Red Writing Hood: The Presentation

“Shit. Shit! SHIT!”

Amy frantically threw open drawers and moved around piles of files on her desk. Loose papers perched precariously on top of various stacks began to shift and fall, fluttering down like oversized snowflakes. She could not believe this was happening. Her first real opportunity to show the higher level executives what she was capable of and she couldn’t find her presentation.

Her cubicle looked like a tornado had ripped through it. She had looked in every file cabinet, every desk drawer, on every shelf. Nothing. She could feel the frustration building up, threatening to erupt into a cascade of angry tears. She hated how her emotions always ruled her. She tried so hard to keep everything bottled up, at least at work, so they wouldn’t have yet another piece of ammunition to use against her.

Think, Amy. Think

In a flash of brilliance, Amy remembered she’d saved the report on a USB drive so she could work on it at home. Quickly she grabbed her purse and upended it on the desk.

Items scattered all over the surface of her plain grey workstation. A pen, a lone earring, a pack of gum, and a small tube of chapstick tumbled towards the far edge. Her wallet bounced once and disappeared over the edge of the desk. Her phone clattered against the lamp and the screen flickered alive to show the wallpaper, a long ago vacation picture from Mexico with her best friend from college. Amy quickly scanned the remaining items: a small hairbrush, some dental floss, coupons for her local grocery store, a couple of hair elastics…but no USB drive.

“Noooooooooo!” she moaned and slumped into her chair.

“Something wrong, Amy?” a friendly voice asked from the doorway. Amy looked up and mentally screamed at Fate. She could deal with anyone in this department except Abigail Lawrence. Of all the office bullies, Abigail was the worst. She would appear to be friendly and helpful whenever it suited her but behind the scenes she made Amy’s life a living hell.

“Uhm, no Abigail. I’m fine, thanks, “Amy mumbled and turned herself away so she could try to compose her face. She needed to remain calm. She could pull off the presentation without her written report as long as she didn’t look like she was about to burst into tears. She straightened her shoulders and tried to look like she was a capable, confident woman instead of a small, insecure child. Abigail always brought out the worst in her.

“Alright, then. You better hurry. The meeting starts in 5 minutes, “Abigail said with false friendliness. Her voice oozed with underlying contempt. She started to walk away and then turned back.

“Good luck with your presentation. Isn’t it wonderful they are letting lower level staff take a stab at this campaign? “ She held up a folder, “I’m so nervous about giving my idea. I hope I don’t screw up.”

Amy stared at Abigail, all sense of composure draining away. She had to present at the same meeting as Abigail? Could this day get any worse? She forced a smile and waved Abigail away. As soon as she was gone, Amy collapsed into her chair again. She wanted to cry.

After a moment she stood up and grabbed a random folder off her desk. She had to at least appear like she was prepared for this meeting. A small group of people were moving down the hall towards the large boardroom so Amy joined the tail end and tried to act like she belonged.

The boardroom had standing room only by the time Amy arrived. She hadn’t realized how many people would be attending. It was a rare occurrence that anyone who worked in Corporate Accounts would be allowed to present on new campaign pitches. Usually it was just the Managers of various teams who did the pitches and if a particular one was chosen by the Executive that team was then responsible for putting the campaign together for the client pitch.

This new potential client was a bit of an enigma. They were a relatively new company and were trying to hook a younger demographic. The Executives thought bringing in some new, fresh ideas was the way to go to ensure the firm secured the account. In their mind new and fresh meant young so all the younger, relatively inexperienced members of the various advertising teams were offered the chance to present. Impressing the Executive team would almost certainly clinch a promotion in the near future.

Amy positioned herself along the back wall so she could easily see the front of the room and all the other presentations. Each person who had shown interest in competing would be given five minutes to make their presentation and then five minutes to clarify and answer any questions brought up by the Executive team. Amy wondered who would be going first. She hoped it wouldn’t be her. The butterflies in her stomach were threatening to bring a swift and embarrassing end to her day. She really didn’t need the stigma of being the employee who fainted or threw up under pressure added to an already growing list of perceived faults.

The first presenter was called up, a young man Amy barely knew. She tried to listen but fears over her own presentation dominated her thoughts. She ran through her main points in her head, trying to ensure she covered each aspect of her pitch in clear detail and eliminate the need for many questions. If she’d had her report she wouldn’t have been so concerned but she feared forgetting important details.

Two more people went up and gave their presentations and then she heard a voice call,

“Abigail Lawrence?”

Amy’s attention sharpened as she watched Abigail make her way to the front of the room. As usual she used her feminine charms to ensure all attention was on her. She saw numerous instances of Abigail “accidentally” laying a hand gently on a senior executive’s shoulder as she walked past resulting in the executive to smile approvingly at her. Amy made a small sound of disgust deep in her throat. She had hoped that hard work and intelligent contributions were what the executive’s wanted to see from employees, not blatant sexual innuendo.

Abigail took her position and launched into her campaign idea. After a moment Amy felt herself feel weak. Abigail was presenting her campaign idea, almost word for word! She’d stolen her idea. Confusion and anger swirled around with the thoughts in Amy’s head. How? When? She tried to shake her mind clear so she could figure out what to do. Confront her in front of everyone? Disappear from the meeting and deal with Abigail privately? Amy felt herself go a little weak in the knees. This new revelation brought the nausea back full force and she feared she would pass out.

A man standing next to her noticed Amy’s emotional rollercoaster as it flashed across her face; every thought she was having was broadcast to the room, should the attendees care to pay attention.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Worry creased his forehead. Amy didn’t know him very well but he was well liked by many of her colleagues. His pale gray eyes were filled with compassion and concern. She tried to get a coherent sentence out. Her stomach tossed about like a sailboat caught in a storm. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she felt herself gag slightly.

“She…I…not sure…ohhhh, I think I’m going to…” Amy felt herself collapse into oblivion to the sound of applause. Abigail had finished her presentation.

****

This week’s Red Writing Hood prompt is from NaNoWriMo Prompts, a blog dedicated solely to National Novel Writing Month.

Here’s your prompt:

“Your protagonist empties the contents of his/her pockets, purse, and/or backpack onto a table. What all was dumped onto the table?”

But, we’re going to ask for more than a list of contents…this is merely a jumping off point.

While not all of you are taking part in NaNoWriMo this time around, this prompt will work beautifully for fiction and non-fiction. Don’t have a character? Empty your own purse and tell us what’s in it and why.

You might recognize some familiar characters. I’m having a lot of fun fleshing out Amy’s story and thought I’d use the prompt to write another piece of the puzzle. Go here and here to read the first 2 excepts I wrote.