The Business Pitch

"Let us make a toast to dear Marshall."

"To Marshall!"

The clinking of champagne glasses rattled in my ears as I was toasted. It was weird, no one had ever made a toast to me before. As a matter of fact, I had never experienced a toast; I had only seen them in movies. My heart rate picked up when my name was mentioned, and a nervous sweat slid down my forehead. I cracked my knuckles, a great way to relieve stress. Tonight would be dedicated to me, I needed to relax. I picked my glass up from the table and took a swig. Suddenly, someone's hand clamped on my right shoulder, making me wince.

"Marshall! How lovely to see you!"

I looked at the man with a surprised expression on my face. It was Dave Elderberry, my coworker.

"Lovely? To see me?"

"But of course! This dinner is in your honor, is it not?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

Dave had not once acknowledged my presence other than the occasional run-in at work. This was the longest conversation I'd had with him, and we were merely a few words in.

"Well, see you around my friend, I'm off to refill my drink."

"See you later, Dave."

Dave walked away, hobbling every so often. I guess the explanation for his friendliness was that he was a tad tipsy. 

I put my hand in my suit pocket, feeling for the notecards I had prepared. I knew my speech would be any moment now, and the dread was welling up inside me. I had written the speech just yesterday, and it took up exactly seven notecards. I wanted to keep it short and sweet, while at the same time expressing my gratitude and hope for the future to come. After all, I had pitched a potentially million dollar idea.

“And without further ado, I welcome to the stage Marshall Wells!”

That was my cue. I stood up from my seat at the table and walked briskly to the stage door. I was handed a microphone along with a brief “break a leg”. 

I inhaled, glanced at my notecards, and cracked my knuckles.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, my name is Marshall Wells. Well actually, you probably already know that, considering she just said that.”

Laughter came from the audience. They were laughing. At me. Wait, not at me, but at what I said. They thought I was funny. A felt a sensation of excitement and chills. I had never felt like this. Like I was making people laugh. All of a sudden, the notecards I had prepared just ceased to exist. I wanted to make more jokes. Have them think I’m funny.

“I was the one that will make all of you rich with my idea. You’re welcome, by the way.”

More laughter.

I continued to blabber on and on, cracking jokes left and right. It felt so good, I never wanted to stop. They all thought I was funny. 

“But really, I am so, so very thankful for all of you folks, and this great opportunity. Especially thanks to you, Gertrude.”

Gertrude was the elderly secretary who could never remember anything anyone told her, but everyone still loved her. I winked from onstage, although she probably didn’t see. 

I was starting to really enjoy myself by then. The nerves had faded away completely, and I was on fire.

“And I took that one to heart, you know? Oh, I’m just kidding! Anyway, that reminds me-”

“You stole my pitch!”

The room went silent, and everyone’s gaze was fixed upon the person who just shouted. 

“Excuse me?”

“You. Stole. My. Pitch.”

I looked further into the mass of people, and I saw who was standing up.

Oh. My. God.

It was Gertrude. Gertrude, the senior citizen. Gertrude, the woman I had winked at from onstage.

“That was my original pitch. You were the only person I told, and I didn’t even pitch it to our boss. I trusted you. But you stole it from me.”

Now all eyes were on me. They wanted me to respond. To say that I definitely did not do that. Or to say something funny like, “Have you taken your meds lately Gertrude?”

But I couldn’t say that.

Because I had stolen Gertrude’s pitch. 

I had been so scared and so nervous that someone would find out, or that I’d get exposed. And my fear came true. Now everyone knows.

I didn’t think she would have said anything. I thought she would’ve forgotten what she said. I thought she wasn’t being serious. 

I was in deep trouble. Oh no. 

“Gertrude, can we- can we talk somewhere else? I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding.” 

I could tell my face was reddening, and my breathing was sharp. Sweat started to drip from my face. My voice was weak and cracking. They were going to see right through me.

“Whatever you have to say, say it in front of everyone. Tell them the truth.”

I had never seen this side of Gertrude before. Usually she was talking about her grandkids, or just zoning out. She seemed like a sweet, innocent, grandma. Where had this professional business woman come from? 

“I-I…”

Should I admit it? I would forever be looked down upon if I did. But if I denied it? They would still find out, one way or another. That’s so much worse than if I just admit it now.

I stared at my shoes, and breathed into the mic.

“I did. I stole your pitch. I’m sorry Gertrude.”

“You’re only sorry you got caught! If I hadn’t said something, you would have taken all the glory and credit. Shame! Shame on you, Marshall!”

The eyes in the crowd were fixated on me like daggers. I was so terribly, horribly embarrassed. I wanted to sink into the ground, and never return.

“And you know what? You probably weren’t taking me seriously! God, no one here does. Not a single one of you! I’m done. I quit!”

My mouth opened. Gertrude, the employee of twenty plus years, was quitting. And it was my fault, too. Now I felt really bad. The guilt spilled out of me.

“Gertrude, wait! Please, don’t quit! I’m sorry!”

She grabbed her purse, stood up, and walked out of the room. And she wasn’t coming back. 

The scowls I received were the worst of it. I awkwardly came offstage. I just stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Marshall.”

“Yes?”

My boss came up to me. The man who put together this whole dinner, and celebrated “my” wonderful pitch.

“You’re fired.”

“Yes, sir.”

I deserved it. I mean, what was I thinking? Stealing from a woman who had done no wrong? I’m a terrible person. 

I left the dinner, leaving my pride behind. I had just wrecked a night for all those people. I went to my office, and cleared out my stuff. I was too ashamed to say my goodbyes, I was here one day and gone the next.

That night, I looked up some jobs in states far away. I am leaving this city, this town, this state. And I’m leaving the past with it.