My marketing campaign had been a disaster. Lucien hadn’t even used my test concepts. He had gone in a completely different direction with Amelia as the face. I might even be losing my job. Everything I’d worked for, thrown away.
I walked back to the bedroom, moving quietly. It was only five in the morning, but I hadn’t slept.
Amelia was in bed, her breathing soft and even. She’d come home late last night from the photoshoot and showed me the check Lucien had given her.
Eight million euros.
I still couldn’t process it. My wife had earned eight million euros for a single day of work.
I was so proud of her. So in awe of her charisma, her beauty, her natural talent in front of the camera.
She could do things I’d never thought possible. What a fool I’d been.
Even while she was at home, dedicating her entire life to my happiness and the kids’ happiness, that hadn’t diminished her competence or her potential. She’d chosen to focus on family, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of so much more.
And I’d assumed she was happy being a PTA mom who did pottery on the side. I’d never asked what she wanted. Never encouraged her to dream bigger.
What a dickhead I was.
I resolved right then: if Amelia gave me another chance, I would have open discussions with her about what she wanted. I wouldn’t assume anything. I would bend over backward to make her wishes come true.
But would she even be with me?
Restless, unable to sleep after spending the night staring at the hickies on Amelia’s neck, I went to my work desk and opened my laptop.
An email from Lucien sat at the top of my inbox. Addressed to the entire global marketing team.
I swallowed hard, bracing for bad news about my job.
Instead, I read:
Team,
I want to take a moment to praise Mark Davis for his vision for the Femme Fatale lipstick brand. I want to commend Mark for openly encouraginghis wife, Amelia Davis, to be the face of our brand. Her authentic beauty and confidence embody everything we want Femme Fatale to represent. She is the real woman’s woman—and she will take this brand to unprecedented heights.
This campaign will establish us as the cosmetics brand for real women everywhere.
— Lucien
I stared at the screen, rereading the words.
Lucien was praising me. For encouraging Amelia.
There was another email, this one just to me:
Mark,
You’ve shown remarkable professionalism in supporting Amelia’s involvement in this campaign despite our... complicated circumstances. Many men would have created problems. You did not.
Effective immediately, you’re receiving a significant raise and a performance bonus. Consider it recognition for your vision—and your grace.
— L
I sat back, trying to understand what I just read.
Lucien was paying me more because I hadn’t interfered with his pursuit of my wife. Because I hadn’t made problems when Amelia became the face of the campaign.
He liked Amelia that much.
