We exchange puzzled glances. Aside from Beatrice, nobody should know about our fledgling venture yet.
When I pull open the door, my jaw nearly hits the floor. Wendy stands in our doorway, designer handbag slung over one shoulder, sporting an impish grin.
“What are you doing here?” My voice pitches higher with surprise.
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she shrugs. “I...quit Lanter Bridge. Thought you might need an extra brain around here.”
I yank her into a fierce hug. “You have no idea how much work we’re drowning in with only three weeks to go. But”—I pull back, searching her eyes—“are you absolutely sure about this?”
“Positive.” Her confident smile puts me at ease. “Things are nuclear at Lanter. Tim got the boot, but Amanda somehow slithered out of consequences, claiming she was ‘just following orders.’”
Jake joins us at the door, his expression brightening. “We’re beyond glad to have you.”
The next three weeks pass in a blissful blur of creative chaos. Our tiny office transforms into a perfume war room—fragrance samples lining the windowsill, competitor analyses papering the walls, and takeout containers marking our late-night strategy sessions. My original virtual reality concept had been solid, but with Wendy’s visual expertise and Jake’s strategic brilliance, we push beyond into uncharted territory.
Instead of just selling scent, my breakthrough comes at 2 a.m., staring at a constellation of sticky notes: “Scent Memories”—an interactive campaign where consumers create personalized digital memory capsules triggered by distinct notes in the perfume. Each bottle contains a unique QR code unlocking their private gallery where they can store photos, voice messages, and milestone moments that the fragrance will forever remind them of—making Étoile not just a luxury purchase, but a time capsuleof their most precious memories. The scent becomes not just what they smell, but who they are.
Exactly three weeks and four days after Wendy appeared at our doorstep like a marketing guardian angel, our office door rattles with a crisp, authoritative knock that halts the frantic shuffling of our last-minute preparations. My heart leaps into my throat. All three of us freeze, eyes locking in a silent triangle of panic and anticipation.
Jake’s broad shoulders straighten as he crosses the room, his hand hesitating for just a heartbeat before turning the knob.
The door swings open to reveal Beatrice Castellano in all her fashion glory, her tailored charcoal suit practically radiating influence and old money. Her gaze sweeps our modest space—the repurposed dining table scattered with mockups, the mood boards taped haphazardly to exposed brick walls.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” she says, settling into the chair at the head of our table. Her manicured fingers lace together atop her crossed knees as she fixes us with an attentive stare that simultaneously encourages and terrifies.
I glance at my partners and we exchange nods, then launch into the presentation we’ve rehearsed until we could recite it in our sleep. The story of Étoile’s “Scent Memories” unfolds like a choreographed dance between us. Jake opens with market positioning and brand architecture, his confident baritone setting the foundation. My contribution weaves the emotional narrative—how fragrance becomes the invisible thread connecting our most precious memories. Wendy’s visual concepts bring it all to vivid life, her peppy enthusiasm infectious as she reveals the mockups of personalized memory capsules.
When the last slide fades, silence descends like a heavy curtain. Beatrice’s expression remains neutral, her red lips pressed into an unreadable line. The quiet stretches until it feelslike a fourth presence in the room that grows heavier with each passing second. My fingernails dig into my palms behind my back.
As though sensing my rising panic, Jake’s warm hand finds mine, his thumb tracing reassuring circles against my skin.
“Well,” Beatrice finally says, her voice releasing the tension in me, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned about whether you could match your previous concept, but you’ve exceeded expectations. I love it.”
For the first time since she arrived, her composed facade cracks, revealing a genuine smile that transforms her entire face. “This campaign captures exactly what I envisioned for the brand. I suspected you had potential when I met you, but this work is exceptional.”
Relief floods through me so powerfully my knees would buckle if it weren’t for Jake’s hold on me. He squeezes my hand again, and when I turn to meet his gaze, his boyish grin mirrors the elation I can’t contain.
“When can you start?” Beatrice asks.
Jake’s response comes immediately. “As soon as you give the word.”
Gathering her sleek leather portfolio, Beatrice stands with her customary grace. “Good. Let’s make magic happen.” At the door, she pauses, turning back toward us. “My assistant will send the contract tomorrow. I’m eager to see this campaign come to life.”
The moment the door clicks shut behind her, Wendy lets out a squeal that probably violates noise ordinances, throwing herself at me in a hug that nearly topples us both. “We did it! We actually freaking did it!”
His eyes wide with disbelief, Jake runs both hands through his hair, leaving it adorably disheveled. “We just landed Beatrice Castellano as our first client,” he says, as though he can’t believe it yet.
“What’s next for us?” Wendy asks, practically vibrating with excitement as she bounces on her toes.
Jake’s eyes sparkle with possibilities. “A proper office, for starters. Maybe a few more talented minds to join the team.” His gaze finds mine, softening at the edges. “Build something amazing—together.”
“Definitely a bigger space,” Wendy agrees, glancing knowingly between us. “You two lovebirds need a room where I don’t have to watch you make eyes at each other all day.”
The three of us linger, dreaming aloud about the future possibilities that stretch before us. We talk of expansion and innovation, of clients and campaigns, of the life we’re creating all on our own terms.
And as for Jake and I... We’re each other’s first everything—first crush, first hand holding, first kiss, first heartbreak, and most importantly, first love. With mended hearts and big dreams, we will continue from where we left off. I don’t ever want to be apart from him again and judging by the longing in his eyes as he smiles at me, I know in my heart he feels the same way.
Epilogue
