It must be wonderful to have someone who understands you that way.
I circle the table, distributing the handouts relevant to the next part of the presentation. Anya has already given them out on her side of the conference table, leaving me to hand them to Andre and the other members of his company.
There’s Jason Gautier, a tall, blond man who I remember from my notes is the Chief Operating Officer and a pinch-faced woman I’ve never seen. She regards me icily before turning her attention back to the front.
As I approach Andre, I look for an excuse not to get too close to him. Finally, I place the handout on the table but he reaches out and takes it so our fingers brush. I snatch my hand back at the contact, determined to ignore the thrill of his touch. It’s an impossible task, especially since I know what those strong, slender fingers are capable of.
Andre regards me thoughtfully before speaking to the rest of the group.
“Let’s test it out.”
Everyone at the table turns to face him. I back up and stand off to the side. I’m not sure what the next section of the program is about but it won’t hurt for me to stay out of the way.
Milo and Mya exchange confused looks. James shifts in his seat. He opens his mouth but after a glance at Andre’s determined face, he stays silent.
“I want to finalize the marketing campaign before the holidays. Our art department also needs time to make changes to our print advertising planned for Fashion Week early next year.” Andre runs his hands over his hair and sighs. “We’re wasting time we don’t have.”
“What do you mean test it out?” Mya asks. “Do you want us to set up a focus group and survey different demographics–”
Andre stands. “No time for that. This is the third slogan we’ve tried, so I think it’s time we get a little creative. Besides, we have a member of our prime demographic group right here.”
Then he turns toward me and smiles.
“I don’t feel so lucky anymore,” I mutter under my breath.
13
* * *
I walk over to Casey and take her by the hand. Eyes wide, she follows me to the front of the room.
“Oh my god, I should have known you were pissed about Saturday night. This is how you get your revenge, huh? Men and their egos,” she hisses before smiling nervously at everyone watching.
“Stop fidgeting,” I whisper.
Finally she stops moving and folds her hands in front of her nervously. I walk over to the computer running the presentation and use the mouse to navigate back to one of the campaign images previously displayed. It depicts a young man wearing a sleek, black suit. The slogan “Livin’ the Lavin Life” is splashed across the top of the photo in red.
“When you see this advertisement, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?”
Casey looks terrified before glancing over her shoulder at me. When she sees I’m legitimately waiting for her answer, she tu
rns back to the photo.
“Um…I don’t know. This is my first advertising job. I don’t know much about this stuff.”
When I notice her glancing over her shoulder again, I follow her gaze. Everyone is watching us. Mya looks nervous whereas Milo seems amused. James, on the other hand, seems furious. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate how I’ve taken over his meeting.
I lean a little closer to Casey. “Uh-uh, piccolina. Don’t look at them, look at the picture. Just tell me how it makes you feel.”
Casey heaves a great sigh. I wonder what she sees when she looks at this. I see a man who is thin, handsome and dark-haired, the typical look of a male fashion model. The colors are vibrant and there is a diverse group of people in the background. Still, there is something off about the whole thing.
And I can’t articulate what it is.
When Casey sees me staring at her, waiting, she shrugs. “The ad is perfect. It’s fun and energetic. There’s nothing wrong with the ad.”
After a few moments of silence, she follows that with, “It’s just not what I would associate with you.”
Behind us James lets out a soft groan. There are a few soft titters of laughter. Casey looks over her shoulder and cringes.