Pens scratched on paper and sitting positions were altered at intervals, yet it did nothing to alleviate the tension that was hanging in the room. Zayn’s assistant, Mia, thought there was something else going on there- something she couldn’t place her hands on. She had never seen Mr. Graham that way before. He was always bored, and broody, without much care for people.
But this? It was different, almost like he was starting to care too much, and it was translating into something that bordered on pure hatred and distaste.
“I don’t like the first floor,” Zayn muttered suddenly, flipping open the pages of the document Joel had handed over. “Revamp the whole thing. It looks like a scene from an 80s movie. And don’t get me wrong. Those scenes are great. This just has a little bit of the camera quality too. Do you understand me?”
Joel swallowed, and scooted to the edge of his seat, clasping his hands. “The first floor is the way it is because our architect thought it was a great outlay. And I like it too. Our clients have not complained before about it either.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m investing too much here to come to a room I don’t like seeing all the time. Do something about it. And change the casing of the elevator. It is not giving me the luxury I want to invest in.”
“But…”
“I’m sure the funds we’re pumping in here is more than enough to cover that. I signed off the amount on purpose, Mr. Osteen, so kindly work on all I’ve pointed out. Now, to the next. Mia, can you please read it out? The next item in the sponsorship plan.”
Mia cleared her throat and looked at the faces in the room, wishing she could be out of there. She read out the next section concerning the level of production and the amount of equity that would be coming to Graham Conglomerate.
“70% – 30%,” Zayn announced, angling his head. It wasn’t usually what he requested for, seeing as he had poured a lot into this. But he was willing to go that low for Rina. This was her place just as much as Joel owned it, and he wanted to make things as smooth for her as possible. He might not be outrightly moving mountains for her, but with the little he could influence from the sidelines, Zayn was going to ensure he could do that very well.
“Okay, Mr. Graham.” Of course. There was no way Joel was going to object to that. It was a good deal.
“Any other business?”
“The International Fashion Show you made mention of in the mail,” Joel replied, evading Zayn’s eyes. There was just something about the intensity of his stares that unnerved Joel. He tried to think if he had done or said something that had gotten Zayn pissed, but he was coming up empty. But there had to be something, because why else could he be acting that way toward him?
“What about it?”
“The fashion house didn’t plan on having that this year,” he muttered. “We only just opened so we wanted to give it more time to maybe gather an international audience and work from there. We are yet to have any foreign contracts with fashion houses since we just started climbing the ladder. We need to build our portfolio.”
“You seem not to have thought about this very well,” Zayn scoffed. “I’m a businessman, and business analysis is what I do best. From the release on Tell, if you continue at this pace, and of course, with the publicity tactic of Graham Conglomerate, O. S. N would have doubled in size and income in under a month. Trust me when I say you’re not going to have to reach out to fashion houses in the global space because they will reach out to you first.
“You’ve created a theme surrounding anonymity with your model, and while that is a brilliant concept, you can’t keep up with it for too long. People will get bored and tired, and you will have to return to scratch to find something to get them interested again. So why not do it on the line?”
“I’m not sure I understand…”
Zayn rolled his eyes, reminding himself of the reason he was dishing out so much value for almost nothing in return. “People copy things, Mr. Osteen. You need to stay one step ahead. Now that you’ve captured people’s attention with the anonymity of your model, I hope you have the next thing planned to keep their attention the minute this begins to waver. You could plan it in tandem with the International Fashion Show. That’s all the advice I can offer you now.”
Joel nodded, so grateful to have Zayn on his side, even though he still hadn’t gotten over the scowls and glares. Getting Zayn to sponsor a brand was one of the hardest things to do in the country. Joel couldn’t believe his luck. He must have done something great in his past life to deserve this.
The chair pushed back as Zayn got up on his feet.
“Thank you for coming over,” Joel reached out his hand for a handshake, hoping this time around, he wouldn’t have the same reaction. But Zayn didn’t as much as regard his outstretched arm, turning around and heading out the door. He didn’t wait for the rest of them as he got into the elevator and punched in the button for the second floor, anticipation building inside him.
Because Rina had once mentioned her office was located at the end of the hallway, away from the designers working on that floor, it was not hard for Zayn to locate it. Not bothering to knock, he pushed open the door at once and closed it behind him in one second, the sudden movement causing Rina to snap her head up.
“Zayn!” She breathed, getting on her feet at once. “What are you doing…How did you get here?”