Direct access to Northbridge’s executive leadership.
He’d imagined telling Vanessa about it over dinner, perhaps arriving in that gleaming sports car he’d rented for the weekend.
Now Daniel was questioning the criteria he’d spent weeks developing.
“Mr. Carter,” Brandon said slowly, “the numbers in my presentation are real.”
“I haven’t said otherwise.”
“And the strategy could work.”
“Parts of it could.”
Brandon looked up.
“Are you removing me from consideration because of what Vanessa said?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No. Your guest’s conduct is hers. I’m evaluating your work and how you respond when confronted with a problem.”
He leaned forward.
“I’ve seen people make poor judgments under pressure. I’ve made my own. What matters is whether they can recognize them, correct them, and avoid repeating them.”
Brandon nodded.
Daniel continued.
“You invited Vanessa tonight. She used your name to claim authority she didn’t have. When I asked you about it, your first instinct was to call the situation a misunderstanding.”
Brandon looked down.
“You’re right.”
“Why?”
For a moment, Brandon considered giving a polished answer.
He’d spent years becoming good at those.
He knew how to speak confidently in meetings, how to make a proposal sound inevitable, and how to turn an uncertain forecast into a compelling presentation.
But the man opposite him had already read the proposal.
And he’d watched Vanessa’s performance firsthand.
“Because I was embarrassed,” Brandon admitted.
Daniel waited.
“I wanted you to believe I had everything under control. That I belonged among the people in that ballroom.”
“Do you?”
Brandon looked confused.
“Sir?”
