My input. I can do this. Color is something I understand well. But I look to Eugenie. She’s part of the company, and I’m just a contractor. She should speak first.
“Skye?”
I’m surprised when she defers to me.
“Hmm,” I say. “Number two says millennial pink to me. It’s a light blush color with just a hint of orange. Kind of like dogwood pink. It’s quite pretty, but when I think of the power of pink, it’s not really cutting it for me. Plus, even though Susie Girl is marketed to younger women, we don’t want to target just millennials.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Adrienne says. “What do you think of one and three?”
“Three is what I’d call fuchsia or magenta. It’s pretty close to the neon of the Make Things Happen that I wore in the original post. It’s beautiful, but I’d be hard pressed to pair it with some other colors.”
“Yes, yes,” she agrees again.
“What do you think, Eugenie?” I ask.
“Color is the art department’s baby,” she says. “And yours, of course. You have an excellent photographer’s eye, Skye.”
Okay, maybe she’s not upset with me after all. I can’t be the first independent contractor to refuse to sign already prepared documents.
“Number one…” I let the color sink into my mind. “It’s… It’s gorgeous, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s a little watermelon, with…”
“Rosewood. Just a touch of brown.”
“It’s perfect. It’s definitely pink, but that addition of brown gives it the neutrality you’re looking for. This color exudes happiness yet will go with any color wardrobe. How did you do it?”
“It’s my job.” Adrienne smiles.
“I miss that part of being an artist,” I say. “As a photographer, I have to work with the colors of my subject. Yes, I can edit, and I can manipulate the lighting, but to create a new color…”
“Nothing’s stopping you from getting into art,” she says.
“Well…I am. Photography is my first love, but color mixing has always fascinated me. Thank you so much for letting me be a part of this process.”
“You came up with the slogan.”
“I was simply having a bad day, and I put on some nail polish.”
“And it made you feel better?” Adrienne asks.
Did it? I guess it did. It all led to this moment, anyway. The breakups with Braden and Tessa seem far in the past now.
“Yes,” I reply. “It made me feel better. A lot better.”
“And that’s the power of pink,” Eugenie chimes in. “I think we’re all agreed that number one is the way to go. When will this be on the shelves?”
“That’s up to manufacturing, purchasing, and distribution, of course,” Adrienne says, “but we’re hoping within a month, now that the color has been chosen. You and Skye should begin devising the social media campaign.”
Eugenie closes the file folder in front of her. “We’re on it. Thanks, Adrienne. This is a gorgeous color. I agree with Skye. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like it.”
“We’re pretty proud of it. Thank you both for your input.”
I glide out of the art department alone with Eugenie. This has been fun.
Of course, now we have to get back to the trademark of the susieglow hashtag.
“Tell you what,” Eugenie says. “I can probably have the new hashtag paperwork drawn up by this evening. I’ll bring it to our dinner date. I’m sure you’d like Braden to look it over.”
I drop my mouth open. I haven’t even told Braden about any of this. “There’s no need. I can stop by and sign it in the morning.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to have this put to bed sometime today. I’ll bring it to dinner.”
“Of course, whatever’s easier for you.”
Odd. If anything, Braden will be more stringent than I am. But whatever. I love the pink that Adrienne and her team created, and I’m excited about The Power of Pink campaign.
Things are good.
…
Back at Braden’s Manhattan penthouse, I wait patiently. He’s probably at his New York office, and I don’t expect him before six at the earliest. Dinner reservations are at eight. No staff is here, so I help myself to a bottle of sparkling water from his fridge and think about what to wear for dinner.
I jerk when the elevator doors open.
It’s only three p.m., but in walks Braden.
And he doesn’t look happy.
“Skye,” he says simply.
“Braden.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you and Eugenie for dinner this evening.”
“Oh? Why not?”
He inhales. “Something has come up.”
“What?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Braden, anything that concerns you concerns me.” I draw in a breath. “Is Addison still stalking you?”
His eyebrows nearly fly off his forehead, but he doesn’t answer.
“Come on. She has to be. Either that or she’s stalking me. Or both of us. How else would she know all the things she knows? How else would she have ended up at the convenience store across from Tessa’s place the other night?”