“Oh,” he said quickly, whipping back around to face me. “And T? Don’t forget to bring your notebook. You’ll want to take notes today, okay?”
I nodded and forced a smile that fell the second he disappeared down the hall. With a roll of my eyes, I spun my chair around to face the back wall. In five years, I’d never had an encounter with Zach that didn’t make my queasy. He was smart, but he rarely used his intelligence for anything other than talking his way out of trouble. I hated the fact that he was above me in the company when I spent most of my time doing his job. Covering his ass had become my unofficial job description, and I was sick of it.
There was nothing I could do but grin and take it, though. Zach was Ray’s son, the sole heir to the Yates’ family fortune. Ray Yates was a name brand in the motorcycle world. The company was right up there with Harley Davidson and Kawasaki. I was thrilled to work there, and I knew it was great for my career, but I still couldn’t stand being around Zach.
As nine o’clock approached, I sighed and gathered my things for the meeting. I walked slowly toward the conference room, not wanting to face Zach again. When I reached the conference room, though, Zach was nowhere to be found. Most of the chairs were filling up quickly. Ray sat at the head of the table with an empty chair on either side of him. I moved immediately to take the seat on his right.
He smiled when I sat down, but didn’t say anything. Ray wasn’t one for meaningless chit chat. It was one reason I loved working for him. Except for Zach’s arrogance, Ray Yates Motorcycles was the best job I’d ever had.
The conference room was full now, and Zach filed in at the last minute. At exactly nine o’clock, Ray cleared his throat and stood up. Everyone fell silent immediately.
“I know this a little unusual,” he said with a smile. “Friday morning meetings are generally useless, but this was too important to wait until Monday. Zach and I have been going over the numbers with the board for the past couple weeks. Things don’t look good. Our profits are declining at an alarming rate, and we can’t sit back and do nothing. We thought it was just a natural fall in the market, but it isn’t. We’re losing popularity, and with that, we’re losing money. Fast.”
There were hushed whispers around the room. I didn’t need to hear them to know what everyone was worried about. Layoffs.
“Relax,” Ray laughed. “We aren’t talking about firing anyone, yet. We’re hoping it won’t have to come to that. That’s what this meeting is about. Our company needs a change. Something big. Drastic. Something that will bring in more customers.”
With that, Ray turned to Zach who stood up and moved to stand beside his father.
“Our target demographic is, obviously, the motorcycle community,” Zach said. “The problem is, they have no interest in buying from us anymore. Now, we don’t know why that is. Our quality hasn’t decreased. So, we’re thinking it’s our image.”
“Our image?” I interjected without thinking.
“Yes.” Zach nodded. “Our image is no longer appealing to the community.”
“Tara,” Ray said. “Would you run to my office and grab the iPad? I’d like us to review the numbers so everyone understands where we stand.”
“Sure,” I said with a frown.
Once I was safely out of the conference room, I let my face fall even further. How much trouble was the company in? Why didn’t Ray confide in me before the meeting? Why was Zach the one helping him with this issue?
These questions and more ran through my mind as I pushed open the door to Ray’s office. I hurried over to his desk and pulled out the middle drawer. The iPad was sitting right on top. I grabbed it, already pushing the drawer closed, when something caught my eye. Sitting in the drawer, right on top, was a glossy picture of a young man.
I picked up the picture and examined it. The man couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. He was sitting on a Ray Yates bike, his shaggy black hair falling over his face. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. His blue eyes were focused somewhere behind the camera. It was as if he was looking straight through the photographer.
Whoever the man was, he looked oddly familiar to me. I turned the photo over and saw the name “Sean” scrawled in messy handwriting on the back. I frowned and turned the picture back over. I’d always known Ray had another son, but I never knew his name. It was obvious from the color of his eyes and the shape of his jaw that he was a Yates.
I tucked both the iPad and the picture under my arm and half-ran back to the conference room. The second I saw the picture an idea began to form in my mind. It was crazy, and it probably wouldn’t work, but I knew I had to try.
When I got back to the conference room, they were in the middle of throwing around ideas. People were talking a mile a minute. No one noticed me until I walked to the front of the room and stood right beside Ray.
“Thank you,” he said, reaching for the iPad. I moved it out of his reach and set it on the table.
“Ray,” I said quickly. “Who is this?”
I held the picture out to Ray. His face changed in an instant. His lips tightened and his eyebrows pulled together. I watched as his cheeks began to redden and his eyes narrowed slightly. I knew I needed to talk fast.
“He is perfect for the company,” I said. “He’s exactly who we need to turn things around.”
“What are you talking about?” Ray asked. The room fell silent again, everyone’s attention glued to Ray and me.
“This is the image we’re looking for,” I explained. “With him as the face of the company, we’ll be back on top in no time.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zach snapped.
“I do!” I argued. “I know what the motorcycle community is looking for, and this is it! He is it!”
Ray was already shaking his head before I even finished speaking. He was staring at the picture in his hand with a mixture of sadness and regret. I wanted to say more, to explain myself further, but the look on his face told me to hold my tongue.
“Tara isn’t wrong,” Ray said finally. He spoke softly, but his voice carried across the silent conference room. “This is the image we’re looking for.”
He slid the picture into the middle of the table. Everyone leaned in to get a better look. I held my breath and waited for Ray to say more.
“This could help us,” Ray said. “Or, something like this. Let’s get in touch with modeling agencies. Let’s find someone who fits this look.”
“But Ray,” I said quickly. “It won’t be authentic. Our customers will know it’s staged.”
“It’s our best option,” Ray argued. “Your idea is a good one, Tara. Let’s run with it.”
“My idea is not to hire a model!” I said with a shake of my head. “That’s just fake. Everyone will see right through it. My idea is Sean. You can tell just from a picture that motorcycles are his life. He looks like he was born to ride. That will sell. That is what our customers want to see.”