what happened in a small town

part fourteen

Love is not necessarily heaven; most of the time, it is hell.
Hell for people who weren’t meant for each other, or someone who doesn’t see from the one person he chose, or people who weren’t meant to be together, or people who didn’t deserve to fall in love, or people with bad luck, Everything turns into misery.
It can become hell for many, and perhaps she fell into its suffocation yesterday for a few minutes, but those minutes cannot stand in front of her feeling of suffocation today, so happiness is a plane while sadness is a one-wheeled bicycle that does not go away quickly.
She tried to bury herself in work; the goal was to pass the day without thinking; she went back to archiving the files, immersing herself in the agency’s short history that spanned six years of failure and loss.

In the beginning, it was not run by Ethan Segal, it was another man named “Joe Litt”, a young man Who is now famous on social media, he worked well and consistently and kept this agency not the best but one of the most successful, the agency under his management received a lot of products that are advertised on social media, or marketing celebrities on social media, it did not get a lot of big projects, not movies or series or even deals with huge companies or brands, but the agency was successful in what he chose to be its field, and without introduction, the management was transferred to a member of the Segal family.
What she thinks happened is that Ethan returned to his father after he was sure that he lost his agency in New York, the debts and failure put him in a deep hole that made him rush to his father to fix it, almost giving up his free will to do anything, so his debts were paid and the other agency was sold and then he came to stick with the royal family in CaydeVillage, running its advertising agency that occupies two floors in the Seagal Holdings Foundation, hiding in the shadow of his successful sister and father with the tails of failure that he is unable to stop.
What she’s trying to do now is to lift this agency out of the wrong soil it was put in, to begin with: the problems of the rich.
She scoffed as she put the last files into her system; work had taken up her mind for a while; she forgot about her feelings and fear for a moment; she looked at the inner line that was lighting up; she took a long breath before her voice became formal but gentle.

“Marla Led from Segal Advertising Agency.”
She heard a semi-sarcastic insult from the other line, who had finally begun to carry out her duties as an assistant in connecting her with the producer of the series she was working on reviving, must have suffered. His tone came to her, carrying within her a definite prior impression that she did not blame him for.
“What do you want this time? To shut down my company or announce that I am changing my career to food products instead of soap operas.”
“After everything I’ve done for your series, that would be bad for me.”
She ignored his sarcasm and his agitation, trying to remain polite and formal, but he didn’t hesitate to attack her because, in his eyes, she represented the agency that made him lose thousands of dollars.
“What did you do this time? You got it banned from the bad channels that no one watches and you sold it to them.”

He wasn't ready to give her a chance to speak; she rubbed her eyes and forehead, trying to get him to give her a little chance to explain what she had done. “Look, Mr. Pearson, I know you didn’t have the best experience at Seaga,l but..”
“It wasn’t the best experience! It was the worst experience; I lost money, time, and a series that I actually made 55 episodes of that were shown on channels that no one knows existed.” He interrupted her, his mocking laughter overpowering his sarcastic tone.
She sighed softly, trying not to get emotional. She couldn’t lose him even if it meant bearing all the anger he held for the agency on her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pearson. I chose the wrong word. I know how much you’ve suffered dealing with the agency and lost a lot, but I’m offering you a chance to win again.”
“You must be crazy if you think I would give your agency any other work.”

She tapped the desk with her finger, a triumphant smile beginning to appear on her lips, she had succeeded in pulling him from his anger to talk about work. “But I’m not talking about another job, I’m talking about the same job you gave the agency.”
“What do You mean?” he asked after a moment’s silence.
The calming tone in his voice gave her a boost to explain. “I can make the Abyss work.”
His tone grew sharper, a categorical refusal justified by a loss of trust in the agency, and rightfully so. “There’s not a chance in hell I’ll give you the money again.” He paused, then added with angry decisiveness. “Not even a penny.”
She dropped her composure and took the one-chance-only approach. “You won’t give us money or anything else. All I want is an hour’s meeting, and then it’s all up to you.”
He was silent for a moment; she was optimistic that he was thinking about it, thinking it was the beginning of approval, or that is what she aspired to.
“What can you offer at this meeting to make up for what your agency did?”
She was waiting for the question, and she had the answer; she leaned back in her seat and turned around. “What she should have done first; market the telenovela in America and make the show a success.”
There was a full minute of silence, and then she heard a movement to get up and a long breath, followed by two words. “One hour.”
“All I wanted.”