I watched raptly as he reached into his inner breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a gold pocket watch. It was attached to a long gold chain, the type that older men used to wear back in the day. What caliber of man is he to sport such an antiquated accessory and make it look so damn hot? I couldn’t help but notice his long fingers, immediately feeling perverted for wondering what they’d feel like against my skin. They were nicely manicured yet Azmir Jacobs didn’t strike me as a metrosexual type of man. He quickly glanced at the time as though it was important to him before stowing the watch back inside of his jacket. This wasn’t looking good for me.
John Ephart kicked off our pitch by introducing the Smith, Katz & Adams staff and explained that I’d be responsible for presenting the proposal. Once he was done, the floor was mine. After taking a deep breath, I decided to let it rip. I stood and passed out the proposal packets that included the history and relevant facts of the practice, our mission and vision statements. Although all the information was in the packets, I elaborated on the important information. I went to the head of the room where the easel was to mount my chart and talked about why this location would not only benefit the practice, but the rec center as well. The basis of my proposal was how the two entities could work in concert to drive revenue. I explained that according to my research there were a number of athletes who frequented the center off season, among other celebrities, and named a few. I continued by stating the possibility of the recreation center, with the help of the practice, being a one-stop-shop for his professional athletic clientele.
Somewhere mid my presentation, Azmir Jacobs gave me a magnetic gaze that was so intense, so electrifying, nearly throwing me off my game. I felt a little awkward but tried not to let it interrupt my performance. I continued by complimenting Mr. Jacobs’ vision and development of the recreation center and commented on his proficient staff. I gave him direct eye contact. This was my way of flattering him and was the closing of my proposal. What a risk that was, his beauty became clearer at each glance. There is no other word that could accurately describe his masterfully carved and classic features. After re-stating our interest I emphasized the objectives of the proposal, opened for questions and then turned it over to Michelle who had a smirk of confidence on her face and I knew that was code for, “You killed it, girl!”
Before Michelle spoke there was a pause for Jacobs’ team to come with questions or feedback. Mr. Jacobs motioned to indicate he was about to speak. My confidence weakened, nervousness awakened and my mouth went dry at the sight of his arresting eyes.
“So, Ms. Smith, what are you prepared to offer us in terms of numbers?” I was blanketed with relief when I realized his question wasn’t for me, oddly enough I was slightly disappointed as well. For some self-depreciatory reason, I wanted an opportunity to speak again to impress him, to make him take note of and remember me. But he skipped right over me. Just then Michelle played her assigned role and laid out all the numbers starting with projected revenue.
I watched as Azmir Jacobs and his people studied closely the financial document Michelle elaborated on. It was at that time when I abruptly recalled where I knew those eyes from.
Azmir Jacobs’ were the pair of eyes at Cobalt last week at the dance-off! At the retention of that visual, I lost control of my breathing preceding the choking on my saliva. All eyes turned to me as I grunted to clear my throat. When I grabbed the front of my neck mechanically, I felt the moisture collected on the pads of my finger tips and palm of my right hand. He had to have recalled, too, hence his awkward gape earlier.
I just blew this proposal and I’m going to die in the boardroom!
I forced my eyes closed to hide the fear that attacked them.
“Are you okay, Ms Brimm? Could I have the receptionist bring you something?” Mr. Jacobs rose in alarm from the table. Struck with panic, his tone—soft and sans the edge it carried earlier—spoke warmth and sincerity.