He’d been late to the meeting because his muscles were tight and sore, and he’d gone to get a massage. Today, in the middle of the workday. If I was Payton, I would have told him how ridiculous that sounded, but because I was me, and because he couldn’t see, I rolled my eyes and hurried to my desk.
I tore the box open and pulled the case card out, admiring the glossy sheen finish the new clients had splurged on. It seemed silly to be proud of a printed piece of cardboard that advertised a bottle of vodka, but I had worked so hard to marry together the concepts the client wanted. It was eye-catching and stunning. Even Logan had said so in critique, his gaze falling to mine that day in the conference room. I had decided I disliked him a little less then, until he laid into another designer’s piece and had sent her home in tears.
A sensation of alarm trickled through me. Something was wrong. The printer had gotten the colors just right, perfect for the branding I was going for. Was the shadow off? A typo in the tagline? I had proofed it endlessly, surely that wasn’t it. What was it that made my mouth go dry?
My gaze continued downward through the advertisement, down to the bottom, searching . . . That was where I found it, the horrible mistake that would put me out of a job. How the hell had this happened? In a panic I flew to my keyboard and searched through emails, terrified to confirm what I already knew was true.
I stared at the screen for an unknown amount of time in disbelief that I had been so stupid. And then an even longer time trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. Not only did I need this job, but I loved it. I’d do anything to keep it.
Shaky legs carried me to the doorway of Logan’s office.
“Do you have a second?” My nervous voice drew his eyes up, and he nodded. I held the case card sample in one hand and used the other to shut his door, indicating how serious our conversation was about to be.
“I made a mistake,” I breathed out, clutching the cardboard so hard it started to bend under my grip.
“What did you do?” It wasn’t accusatory, more concerned.
“This is the sample for Player’s.” I set the board in front of him and sank down into the chair opposite his desk. Long fingers picked it up, and his chocolate-colored eyes scrutinized every inch of it. Like me, he couldn’t spot it right away. He searched for a typo in the tag, and when he came up empty, he dropped down to the legal disclaimer at the bottom.
The cardboard dropped silently to the desktop, and his face filled with anger. “How the hell did that happen?”
“Player’s is a new client, so I didn’t have their brand guidelines when I started building. I grabbed a legal off someone else’s artwork to use as a placeholder until I had it. I thought I had updated it, but . . . I didn’t.”
“Of course you grabbed their competitor’s legal line.”
It wasn’t possible for him to be any angrier with me than I was with myself. It didn’t matter that the customer had signed off on the proof I’d sent them. The customer was always right, and there was no way they were going to pay for twenty thousand pieces of advertisement they couldn’t use.
“Call the printer and get estimates on stickers to cover that,” he barked, and ran a hand through his hair.
“I already thought of that, but we can’t.”
He looked closer at the sample. “Shit.”
The legal was positioned just so on the background that the stickers would have to be perfectly placed by hand to hide it. That kind of labor would be too expensive. It’d be cheaper to just print 20,000 new ones. And using the sticker would alert everyone to what a dumbass I’d been, including the brand new client, who’d probably bolt.
“I need to ask,” I said, a tremble in my voice, “for a really big favor.”
It was like I’d just told him I loved the font Comic Sans.
“What do you need?”
What I needed was to fix this mistake and keep my job. Agency jobs were hard to come by, and freelancers were making the design industry more competitive every year. I’d made tough choices before, and I could do it again.
“No one knows about this. I need you to have the printer destroy these before they go out tomorrow.”
“That’s a given, not a favor.”
“I need you to place a rush order for 20,000 more, with the correct legal.”
“I think the customer’s going to notice an extra ten grand on their bill.” His long, elegant face twisted with sarcasm.
“No,” I said, my voice fading into almost nothing, “they won’t, because I’m going to pay for it.”
“What? You’re not going to do that.” Confusion made his eyes a shade darker.
“You and I are the only ones who’ll know.” I hated that he’d be able to hold it over me, but right now I had to focus. I needed his help. “If Player’s finds out, they’ll walk and my head will roll.”
“Maybe that’s what should happen.”