“A comprehensive approach to wedding planning that incorporates technology,” I said vaguely, gathering my portfolio. “Anyway, how was the client meeting at the country club yesterday?”
Mari’s eyes lit up, her suspicion momentarily forgotten. “They loved the venue! And my idea to incorporate both families’ traditions in separate ceremonial spaces that converge for the reception? The parents almost cried.” She beamed, and I surprised myself by smiling. “They’re signing the contract tomorrow.”
“That’s great.”
“Thanks.”
We walked toward the parking lot, our conversation shifting to other clients and upcoming events. The knot in my stomach loosened. Maybe I could figure out a way to make this right, to incorporate Mari’s ideas while giving her proper credit.
As we reached the parking lot, I opened Mari’s car door for her without thinking.
“What’s this?” She raised an eyebrow. “The asshole has manners?”
“It’s called basic courtesy, Landry. You know that urge you give in to every time you call me a name? Yeah, it’s like if you resisted it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for opening the door,Hudson.” She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat but didn’t get in. Instead, she turned to face me, so close I could count her eyelashes. “Seriously though, congratulations on Modern Wedding. That’s... impressive.”
I swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
“Just know that when I’m featured next year, my spread will be way better than yours.” She flashed a cocky grin.
“In your dreams, maybe.”
“My dreams involve much more interesting scenarios than magazine layouts.” She slid into the driver’s seat with a smirk. “Most of which involves you in a very different position.”
“What kind of position?”
“On your knees, bowing before me.” She pulled the door shut, but rolled down her window. “Good luck with your consultation, Gable.” Mari drove off before I could respond.
Later that night, I was still at the shared office, staring at my computer screen. I’d been trying to create my own version of Mari’s app concept for hours, but everything I came up with felt hollow and inferior. I rubbed my eyes, considering my options. I could confess to Eleanor that the ideas weren’t mine. I could tell Mari what I’d done and face her fury. Or I could continue down this path of deception and hope to develop something similar enough to pass inspection.
My phone buzzed. Mari.
Still at the office? Your car’s in the lot.
Finalizing some details from my consultation earlier.
Well, I’m outside with tacos and beer. Left my keycard at home. Buzz me in.
I glanced at my computer screen where Mari’s app mockups were displayed, quickly closing the files before heading to the front door.
Mari stood there holding a paper bag that smelled divine and a six-pack of craft beer. “You know, there’s this revolutionary concept called ‘going home after work.’ You should try it sometime.”
“Says the woman who’s also here at ten PM,” I countered, stepping aside to let her in.
“I was visiting a vendor nearby and saw your car.” She strode into the office as if she owned it, setting the food on my desk. “Figured you might be hungry.”
“Thanks.” I cleared a space, careful to keep my notes on the Modern Wedding pitch hidden beneath a folder.
“What are you working on so intently?” She peered at my desk, and I casually placed my arm over the folder.
“Just the usual. You know how it is.” I grabbed a beer, twisting off the cap. “How was the rest of your day?”
“Boring.” She unwrapped a taco and handed it to me. “Devonna, Anica’s assistant, called, and we talked about some expansion stuff.The bank still doesn’t want to give us a loan, and I’m feeling like I’m the lame kid no one wants to play with at recess.”
“I doubt you were ever lame.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re right. Nevertheless, the point remains. I need to figure out how to convince that asshole Radfordt that we’re worthy of a loan.”
