“Yes. That is totally it.” She exhaled loudly through her nose. “I also think there’s too much midwestern politeness in me. I grew up thinking that you weren’t supposed to put yourself out there. Be quiet, and be a hard worker, and don’t make too much trouble. Those photos feel like trouble.”
“If it helps at all, I think that trouble is going to make Lela B a massive success.” How he wanted to take her hand to comfort her, but he knew it wouldn’t play well, especially if Echo were to walk in. He and Lela were colleagues now. That was it. Well, they were friends, too, but that wasn’t the central role he played in her life anymore. “Also, I want to apologize. I was wrong. You and Echo were right. This was absolutely the correct call, and I think the campaign is going to be a massive success. That’s all because of you.”
“You’re not helping me feel any less self-conscious, you know.” She picked at one of her fingernails, dropping her head so that her hair tumbled perfectly over her shoulder. “But thank you. I do like hearing you say that you were wrong. I like it a lot.”
Echo reappeared, waltzing into her office in what was honestly the best mood Donovan had ever seen her in. “Dad, did Lela tell you that she’s doing my makeup for the wedding?”
“Actually, no. I didn’t know that.” He watched as Lela and Echo exchanged looks of pure affection. He’d seen that they were forging a bond, but it now seemed even stronger. “When did that happen?”
“At the photo shoot. I invited her to the wedding, too.”
“Oh, wow. Okay. Great.” But was this great? Maybe? Sort of?
“I told her she could ride up with us. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Donovan smiled and nodded like a good dad, realizing that Echo and Lela’s now-closer relationship made it that much more definitive—there would be no romance with Lela. Echo didn’t want it and neither did Lela. He had to shut the door on that forever.
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan walkedto and from work every day. The distance between his new apartment in the Murray Hill neighborhood and the JTI building was minimal by New York standards—only a twenty-minute jaunt since he had a pretty long stride. Normally, he used that time to decompress, but now that they were several days into the Lela B ad campaign, Lela was everywhere. In fact, he’d had to change his route completely to avoid certain spots where the sexy images of her in that dress were omnipresent, like along Broadway in the windows of the big cosmetics stores. And Times Square? That was a non-starter, and not just because there were entirely too many tourists for his liking. Lela’s face graced one of the electronic billboards, looming over him, reminding him of his shortcomings.
But one thing he hadn’t taken into account was the buses.
He was nearly to JTI, about to cross the street, when the light turned red. He and several dozen other people came to a halt, just as a bus pulled up to the curb to let off its passengers. And there was Lela plastered to the side of the metal transport, with her big blue eyes seductively boring into his soul, and her sumptuous hair blown back from her flawless face.
“Ugh. It’s that picture again,” a twenty-something man in a too-slim suit said.
“Seriously. Enough with the old lady side-boob. It’s everywhere,” his similarly-dressed companion added.
Donovan had never been the sort of person who got into fist fights, but he was seriously considering starting now. Could he take two guys at once? He might have to try. They were being so rude.
“I don’t know shit about makeup but do women really want to see their mom in an ad campaign?” the first man asked.
“Or their grandma,” man number two added.
Donovan willed the light to change, but it stubbornly remained optimistic Kelly green in the other direction and angry red in his. Something in him couldn’t let this go. He had to say something. “She’s not a grandma.”
“What did you say?” the first man asked.
“She’s not a grandma. The woman on the bus is not a grandma.”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
He knew he was about to sound exactly like a trifling old man, but he couldn’t let this go. “No. Hold on a minute. That woman is a friend of mine, I think she looks amazing, and she’s not a grandma. Not that it would matter if she was a grandmother. There’s nothing wrong with that. A grandma can still be sexy.”
“Whatever, grandpa.”
The light changed and the men brushed past him and started off across the street. The bus was long gone. And Donovan’s cheeks were dry and hot with fury.Punk-ass jerks.He silently blew out a breath and stormed through the crosswalk to JTI.
Upstairs at Echo Echo, things were always busy, but today there seemed to be a new level of hectic. The phones were ringing like crazy. People were darting down the hall, and in and out of offices. Donovan had no clue what was going on, but something was in the air.
Echo was on the phone when he stopped by her office to check in. As he darkened her doorway, she noticed and waved him in. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Just call me back.” She hit the screen on her phone and cast the device aside. It landed with a thud on a pile of papers.
“What’s going on?” Donovan asked.
“Everything’s falling apart.”
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Define everything.”
