"WE ARE GOING TO LAND the Kibble Tidbits account, or we
are going to die trying!"
Allison Robbins nodded vigorously at her boss Frank's
vehement statement. She noticed that everyone else at the
conference table at Flashpoint Advertising was also
nodding in agreement.
"I don't have to tell you how big this account is," Frank
said, pacing around the conference-room table like Patton
rallying the troops. "We're talking millions of dollars in
media placement, more millions in brand-advertising
development and creative development and direct mail.
Their parent company? Only one of the largest fast-food
restaurant chains in the United States!"
Allison tried not to think about the fact that one of the
largest fast-food restaurant chains in the United States
also had a dog food product. There wasn't any correlation.
Probably.
Frank continued, undeterred. "And, if we land this part of
the account, the Kibble Tidbits dog food product, there's
a good chance we could get the whole damn shooting match!"
Frank gestured to Allison, and she stood up. Her heart was
beating fast, the usual before she had to make a
presentation.
She had enough adrenaline in her bloodstream to bench-
press a school bus.
"Frank's asked me to pull together some notes on how we're
going to attack the proposal," Allison said. "Gary? You
want to run the slides?"
Gary, her assistant, instantly had the laptop and
projector running like clockwork. Before they hit the
lights, though, she noticed several people rolling their
eyes and sneering ever so slightly. She didn't blame them,
she supposed...it was the day before Thanksgiving, it was
three o'clock and a lot of them hoped to go home early.
Beyond that, she knew she didn't have their unswerving
support.
It hurt a little, sure, but she knew it.
The fact was, if they managed to land this account, Frank
was going to be promoted to vice president. That meant
there would be an account supervisor position open for the
taking, for one of the very account executives sitting
around this table. Every single one of them was aware of
it.
And Allison was going to have it, or die trying. Everyone
also knew that Allison was probably first in line for the
job, she thought, clicking her laser pointer on, which
only added to their resentment. That hurt just a touch
more.
Her heart was still dancing wildly in her chest, but she
pushed the sensation aside. She was next in line for a
damn good reason. She was the best at what she did.
Period. End of sentence.
"They've been saturating the market with some feel-good
stuff, but more of today's consumers are getting more
health conscious โ not just for themselves, but for their
pets..."
She started to run through the slides, her voice never
wavering. The slides were very convincing, and she noticed
lots of people taking notes. The slides ought to be
convincing. She and Gary had been here till midnight
getting them done.
"In addition to that, we're going to suggest a direct-mail
campaign to veterinarians, and maybe a coupon to the
consumers themselves..." She paused. "Gary? Could you
check the thermostat? It's getting a little hot in here...
I'll bet they cranked up the heat again."
That's when she noticed everyone look around at each
other. She felt as if she was on fire.
"Not too low," Marianne, one of the other execs, said
hastily. "Actually...honestly, I'm a little cold."
"Really?" Allison realized that a couple of people were
nodding, and to make matters worse, they were all staring
at her. She took a deep breath, or as deep as she could
manage, and tried to ignore the heat rushing through her.
It was nothing. Probably just a little...well, she was
only twenty-nine, so it wasn't a hot flash. Maybe
something she ate. "So, to continue. What we're
recommending..."
Her heart suddenly pumped faster, demanding her attention.
What the heck...?
"Allison?" Frank asked when she paused noticeably. "You
all right?"
She struggled for focus, reined herself in. "Sure. Anyway,
it's all there in the handouts." She wasn't going to be
able to continue. The feeling threatened to overwhelm her,
and she forced herself to keep her voice steady. "You
don't need me to walk you through it. Especially when most
of you probably have turkey and pumpkin pie on your minds,
not dog biscuits."
She got a polite business-laugh, and she realized that
Frank was still staring at her curiously as she went back
to her seat. She sat down because she was afraid she'd
fall down. It felt about a million degrees in there.
Worse, she was starting to find the atmosphere absolutely
cloying. It was like breathing fog. She looked longingly
out the hermetically sealed window.
Just one deep breath... "Great job, Allison. Of course,
that's what I expect." Frank walked to the front of the
room. "I also expect everyone to be putting in overtime on
this one. Whatever it takes. So enjoy your turkey or pie
or whatever...because come Monday, we go to war. You can
go ahead and go home early, if you like."
His eyes said but not if you want to get the promotion.
They all thanked him...and then filed out, going to their
respective offices. Nobody was leaving, Allison felt quite
sure of that.
Allison felt her head start to pound in tempo with her
heart.
Frank hung back, staring at her. "What the hell was that
about?" he asked as Gary packed up the projector and
laptop. "You didn't even go over your presentation, after
all that work." He squinted at her. "And you look sort of
pale."
