Her cell phone rang and she latched on to Sadie’s incoming call like a lifeline. “Tell me to stop worrying incessantly.”
“Stop worrying incessantly,” Sadie parroted. “Is this about your hot boss?”
Crickitt needlessly lowered her voice. “I’m not answering that question.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Sadie said, a hard edge outlining her normally hard voice. “All men are bastards.”
She was tempted to agree.
“Did something happen between you and Aiden?” Crickitt asked.
Sadie was quiet for so long, Crickitt checked to see if her phone dropped the call.
“I called to tell you I can’t do drinks tomorrow,” Sadie said.
“Is everything okay?” Crickitt’s Spidey senses were tingling.
“Of course. I have to work, that’s all,” Sadie snapped.
Concern overtook her need to be polite. “And you and Aiden…?” she pressed.
“Are no more,” Sadie said tersely. “It had to end sooner or later.”
Crickitt knew her best friend was hiding something. There was a ribbon of sadness beneath Sadie’s attitude, she could feel it. Shane stepped into her office before she could quiz her further. She uttered a quick apology and promised, “We’ll talk later.”
She placed the phone on the cradle as Shane introduced the woman at his side. “Crickitt, this is Lori LaRouche, owner of—”
“LaRouche Cosmetics,” Crickitt finished, standing to extend a palm.
Lori removed her hand from Shane’s arm, almost reluctantly, and shook Crickitt’s hand.
“I’m familiar with your brand, Ms. LaRouche. All natural, no animal testing, chemical-free. It’s an impressive line of skin care.”
Lori curled her lip, assessing Crickitt as she would a spider skittering across her vanity.
“Lori has some ideas for her marketing campaign,” Shane said.
The request was unusual. Established clients were typically filtered to specialized teams within the company. Shane’s expertise was in landing clients, and he’d made it clear time and again that was his primary focus. Evidently he was making an exception for Lori LaRouche.
“Certainly,” Crickitt said, giving no hint she found the request odd. She gestured for Lori to sit in the chair across from her desk. “Ms. LaRouche, should I call down for coffee?”
“Lori,” she corrected. “No coffee,” she said, and then added with a feral curve of her lips, “but I’d love a martini.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Shane said, patting the door frame before heading back to his own office.
Crickitt lifted her phone and rang Keena’s desk. She wasn’t sure how easy it would be to scrounge up a bottle of gin, but surely Keena could—
“Front desk,” Keena answered.
“Hi, it’s Crickitt.” She sent a smile at Lori, but the meticulously dressed client was busy examining her nails and ignoring Crickitt entirely. “Is there any way I could get a—”
“Three blue cheese olive martini, extra dirty, straight up?” Keena finished.
“Um, yes, actually.”
“Coming right up.”
Minutes later, Keena arrived in the office balancing a very full glass in one hand. She placed a black cocktail napkin on Crickitt’s desk and rested the glass on top of it. Lori watched her every move, somehow managing to slide a look of disgust down her nose even though Keena was standing over her. Crickitt was beginning to think it was the way she looked at everyone.
“Thank you, Keena,” Crickitt said when it was apparent Lori wasn’t going to.
“You are welcome, Ms. Day.” Keena flashed one of her dazzling smiles, not looking the least bit bothered or intimidated, then turned to leave.
Maybe it’s just me.
After Keena had gone, Lori took a leisurely sip of her drink and let out a harrumph. “This will do,” she said on a heavy sigh.
Clearly, Lori LaRouche was used to getting what she wanted. A thought that made Crickitt scowl when she thought of Lori and Shane.
“Now,” Lori said to Crickitt, “let’s talk.”
Crickitt dutifully pulled a yellow pad in front of her and clicked her pen.
“Number one,” Lori began. “The labels look cheap. Get rid of the gold. Simple black and white. Number two, the bags. Earth-friendly and hideously ugly should not be synonyms. Kraft brown is for grocery bags, not LaRouche Cosmetics.”
“Got it.” Crickitt scribbled the information onto the pad. They sounded like simple requests but would require several quotes from alternate suppliers.