job of protecting his bank branch. If it were left solely up to him, he would have sought a private security firm much earlier. But the board’s primary concern was that the branch met certain profitability goals first. When the Charlotte branch had hit the benchmark for the fiscal year ending this past summer, Marco had been thrilled.
He’d been looking for a firm for almost a month, and now he had only a few days to find someone. It would be a difficult feat to accomplish, but Marco had set his mind to more difficult things and succeeded. He was determined not to disappoint the board, or Sal. He felt extremely fortunate to have such a good working relationship with him. Sal knew him better than most people in his life, and was the closest thing he’d had to a brother while growing up in Costa Rica.
Marco picked up his hands-free headset and put it on. He figured his best bet was to call up his friends and colleagues in the local financial sector and see if anyone could offer a recommendation. The size of his budget for the contract dictated that he’d need a smaller, local firm as opposed to a state-or nationwide one.
After seventy solid minutes of making calls, Marco removed his headset and looked at the names of the three firms he’d jotted on a notepad atop his desk. He used the intercom system to buzz his branch manager.
A few moments later, Roosevelt Hunter opened the office door and entered. Roosevelt, a tall, fit black man in his fifties, was Marco’s next in command. “What do you need, Marco?” Having been employed at the branch since it opened, Roosevelt had finally started calling Marco by his first name, as he’d requested from day one.
Marco tore the top sheet from his notepad, and handed it to the branch manager. “Roosevelt, could you contact these three security firms and solicit proposals from them?”
Taking the offered paper, Roosevelt nodded. “I’m on it. What day do you want them to come in?”
Marco scratched his chin. “If anyone can have their proposal drawn up and ready to present tomorrow after lunch, let them know they’ll have a leg up.”
One of Roosevelt’s brows rose. “You mean you want to sit through security proposals on a Friday afternoon?”
Marco chuckled. “Not really, but I’m on a tight deadline here, so I don’t have much of a choice.”
Roosevelt gave him a mock salute. “Whatever you say, boss. I’ll get right on it.” He turned and left the office, closing the door behind him.
Marco glanced at his gold wristwatch. It was a quarter till one, but he’d become accustomed to taking his lunch later than most. He didn’t have any desire to go out, so he grabbed his smartphone and placed a call to have his food delivered. After he hung up, he eased his chair closer to the desk, and started on the stack of paperwork on the desk awaiting his signature.
After all, the forms weren’t going to sign themselves.
Friday morning, Joi’s efforts in reaching out to her business contacts paid off in the form of a phone call to the office. She smiled through the entire call, and by the time she hung up with the man on the other end, she was pretty sure she’d found the perfect opportunity to get Citadel operating in the black again.
She called out for Karen, who was working in her office next door.
“We only have a few hours to pull together a proposal.”
Karen’s brow hitched, her face reflecting her confusion. “A proposal for what?”
“I just spoke to a Mr. Roosevelt Hunter, the branch manager at Royal Bank and Trust. They’re looking for a new security contractor, and apparently someone recommended us.”
Karen’s confusion melted into a smile. “Great. But why don’t we have more time to get the proposal together?”
Joi shrugged. “Mr. Hunter says they’re on a tight deadline to make a choice, and that if we could make our pitch this afternoon, it would give us a major advantage.”
“What time is your appointment?”
“Two o’clock.” Joi noted her business partner’s emphasis of the word your. Karen was many things: fashionable, organized and extremely intelligent. She was also pretty shy, which meant she never accompanied Joi to things like this. Karen much preferred to be left alone with her computer.
Leaning against the door frame, Karen spoke again. “Gather your stuff and meet me in the conference room.”
Karen disappeared, and Joi got up and began to gather the supplies they would need. When she had everything tucked into the wheeled caddy she kept by her desk, she took it down the short hallway to the small conference room at the end.
The black lacquer table centering the room seated six people. Each of the four corners held a live fern in a wicker planter. Vertical blinds covered the tall windows on one side of the room.
Karen was already seated at one end of the table when Joi walked in. “When are we going to hang some pictures or something in here?”
Joi glanced at the blank, aqua-hued wall opposite the window. Sliding into her seat next to Karen, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the bright-colored paint was decoration enough.”
A few moments later, they laid their paper and pens out on the table, and began the process of drawing up a proposal. As they conversed about what they would offer Royal, Joi took notes in a small notebook, while Karen typed away at the keys of her laptop.
As morning turned into afternoon, Karen finished the proposal, and hit Send to print the document via the office’s wireless printer. After Joi retrieved it, she deposited the papers into a navy-and-yellow folder with the Citadel logo emblazoned on the front of it. “This is it, Karen. This is the winning bid on that bank contract.”
Karen stood, stretching her arms over her head. “I hope you’re right. Can we break for lunch now?”
Glancing at her phone, Joi nodded. “We need to. It’s a quarter after twelve, and I gotta have time to eat, freshen up and drive over to the bank before my appointment.”
Karen moved past her. “I’ll hang out here and order in. Go on and grab lunch, then go knock ’em dead.”
“Thanks, Karen.” Joi spent a few minutes making sure she had everything she’d need for the afternoon, then departed.
A little over an hour later, she pulled her black single-cab pickup truck bearing the Citadel logo into a space behind Royal Bank and Trust. She’d stopped in the restroom of the diner she’d had lunch in to change. Forgoing her usual uniform, she’d chosen a pair of gray wool trousers and a matching blazer, paired with a bright red blouse. As she exited her truck and faced the chilly November wind, she was grateful for the warmth of the outfit. Moving across the lot as quickly as she could in her high-heeled red leather booties, she entered the building with the proposal tucked beneath her arm.
She looked around the interior of the bank, familiarizing herself with the layout. Knowing the lay of the land would be the first step in protecting the bank’s assets. She took a few moments to walk the perimeter of the space. The bank’s lobby was reasonably large, considering the size of the building as it appeared from the outside. It was
