To Color Your Life - Chapter 93

God, what did I sign up for?! Hayes, don’t you think that you were totally decieved, and, what’s even funnier, by your own hands?

Approximately such thoughts overwhelmed the girl at the moment, and several others that could not be said aloud due to censorship. They say that if you hit a person on the finger with a hammer, he can remember all the swear words that he only heard in his life.

Emily had this feeling now.

Her face remained as calm as possible, and the blood inside raged like a flame out of control.

Was Grandma Marian one of the founders of the Pharaoh Publishing House? Damn, you definitely need to warn about this in advance!

Probably, if Emily were now informed that she is in fact an alien from another planet, whom her parents found somewhere in an open field area, she would not even raise an eyebrow.

The shareholders gathered in the hall were not distinguished by such restraint. Their faces were filled with shock and surprise, bordering on the loss of connection with reality.

“I wanted to leave this surprise as a wedding present for you, but this awesome moment came out, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer, darling,” Mr. Pitcher’s chuckle sounded next to Emily’s ear.

This is definitely a surprise! Emily nodded, not knowing whether to cry or laugh.

“Welcome to the Pharaoh family,” the grandfather of her boss greeted her loudly, leading the crowd out of their temporary stupor. “Okay, sort it out on your own, I’ll go and take a sit, I’m already too old, my legs can’t hold me.”

Mr. Pitcher stepped briskly down from the stage (never leaning on his cane!) And returned to his seat.

The happy face of the man stood out too much against the background of the confused faces of his colleagues. As if they came to a restaurant, and the ordered food was brought only to him.

Muahaha, look and envy! Would you be able to pull such a trick? She even wanted to put a poster with a similar inscription behind Arthur Pitcher.

Yes, Hayes, it looks like you are very lucky with future relatives.

“Mr. Denver, do you still have any questions?” Justin asked Christian, to which the latter only shook his head.

“Well, if no one else has any questions, I suggest we start the presentation,” Evans held out his hand to Emily, inviting her to the microphone. “You’re beautiful. Relax and don’t worry about anything,” he whispered in the girl’s ear as they drew level with each other.

“Thanks,” she nodded and stood behind the counter.

She did not have any notes with her; Emily remembered the content of the presentation perfectly well even without them.

Her new status in the publishing house is unlikely to significantly affect the opinion of shareholders, the girl assumed, but for herself it was another support that gave confidence.

Now, standing on the stage, she felt that she was in her place. All those dreams associated with publishing that she cherished since childhood, at the moment turned into a clear goal that she had to reach with her hand.

“Once again, I thank you all for being present at the reporting meeting of the Pharaoh magazine. This is the thirtieth project launched within the framework of the publishing house, and one of the most successful projects at the moment.”

The girl’s speech was confident and clear, Emily managed to create eye contact with everyone present and made sure that people listen to her carefully.

She picked up the microphone and left from behind the podium.

“The slide that you see behind me shows the magazine’s profit and sales figures for the three years since the day it was established. I think you are well aware of all this,” Emily smiled and walked downstairs with a light gait.

Several men in the front row held their breath as the girl stopped in front of their seats.

Typically, the speakers of the reporting presentations broadcast their theses from the rostrum, as was the case at classical meetings. But the concept of “classic” was clearly not about the Pharaoh magazine.

“Mr. Seymour, hello. How are you doing?” Emily turned to a guest who had been annoyingly commenting on Pitcher’s decision to transfer his shares to her a few minutes earlier.

“Eh, h-hello,” the man was confused when the girl held out the microphone to him.

“Have you read the last issue of our magazine?” she asked.

Seymour glanced at the colleagues sitting next to him, but they did not take their eyes off Emily. From a close distance, they could see that the girl’s white jacket was embroidered with barely noticeable silk threads, the weaves of which formed the coat of arms of the publishing house.

The bracelets on her arms were engraved, citing the main postulates of the publishing house’s mission. And at the ends of the gold chains that were woven into the strands of hair, there were the same mini-emblems, only voluminous and half a centimeter in size.

Her entire costume was thought out to the smallest detail.

One of the men said to himself that he would not mind wearing a male version of a jacket with a similar pattern.

“Sorry Miss Hayes,” said Mr. Seymour, “I haven’t read the last issue of your magazine. To be honest, I haven’t read a single issue of this magazine.”

“Tsk, what a boring snob. I thought so,” Kelly snorted into Emily’s ear. “Turn a little to the right, the fourth camera will be right in front of you. The programmers reported that the user we need is already online.”

Great, everything is according to plan.

“Oh, sorry you didn’t see the last issue,” Emily unhooked one of the gold chains from the tiara and placed it on the table next to the man. The chain turned out to be an exquisite bracelet. “Your daughter is an active user of ours, Mr. Seymour. Recently we had a competition, and she won the first place in it. She wrote a story that has been read by over a million users. Please give her this gift.” Emily looked up from the man and looked into the camera, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said the girl’s father, dumbfounded, thinking Emily was congratulating him. “Rebecca didn’t tell me anything about it. And I didn’t know that she could write something.”

“Pharaoh is a place where people reveal their talents, even the most hidden ones,” Hayes smiled, Mr. Seymour squared his shoulders, his face expressing the pride of a parent for the achievement and praise of his child.

“Thank you, you’re right. That’s what we’re working for,” he nodded.

“Oh, and the head of the nonfiction department turns out to be not such a cold fish, ” Kelly paid a compliment to the man, whom she herself recently called a snob.

Emily could hardly restrain herself from laughing. Her best friend’s comments were like a soap opera on TV. Only Hayes was at that moment in the role of one of the actors.

“According to the latest research, consumer psychology has changed from a decade ago. People are presented with a huge choice of what food to eat, what clothes to wear, how to rest. What to spend their time and money on. Do you agree, Mr. Thompson?”

Emily switched to another major shareholder who was the head of analytics at the publishing house. Mr. Thompson, to his credit, remained as reserved and focused as he was. What an amazing exposure!

The man nodded, and that answer was enough for the girl.

“With such a variety, the consumer loses interest in simple things. He no longer wants to just consume. He wants to create, or at least to be a participant in the process in which the product is created.”

The slide on the wall switched, the picture showed the updated application of the Pharaoh magazine.

“Pharaoh’s audience is very responsive, they love their authors. It’s time to reciprocate their feelings. For sixty years of development of the publishing house, more than thirty directions have been launched within the company. Some of them did not pass the test, but others became independent branches of a huge tree.”

Emily turned to Denver. She felt the gaze of a man from the moment she entered the hall. But there was no disdain in this look. On the contrary, the man listened with sincere interest to her every word and followed her every movement.

And it was hard to tell if he was studying his opponent, or enjoying the speech of a nice looking speaker who burst into their world of stuffy strict ties like a fresh sea breeze.

“We bring to your attention the “Pharaoh” application. The single heart of the entire publishing house, which will unite in itself all the directions of the company, which will connect readers and authors with each other and open a new era. An era in which to be a part of the Pharaoh will be an honor for every single user.. We will create a family in which everyone will find a place.”