack responded. “We’ll be at the bar.” They found two seats at the end of the five-seat bar and settled in. When their drinks came, Carrie proposed a toast. “To the night of the black belt.”
    Jack responded with, “To winning GenSquare.”
    They both smiled and drank. When Mark wandered by, Jack told him that they had decided to eat at the bar. After they ordered, a discussion regarding GenSquare began.
    “If we win the account, Allen is going to assign you as managing partner,” Carrie said.
    “I know. And normally I’d view a new account of this size the same way I’d view a prison sentence. But this one’s different,” Jack confided. “First of all, I think their vision for a new software delivery system is brilliant. And, while I’m not overly political, the opportunity to work with the Hawkins family and the chance to meet Senator Will Hawkins is intriguing.”
    “Really? What’s so intriguing about a rich, playboy, third-generation Democrat who bought his way into the Senate?”
    Jack laughed. “Boy, aren’t our Republican feathers ruffled!”
    “No, really, Jack. What’s so intriguing about Will Hawkins?”
    Jack launched into a five-minute monologue. He told Carrie in detail about the night in college when he lost his best friend, Charlie, and told her how on that fateful night, his views on drugs and all things environmental were forever established. Carrie had never seen passion like this from Jack. But at that moment, she felt connected to him. In fact, she realized she was in love with him.
    When they went back to Jack’s place that evening, they made passionate love. They had celebrated their successes together; they had shared intimate details of their lives with each other, and their feelings for each other were cemented. They knew this relationship was something very deep and very special.

four
    T he next morning Jack and Carrie drove into the office together. Though they hadn’t gotten much sleep, they were energized by the feelings that had grown between them last night, as well as the challenge of the GenSquare pitch ahead of them. As they pulled into the parking lot of the opulent building that housed WPC corporate headquarters, it felt like any other workday. But it was Saturday, and there were few cars in the parking lot.
    On rare occasions like this, Jack felt amazed that he had made it this far in the