Executive Disagreement

By Anjelica Grace

I need this promotion more than I need my next breath.

I've worked hard to get where I am.

I've held my head high while accusations of sleeping my way to the top, using my looks and sexuality, and brown-nosing have flown.

This promotion will be based strictly on my abilities as an executive marketer.

Nobody will be able to take that from me.

 

The only problem?

I have to work with Mitchel McNamara.

We have to create a campaign together then each present it in our own way.

 

He's charming, sexy, and smooth… On the surface.

Deep down, I know he is an awful, love'em and leave'em man, who will use whoever he needs to—whatever he needs to—to climb his way to the top.

 

This promotion is between him and me.

One project, two different presentations.

May the best man… or woman… win.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anjelica Grace
• Release date: Apr 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201131388

Book preview

One

Camille

Butterflies have overtaken my stomach, and my palms are damp enough I’m not sure I could open the water bottle in front of me if I wanted to, even though I need it since my mouth feels like I swallowed a sheet of sandpaper while navigating the Sahara.

This meeting started with a cacophony of mutters and whispered speculations about who would be the chosen one to head what might be the biggest, most important marketing campaign our company has ever had. Our boss, the CEO and namesake of our marketing company, Mr. Dale Orchard, has been presenting the quarterly report for going on an hour now, as though he doesn’t hold the news that could make or break one of our careers. Now that he’s wrapping up the unnecessary financial breakdown—we all know we’re the top dog in the fight and raking in clients left and right—everyone is sitting up straighter, listening with rapt attention, waiting for him to finally get to the news we’ve all been on pins and needles for.

The second his presentation ends on the screen, I retrain my focus on the room—rather than my own rattled, anxious body—catching the tail end of his quarterly spiel on where we’re standing financially, and holding my breath waiting for what’s next.

This promises to be one of our largest, most lucrative campaigns in company history. With its results—if favorable—comes a promotion to chief executive, with a possibility of partner on the near horizon, Mr. Orchard says in his calmest voice, even as his words deliver the heaviest hit to my system they possibly ever have. He brings up another screen, and the room erupts into loud, excited whispers as everyone realizes who the client will be. I’ve already chosen two execs to work together, and then against each other in a boardroom pitch, to vie for this promotion.

Everyone knows he isn’t long from retirement. The man is nearing seventy years old, and if the visits from his wife, attorney, and various other family members day in and day out are any indication, they want him to take a step back.

Camille, his thick, once three pack a day voice rasps out. I raise my gaze from the paperwork in front of me to his wrinkle-rimmed hazel eyes, meeting their intensity with a deep-seated respect and seriousness of my own. You and Mitchel are my choices. He shifts his penetrating glance from me to Mitchel McNamara. Is that clear?

Yes, sir, I chirp, even as the knots in my stomach work themselves into a chaotic mess of tangles.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why does it have to be him? I would gladly work with anyone else.

Mitch is an asshole. He’s charming, smart, can be incredibly kind and fun; and then he’ll betray you like it’s nothing. I know, I’ve been on the receiving end of this in the past.

You’ve also been on the receiving end of more from him: good and amazing. One night turned into weeks of passion, and feelings, I would rather pretend I never had than admit to. Just to have it all come to a crashing, destructive halt.

Are you clear on that, McNamara? Mr. Orchard pins Mitch to his seat with a stare that dares him, or anyone, to defy him. Mitch clearly didn’t answer fast enough for Mr. O’s liking.

Crystal, sir, Mitch volleys back with a forced smirk. He knows he was just called out in front of everyone, and if the tick in his jaw, or the narrowing of his gaze is any indication, he didn’t appreciate it.

Serves him right.

Good, I’ll expect you two to come up with a campaign. Work together on all of the necessary details, solidify everything. You’ll then pitch the same idea to me and the client. The best man, or woman, will take on the account, and will receive the promotion.

Mitch’s attention slides to me, and he raises his brows, grinning like an idiot who thinks he’s already won, then shakes his head subtly, before addressing Mr. Orchard, I look forward to working with Camille. She’s been hot lately, with the clients of course, and I’m sure she will bring a ton of great ideas to the table to combine with mine.

That’s what I like to hear, the team spirit has already set in, Mr. Orchard responds with a slight chuckle. Camille, I expect you feel the same?

Of course, sir. I plaster a painfully wide grin on my face and nod my head. Mitch has done incredible work with some of our biggest and best clients. His strategies are always on point, he certainly knows how to play the game—in marketing—that is.

Mr. Orchard chuckles and shakes his head, as everyone else joins in awkwardly, while Mitch and I stare each other down. I’ve managed to avoid the man at all costs since our—affair, relationship, romance—whatever it was ended.

Now, I will be diving headfirst into the lion’s den. And the way my body is already warring with itself, between my core clenching at the memories, the residual pain of my heart shattering, and my brain simultaneously wanting more while also wanting to kill him, then flee before any of this begins, I know this project will be anything but easy.

It’s on, he mouths.

Bring it, playboy, I silently enunciate back, meaning the term in every way possible, as I remember how smooth and convincing he can be when he wants something… or someone.

****

Mitch

Rich chocolate brown eyes pierce me like a dagger as she goads me on. Camille’s longstanding hatred of me radiates off her like a heat lamp. She’s the one person in this company I don’t want to be paired with for this damn job.

She’s the one person in this company who could take your promotion too, the voice in my head reminds me annoyingly.

The woman with light olive skin, silky brown hair, and an ability to bite even louder than she barks is my Achilles heel here. She’s stolen big projects right out from under me, and managed to rob my attention, along with the jobs.

What I wouldn’t give to feel that bite again. I absolutely won’t be speaking that out loud… ever. I value my balls staying in tact far more than the idea of her pinned beneath me, moaning my name again.

Mitch? Mr. Orchard says, in a voice laced with enough irritation to know he’s tried once for my attention already. But again, Camille Remington has stolen my ability to stay on task. Just as she always has, even when she’s avoiding me.

Yes, sir? I raise my head, meeting his unamused glare with a smile.

I don’t know what’s got your mind today, but I need you to focus on this deal, otherwise I’ll hand the promotion and job over to Camille now.

Fuck. Make this right, asshole, before everything’s gone, including your second chance with Camille, before you’re even in the fight.

"Sorry, sir, it won’t