Bad Influencer by Reed Kenzie

Bad Influencer by Reed Kenzie

Author:Reed, Kenzie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-25T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Seventeen

Elliott

The investors’ meeting with Park City Properties is teetering on the brink, and frustration burns in my gut. Despite everything we’ve accomplished, despite our massive success with the park opening, the investors are still wavering. Manny Campbell has submitted some bullshit survey which allegedly shows that since I was named CEO, public perception of our parks is skewing towards the negative.

Manny brought Lauren with him to this morning’s meeting. They sit opposite me, and she makes a big show of simpering over him, plucking imaginary lint from his sleeve and shooting me coy little looks. He’s obviously brought her in an attempt to rattle me, when all it does is make me stifle a scornful laugh. I wonder how much longer she’d have her job if he knew of her recent offer to betray his company.

“The time to sell is now.” Manny’s arrogant voice booms through the room, bouncing off the walls. “Before public perception slips even lower, and our offer is either withdrawn or revised in a downward direction.”

Edith coughs into her hand and it sounds a lot like “bullshit,” which earns her a disgusted lip curl from Manny. I wish my father could be here to back me up, but when I mentioned it to my mother, she gave me that wounded-bird look and protested that the stress would be terrible for him.

Quinton Schroder, one of the major investors and my grandfather’s best friend, is in my corner. A couple more are on his side. The other are either wavering or firmly in Manny’s camp.

I raise my voice to a level that matches Manny’s. “So, just to be clear, we should sell based on a single public opinion survey that was taken by a company in your employ.” Scorn drips from my every word.

He pins a cold glower on me. “Are you questioning the integrity of Dunham, Dunham, and Leominster? Their reputation is impeccable.”

“The latest park opening was an undeniable success,” I say. ”And we have our own measures of public perception which directly contradict the report that you’ve presented. We rely on a reputation monitoring firm, and our metrics have continued to trend upwards.” I have to phrase what I’m saying very carefully. Before we took on Jillian, our metrics were flat or downward, thanks in large part to Manny’s whisper campaign with carefully planted pictures of my glum face at park events and constant mentions of my father’s heart attack.

And even I have to admit, if only to myself, that if our company’s revamped reputation is depending on one social media influencer, we’re standing on shaky ground. One single misplanned event could backfire and take us down. Hell, it’s pure luck that no photographer caught me with my usual resting scowl face at the park opening. It shouldn’t matter—numbers are what should matter. Profit and loss—and we’ve got nothing but profit.

If we didn’t have this offer on the table, we’d be fine. But with Manny worrying at us like a terrier with a bone, it does matter.



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