The meeting dragged on, each point meticulously dissected. Bob questioned our stock levels, our usage rates, probing for weaknesses.
My responses were measured, careful not to reveal too much or too little.
“We need to understand why your turnover isn’t matching projections,” Bob stated, his eyes fixed on me.
“We’ve had delays with some shipments,” I replied, trying to keep my tone even.
Bob’s assistant jotted down notes, her pen scratching against the paper, a sound that seemed to echo in the room.
The conversation shifted to the possibility of cutting supplies, a move that would cripple our production.
“We can’t afford that,” I interjected, my voice betraying a hint of desperation.
Bob regarded me with a level gaze, unyielding.
“We’ll see,” he replied, echoing my earlier words.
The meeting ended with no clear resolution, only a promise of further discussions.
I left the room feeling adrift, the uncertainty hanging over me like a cloud.
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