Gemotions

“He’s got this,” David muttered under his breath, watching Liam stroll into the conference room. He felt a cold dread creep into his stomach. The presentation he had spent weeks perfecting suddenly seemed inadequate, riddled with holes. His palms began to sweat, slicking against the smooth surface of his desk. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more a sign of helplessness than an attempt to tidy up. He knew what Liam’s presentation would be. He knew Liam’s history. He knew, with a certainty that threatened to choke him, that he was outmatched.