Mr. Tucker started going through his list, assigning each item to different designers based on seemingly zero information about either the client or his employee. From hours of observing him during these meetings, my best guess was that he picked whomever he noticed first. But other factors I was considering were names he could remember quickly, favorite colors by shirts, favorite colors by ties and Morse code by way of rapidly blinking eyelids.
There was no rhyme or reason to his madness. The same designers that were picked to be Art Directors were chosen to be Brand Identity Developers the next week. He grouped talent together as meticulously as a pig playing the violin. And somehow, we still managed to be the lead marketing firm in the city.
The only good thing that came from the Mother Tucker’s management style is that we had all been forced to diversify. I had joined the company excited to specialize in social media marketing, but thanks to my random assignments, I was also awesome with logos, branding and websites.
“That leads us to our biggest client of the year yet.” Mr. Tucker paused dramatically, priming the room for what we’d all been waiting for. It was only the middle of February, so it wasn’t like he had many clients to compare, but rumors had been floating around the office, making this an already coveted account.
“We’re going to need at least three leads on this one,” Henry Tucker said, dangling the carrot. “So be prepared to share the commission.” He grinned smugly. “With me.”
I wrinkled my nose at the slimy way the words fell out of his mouth. This account was about more than money and commission, there would be a reputation that came with it. This was a way to move up in the ranks and demand respect and become an STS legend.
Sure, money was a thing I would always need, but my aspirations were bigger than the size of my paycheck. If I secured this account, I could be picky about future accounts. I might even capture Mr. Tucker’s attention long enough to get him to remember my name.
“That’s right,” Mr. Tucker crowed, breathing heavily as if it was a concerted effort to sit in his comfortable leather chair. “Black Soul Productions has asked us to revamp their entire platform. They want a new logo, and a new advertising campaign. They want a social media plan. And more. This account could mean very big things for us in the future. Black Soul has an extensive client list of their own. If we do a good job with this one, we could see residual accounts for years to come. Obviously, I’ve asked Henry to take the lead on this one. I trust his vision and leadership to handle such an important account.” Father and son shared an allied smile. “Why don’t you round out your team, Son? Nothing but the best for this one.”
Black Soul Productions was a local record label that had recently signed some breakout artists. When rumors had started surfacing that they wanted to update their look and expand their presence, I had done my research. They had a strong list of B-list clients and with their latest signings had the potential to become a nationally respected brand. Their social media presence would be everything. If I could get on that team and create a sustainable social strategy, they would be unstoppable. It was definitely a big task, but so worth the effort.
“Thanks, Dad. And don’t you worry about this account. I’ll take care of everything.” Henry’s eyes scanned the room, jumping from one designer to the next, all the way around the table. I held back a squeak of anticipation. At least I could trust Tucker Senior to pick at random, thereby freeing me of disappointment when I wasn’t chosen. Junior was a different story.
For some unsubstantiated reason, Henry thought of himself as a ladies’ man, and therefore acted as though he were God’s greatest gift to women. To my knowledge he didn’t succeed very often, but his lack of success did nothing to dampen his confidence. Which was saying something since he was the second highest paid employee and set to one day take over the marketing empire his dad had built for him.
He wasn’t even terrible looking. He used more hair product than I would have encouraged, giving him a slightly greasy appearance. And the gold chain necklace tucked beneath his performance polo wasn’t exactly the height of men’s fashion. But his teeth were decent, and he worked out.
There was just something about him that wasn’t appealing. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but I knew enough to duck under his arm and slip out the back staircase when he’d drunkenly cornered me at our office Christmas party. And I wasn’t exactly in a position to turn down men. My last date had been four waxes ago.
Henry’s gaze lingered on Catherine Dawes, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with Photoshop-like curves and Madmen vintage style to accentuate them. He stared appreciatively at her for a long time, before deciding better of it.
She was by far the prettiest woman in the office. But she was also a ballbuster, and I doubted she’d put up with any shit from Henry, no matter how special his dad said he was.
The tension in the room heightened, twisting and pulling, threatening to snap at any second. We all wanted to be chosen. We all wanted it badly.
There wasn’t a person in this room that wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to be on this team, even if we did have to work with Junior.
“Ethan,” Henry decided, surprising us all. Ethan Baker was at least ten years older than me and had a wife and a couple kids. The entire room jolted in surprise. It wasn’t that Ethan was a bad designer, he was probably the best in the office at brand development, but we were all surprised Henry had been able to ignore the temptation to surround himself with hot girls. “I want you to take point on branding. Are you up for the task?”
Ethan smiled confidently at him. “Absolutely.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair. “I actually heard a rumor about this account earlier in the week and I’ve been playing around with ideas if you’d like to see what I’ve come up wi—”
Cutting Ethan off abruptly, Henry smiled, flashing unnaturally white teeth, and said, “I would. Later.”
Henry’s gaze moved back to the conference table, enjoying every second of lording his power over us.
I held my breath and waited to be passed over. I vaguely realized I’d started to click my pen obnoxiously thanks to the nervous anticipation coursing through my blood like a rabid rabbit.
I forced myself to smile serenely and look as grown-up as possible. I wanted this account more than anything. I had been secretly preparing for it since I first heard the rumor that it was a possibility. This project was exactly up my alley of expertise. Black Soul would need someone with a strong social media game. They would need someone that could identify with a younger crowd and bring them into the tech-savvy internet world. They needed someone that understood filters, and search engines. And the seven seconds window of time people devoted to new information.