“I hope you’re as excited about your campaign.”
She pushed her empty plate aside and twisted one gold bangle around her slender wrist. “I can’t wait to show you the work.”
“Go for it,” he encouraged.
She pried open her satchel. It was studded with silver grommets.
Phoenix felt humor percolate.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”
“It’s just you’ve revamped your whole look to be this prim businesswoman, and then your true self comes through in that kick-ass bag.”
Orchid glanced from him to the dull spikes gleaming across its midnight-hued vegan leather, then she joined in his amusement. “Maybe I should give up the ruse. Do you know how hard it is to hoof it across town in a pencil skirt?”
“Harder than writing a brief?”
“Nope. But easier than pitching one.”
“Try me,” he encouraged.
“The project has been clear. We’re trying to reach military personnel who are experiencing PTSD, so they learn to recognize the symptoms and seek help. Without stigma. Sometimes, when people hit rock bottom, they feel like they’ll never get better, or nothing can help.”
He got up. He couldn’t stop himself. Her pain was evident in the scrunch of her forehead.
“You know how medical students think they have the disease they’re studying?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He drew closer until she was looking up at him, angst in the frozen angles of her face. In this moment, he wanted to hold her, makeherfeel better.
“PTSD symptoms are flashbacks, insomnia, nightmares, heightened reactions and avoidant behavior.” Her words slowed. Emotion tinged her cheeks pink.
Intuition told him what the issue was. He wanted to comfort her. “You don’t have to work on this.” He pointed to the printed page. He could write the brief himself.
She shook her head. “I want to. It’s my one chance to prove myself to Joan. To go to China, and make my mom proud.”
Orchid was a warrior. Her life’s inequity doubled his resolve to help her. He sank into the seat next to her. “I bet your mom was proud, is proud. And we can come up with some other project. Maybe REBBL.”
“You’re going to trust me with your plum project? I think you need a real strategic planner. Plus, there isn’t enough time. Joan’s going to be making her decision soon. Maybe even next week. I need at least one solid recommendation from this work to have a shot.”
“I feel like an ass putting you on this campaign. Like I’m torturing you.”
“It was my call, if you remember. You warned me that you couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be triggers. I just didn’t know that it’d be like looking in a mirror.”
“I’m sorry, Orchid. Do you want me to connect you with a specialist at the VA?”
“I didn’t come to you for a shrink.”
“What can I do then?”
“Help me to present this in the strongest way possible.” She pushed the paper towards him and began to explain the rationale for the recommendations, as if she were taking their client through the brief.
He listened as she walked through familiar sections: background, objectives, target, single-minded message, mandatories. She stunned him with the depth of insight into the audience for this work. She spoke with conviction, backed by facts. “And the talent is perfect,” she concluded. She turned her laptop towards him and played a video montage of Tammy’s experiences.
During the final bars of the music bed, Phoenix looked at her with wonder. “You’re hired,” he said.
“Quit joking.”
“I’m not. Your work’s in great shape. Both the content and the delivery. I think you’re onto something with how you’re presenting Tammy. Did you make that video?”
