Beneath the Ice

Chapter 5

The following week arrived with an email that made Lisa’s stomach drop: Kim Industries was hosting a major conference, and as Jennie’s executive assistant, Lisa was in charge of overseeing the entire event.

It was, naturally, Jennie’s doing.

Lisa stood in front of Jennie’s desk, holding the email as if it were a death sentence. “You want me to handle a *conference*? Like, a whole *conference*?”

Jennie didn’t look up from her computer, her fingers typing at lightning speed. “That is what I just said, yes.”

Lisa blinked. “Right. Cool. Just making sure we’re on the same page.” She forced a smile, her brain already spinning. “I mean, this is great! Totally within my wheelhouse. Love conferences. Who doesn’t? Big rooms, lots of people, endless opportunities to mess up in front of hundreds of professionals—what’s not to love?”

Jennie finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Are you trying to inspire confidence, or are you rehearsing for your own failure?”

Lisa grinned sheepishly. “Confidence! I’m all about confidence. This is just how I hype myself up, you know? Gotta laugh or else I’ll cry.”

Jennie’s expression didn’t change. “I suggest you focus on preparation, not jokes.”

Lisa straightened, trying to muster a more serious expression. “Right. Preparation. I’m on it.”

Jennie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “This is an important event for the company. Everything needs to go perfectly. I expect professionalism, punctuality, and precision.”

“No pressure, then,” Lisa muttered under her breath, but she quickly added, “I mean, no problem! Everything will be flawless, I promise. No fires, small or otherwise.”

Jennie’s gaze lingered for a moment before she returned to her screen. “See that it is.”

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Fast forward to the day of the conference, and Lisa was a bundle of nerves. The venue was massive—a glossy, high-rise hotel with multiple conference rooms and a ballroom that had been converted into the main stage area. Attendees were already milling around in suits, clutching coffee cups and conference pamphlets, and Lisa was juggling five different tasks at once, barking orders into her phone.

“Yes, the presentation should be on the screen *now*! No, not the company logo—why is there a picture of a cat on the screen? Oh, it’s a stock photo? Okay, well, *get it off* and put the slides on!” Lisa paused, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Also, where’s the coffee station? People are starting to panic. I repeat, there is no caffeine. We have a crisis.”

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at a new message from Jennie: *I’ll be arriving shortly. Everything better be in place.*

Lisa gulped. *No pressure, Lisa. You got this.* She shoved her phone into her pocket and raced toward the main stage area, where the final preparations were underway.

As she arrived, she saw one of the tech crew fiddling with the AV equipment. He gave her an apologetic look. “There’s a bit of a glitch with the projector. The slides keep freezing.”

“Not again,” Lisa groaned. “Why do projectors hate me?”

The tech guy shrugged. “Could be worse. At least it’s not smoking.”

“Small blessings,” Lisa muttered as she glanced at the screen, which flickered for a second before stabilizing. “Okay, okay. It’s working for now. Let’s just pray it stays that way.”

She turned to check on the seating arrangements when she heard a voice behind her—sharp and unmistakable.

“Ms. Manoban.”