"Frank, I am sort of pale," she said, laughing it off. Or
trying to. All she wanted to do was rush outside and take
some gulping breaths, but she forced herself to get up
slowly, steadying herself. "I'm in here at six-thirty,
don't leave until eight. When do I have time to tan?"
"Well, make sure you're not coming down with a cold," he
said with a grumpy note of concern. "I will," she said. A
cold. Maybe that was it. The flu...
"Because I really need you on point for this. We can't
afford to screw this up."
"Of course." Like she didn't know that? He waited a
second, just to let her know that he was serious, then he
left. She walked slowly back to her office. She felt
nauseous.
Gary was putting the laptop away, but he stood up. "What
happened?" He repeated Frank's question but, unlike Frank,
his voice rang through with real worry.
"Nothing," she said. "Can I ask you for a favor?"
He looked at her, frowning. "Your wish, my command, yadda
yadda. What do you need?"
"Did you bring your car?"
He blinked at her from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
"Um, yeah. What, do you need me to pick something up?"
"More like drop something off," she muttered, grabbing her
briefcase from behind her desk. "Come on. I'll tell you on
the way."
They walked toward the parking lot at a fairly decent
pace. She could see some people glancing at her, obviously
wondering if she was leaving early. She kept her
expression schooled, and ignored the desire to hold Gary's
arm for support, letting him talk about her schedule, the
upcoming presentations...the works.
When the doors opened to the outside, she took in a deep,
explosive breath.
Gary glanced around, then put a steadying arm around her
waist. "Whoa. What the hell?"
"Anybody looking?" No matter how hard she breathed, she
still felt as if she couldn't get enough air. "No." Now
his voice crackled with worry. "What's going on?"
"You're taking me to the hospital," she whispered.
"Slowly. Something's wrong."
If anyone could look casually panicked, it'd be Gary. She
almost laughed at the war of emotions on his normally
impassive face. "You got it."
She got into his car, barely grinning at the way he
sedately pulled out of the parking lot...and then gunned
the engine when they were out of sight of the building.
"What is it? What's happening?" Now that they were safely
out of earshot, Gary's voice rang out like a very high-
pitched trumpet. "You looked awful. I thought you were
going to pass out."
"I feel like I can't breathe," she said, finally leaning
back against the cushions. "My heart's beating like a wild
woman."
"Does it hurt?"
"Well, it's not what I'd call comfortable," she snapped.
"Do you think it's a heart attack?"
"I don't...well. Hmm." She tried to remember what it had
been like when her father had his three heart attacks. The
problem was, she'd never actually been there when he'd had
them. All three times, he'd been in his office at work.
That probably wasn't a good sign, she thought, gnawing her
lower lip.
She rolled down the window, tried to take deep breaths as
the beginning of rush-hour Los Angeles traffic zoomed
around her. They pulled into the emergency room with a
squeal of tires. Gary practically carried her to the door.
"I am not completely incapacitated here," she said. "At
least you feel well enough to bitch at me," he said with
his usual straight face.
In a shorter amount of time than she would've expected,
she was shuttled off by a nurse practitioner. "So? You've
got chest pains? What type? What time, exactly, did they
start?" the woman asked.
"A little squeezy, and my heart's beating like crazy. They
started about an hour ago."
"Have you had any heart problems before? Any heart
attacks?" She handed Allison an aspirin, which Allison
stared at. "Take this."
Allison did as she was told. "No heart problems
personally, but attacks run in the family."
"Feel nauseous? Dizzy?"
"A little of both," Allison admitted.
"Lie down. Breathe this." The nurse put the tubes of
oxygen in Allison's nose and then started unbuttoning
Allison's shirt, sticking her with EKG pads. "Are you
taking Viagra?"
Allison was so surprised, she sat up, strangling herself
on the oxygen hose. "Am I taking what?"
"Are you taking anything like Viagra?" the nurse repeated
impatiently.
Allison couldn't help it. She let out a burst of nervous
laughter. "Do I look like I have erectile dysfunction to
you?"
"Gotta ask it, whether you're male or female. Okay. Just
lie back and let me check this out."
Allison did, focusing on her breathing. "Ms.
Robbins...have you been under any stress lately?"
"Well, sure. Who isn't?" That probably shouldn't have come
out as defensively as it did. "Are you regularly under
pressure?"
"Only when I'm awake," she tried to joke, then thought
about the last nightmare she had โ a client review where
she was giving a presentation in nothing but granny
panties and a big grin. "Okay. Sometimes when I sleep."
The woman nodded knowingly. "Well, I can't say this
conclusively, and the doctor's going to want to talk to
you, but from everything I've seen, you aren't having a
heart attack."
Allison slumped back against the gurney. "That's a relief."
"But I will say one thing," the nurse added. "You seem to
be having the mother of all panic attacks."
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