“Thanks, Leo. I swear I’ll eventually get us a break.”
“I know you will. And let me know if you ever need a place to stay. Jake wouldn’t mind you staying with us.”
“Thanks, Leo.”
Hanging up, I continue going over my short notes from the meeting. I barely got to tell her my opening line before she started taking calls and ignoring me. How do I keep someone’s attention?
It’s hard to focus on work when your personal life is all twisted up.
I hate drama. I really do. There should be a screening process and background check done on men before they’re allowed to date someone. All that information should go to the woman considering a relationship. That would be a great way to avoid lunatics like Pete.
“How’d your meeting go?” Kode asks as he walks in, loosening his tie while dropping off his briefcase by the bedroom door.
He apparently has to work late some nights.
“It… went.” That’s all I can stomach divulging. It’s hard to distribute a line of cosmetics when no one will even look over your proposal. Five minutes into the meeting, the woman was standing, making up a lame excuse as to why she was cutting our visit short. Then I was shown out of the office by a very smug secretary who seemed to revel in my misery.
He comes to drop beside me on the bed, and I snuggle over to him. It has been three days since Pete Mercer showed up and rocked my world, but Kode has been amazing. It’d be really easy to get used to seeing him like this.
As his arms slide around me, he tugs me to him. “You want to show me your proposal? I can look it over and see if I can point out anything you might need to adjust for maximum potential.”
It’s like he actually cares, which is making me grin like a fool. “No. I need you to tell me how to keep people interested long enough to make it to the proposal portion of the meeting.”
He frowns as he looks down at me.
“I can do that, Tria. Whenever you want.”
Wearing only one of his T-shirts and my panties, I roll over to straddle his waist, staring down at him as I prepare to recite my presentation. “Beauty Graffiti has been developed by some of the—”
“I’ll buy in,” he says, grinning down at the lacy red panties his fingers are strumming over.
Rolling my eyes, I continue, “Has been developed by one of the industries newest and brightest minds. It’s a mineral compound that guarantees anything from light acne coverage to fine line coverage that is only found in products that cost twice as much to manufacture—”
“You need to move that to the front of your entry,” he says more seriously, running his hands up and down my legs. “If they know they have a good product for half the price, they’re immediately intrigued. Lead with that, and have valid proof ready to show them. Maybe a binder with that as the first, non-introductory page. That’s what would sell me. Don’t mention the one who manufactured it unless you have a name worth dropping. That’s essentially saying you have someone no one has heard of yet.”
That’s actually helpful, and I lean over to grab my phone and make a note of it. He grins up at me as I finish typing it into my notepad app, and then I put my phone back down.
“Keep going,” he says.
His fingers start tracing lines on my legs as I continue, trying to remember the rest of my key points.
“The urban style packaging will appeal to anyone from ages thirteen to forty—”
“Age gap is too much. Slim it down, since it sounds unrealistic. Even if you have studies to prove it, it still seems too farfetched, and it will make them apprehensive about trusting any of your other information.”
Again I make a note, because that makes perfect sense. “Thirteen to thirty?” I ask.
“Better. You can always add styles to represent other ages, then add that to your explanation as to why the age gap is so vast.”
I grin down at him and brush my lips over his in a silent show of appreciation.
“Keep going,” he prompts, and I do. I finish the entire speech, only pausing for him to insert his notes. It’s amazing how much better my opening sounds by the time he has it tweaked. What I wouldn’t do to constantly have him around to bounce ideas off of.
He has built numerous businesses, so I trust he knows exactly what he’s doing. And he’s explanatory, giving details as to why certain things should be omitted or should be expanded upon. He shifts the order of some things around, and by the time we’re finished, it’s a masterfully prepared presentation.
What I thought was going to be a playful bed conversation, turns into a two hour event, and I’m excited instead of nervous about my business for once. We’ve broken out a bottle of wine, spread out a makeshift workspace on the bedroom floor, and turned this into a fun tweaking session.
He helps me rearrange my binders, sitting with me and talking about the graffiti styled casing, brushes, and bags that go with it. He’s actually wowed with the visual appeal, because he believes it’s definitely going to catch eyes.