Gemotions

The air conditioning blasted in the conference room, yet Richard felt a prickle of sweat on his forehead. He sat across the table from Emily, his rival for the position. He looked at her, at the composed expression, and his stomach lurched.

He’d spent the morning reviewing the presentation, the key points, the anecdotes. He could recite the entire thing backwards. But in this moment, every fact, every figure, seemed to have vanished from his mind. He took deep breaths. He looked at the window. He looked at the ceiling. The need to appear collected was paramount.

His fingers drummed against the table, a nervous rhythm that echoed in the otherwise quiet room. He had to be decisive and show his boss what he was capable of.