“Talk as if; act as if,” he advised. “I think it’s interesting how America and China are polar opposite cultures,” she said.
“We’re egalitarian, China is hierarchical. Your company culture might override some of that at the office, though.”
“I’ve been reading up on the difference in values. Like we think it’s unethical to steal someone else’s intellectual property.”
“But they see it as efficiency to build on an existing idea,” he said.
“Right.”
“You’re a fast study.”
“Thanks.”
They navigated from Interstate 95 to the Garden State Parkway.
She paused to hum along with another obscure song. Sunlight brightened her face, deepening the blush of her lips.
Green expanses and mile markers whizzed by.
“Tell me everything about the assignment,” she said.
“This next set of ads is going to raise awareness for veterans, so they know where to turn for services. We’ll assign it to multiple creative teams. The agency is down a strategic planner—she’s on maternity leave—so your job will be writing the brief.”
“Sounds awesome. I already started looking at the earlier work online.”
“You’ve done your homework, excellent. The talent we’re meeting is amazing. She was in an explosion in Iraq, suffered a debilitating concussion. Now, she’s healed physically, but her invisible injuries are almost worse than visible ones. People around her don’t realize what might be going on inside. She’d find herself lashing out, or jumping at any little noise. And then, bit by bit, she found strategies that worked for her. All she wants to do now is tell her story to people like her, so they can find help, too.”
“What kind of strategies?”
“It’s what you’d expect: breathing exercises, meditation, therapy.”
“Unconditional love,” she added. “That’s my theory for what heals all.”
Phoenix glanced over at her bowed head. She appeared to be studying her nails.
Her emotions were killing him.
He was falling so hard.
“Yeah, try and see,” he responded.
CHAPTER9
A SHORE THING
Orchid
The work week had given Orchid the opportunity to reset her expectations.
With a belly full of wine, agreeing to the triathlon had seemed like a good idea. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
They pulled into a parking spot facing the beach. Racers in wetsuits milled about, along with spectators and athletes. A starting line along the street was marked with a white banner between two poles.
Phoenix unloaded his bicycle and deposited it with the others.
“Let me introduce you.” He led the way towards the beach, where groups of racers and onlookers chatted.
A gorgeous redhead, her body thick with strength, gave a wave. She wore a wetsuit, and she paused chewing her gum to grin at them.
