We all nodded. And that’s when Victoria’s beady eyes found me… again. Okay, they weren’t really beady, but her vibe was definitely sketchy—she was not on my side… yet. Maybe she just took a while to warm up to people? Or maybe she just found me super annoying. “Faith, I was happy with the work you turned in, but I have to say, it looks familiar. You haven’t copied any existing campaigns from other agencies, have you?”
I swallowed the block of concrete lodged in my throat. Of course my work was recognizable. Every artist and copywriter had their own style. You could bend your style to the brief and target audience, but you inevitably left a small mark of yourself every time. If she’d twigged that I’d worked at Piranha, my lies would explode in my face faster than one of those space-age, compressed mattresses being cut out of its packaging—those things could do major damage. Also, was I allowed to talk? Hmm…. Best to be safe. I shook my head.
Victoria’s chest rose and fell with a huge, give-me-patience breath. “Please elaborate.”
I thought about how I could mime it. Everyone was staring. I was taking too long. Okay, so I probably couldn’t elaborate by charades. I tried to be subtle about wiping the sweat from my philtrum–that groove between your upper lip and nose. Society didn’t use that word nearly enough. Victoria opened her mouth—probably to berate me again—but I cut her off. “It might look familiar because I studied your house style closely. I wanted to make sure my work blended in, rather than stood out. I definitely haven’t copied anyone’s work. I can rewrite anything you’re nothappy with.” Oh my God, I’d managed to sound not crazy.Yay me!
She nodded slowly, her eyes slightly narrowed, as if she didn’t totally believe me. Eventually, she got bored with assessing me, and I couldn’t blame her. She looked back at the others. “Right, team, these are the changes we need.”
The whole time she was explaining things, it was hard to concentrate. I could see Curtis out of the corner of my eye, looking at me every now and then. His gaze had me wanting to meet it and run away at the same time. He might not have remembered my name before, but he surely wouldn’t forget it now. And I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing.
If I wanted to keep my job, I’d better learn to fly under the radar, not into it.
CHAPTER 8
CURTIS
It was Friday, the end of an exhausting week, and I was doing the two-hour drive to my parents’ weekender in The Hamptons for our usual family dinner. I had my overnight bag—I needed to clear my head, and a weekend by the beach was just the ticket. Even though talking to my father wasn’t any way to relax, I could avoid him by going for a run and then hiding at a nearby café with my siblings.
Part of what had made me tired this week was hating myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about Donut Girl, even though nothing could ever happen. An unwanted smile forced itself onto my face when I thought about our boardroom interaction. The way she babbled when she was nervous, and those gorgeous eyes I couldn’t help staring into. And that body—tall, long-legged, all woman—curvy, plump tits and ass. Squeezable. She definitely had assets I wanted to grab. I’d even gone down to the kitchen on Wednesday morning for a donut—which I never did—hoping to see her. But Ionly saw a few of the marketing people, plus her boss, Destiny. I’d made small talk, trying to find out if she was on her way for a sweet treat, but I only found out that since our collision, Destiny was the one doing the donut runs. I’d obviously had some kind of effect on her. Hopefully it wasn’t all bad.
She’d been starry-eyed for some of the donut incident, but I’d been sufficiently assholish to her in the meeting, which I was pretty sure cured her of any crush she might’ve had. It was sad that the only woman to have really gotten my attention for a long time was off-limits.
I could admit I felt guilty keeping quiet when Victoria had given her a hard time, but as cute as Donut Girl was, we expected a certain professionalism at Knight Advertising, and I shouldn’t go soft because she made me hard. Yeah, so I’d had a couple of dreams about her that had me staining the sheets like a fifteen-year-old, but I put that down to not having had sex for six months. Women were hard work, and it was just easier to keep to myself while I was trying to prove myself at work. Not that abstaining had helped the company’s performance… apparently.
I was ten minutes away from my parents’ when my phone rang. I answered it on speaker. “Curtis here.”
“Hey, Curtis. It’s Sunshine Farraday. Have you got a minute to talk?”
Sunshine was one of the big stars we represented—Knight Advertising was a company that represented talent and ran company advertising campaigns. It was easier to negotiate deals between different companies and our stars, and it made us one of the biggest agencies in the world. She was a top box-office draw, one of the highest-earning female leads. We’d represented her since she was eighteen, before she’d hit the height of her current fame at twenty-five. I tamped down the uneasiness burrowing in my gut. Her tone was… off. Using my best relaxed voice, I said, “Always for you. What’s up?”
“I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m thinking of relocating when my contract is up in August.”
Silence.
Yep, I called it. I ignored the nausea sliding up my throat while I thought of how to respond. Who was I kidding? It couldn’t get worse, so I might as well be forthright. “Can I ask why?”
“I would prefer not to say, but you’ve represented me for so long that I feel I owe you an answer.” More silence as I concentrated on the darkness in front of me and pretended I didn’t want to crash my car into a tree. “Um… there have beenrumors.”
My hands ached as I strangled the steering wheel of my 911.Not again. “What rumors? There’s no hard feelings here.”Lies.“But I need to know what I’m dealing with. I would really appreciate it if you could enlighten me.” First our advertising clients, now this? What the fuck was going on?
“I’m not sure how to say it, but here goes. There’s a rumor going around that you pressured a young singer into sleeping with you to get representation, and when she refused, you threatened her and told her you’d make sure she was blackballed at all the other agencies. I’m sorry, Curtis, but I can’t in good conscience be associated with you after that.”
So many thoughts whipped furiously around my brain. “Who’s saying these things? You know it’s not true, right? I would never.”
“Of course you would say that.”
Anger burned through me. “Because it’s true. How long have you known me? Did I ever do that to you? Do you really think I’m that kind of a person?”
“I’m sorry, Curtis, but my dad wants me to cut ties—we can’t risk it. We won’t be renewing my contract. I wanted you to know ahead of time, so it didn’t blindside you.”
Oh, God, I had to salvage this. “But what if I can prove I didn’t do anything? Will you at least hold off making a decision till I can get to the bottom of it?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. We’ve started talking to other agents, and I don’t want them thinking I’m not serious. My dad wants to get me the best deal possible.”
This couldn’t be happening. I wanted to plead for her to just take a minute and give me a fair chance, but Knights didn’t beg. That was one of the first lessons my father taught us. Even if a deal was going down the drain, retain as much dignity as possible. Never let them see any weakness. “Right, I see.”
“Again, I’m sorry, Curtis. I have to go now. Bye.”
