Hayes laughed, and then his eyes narrowed, sly. “I’m wearing my boots.”
Beverly made some disapproving clucking sound with her mouth as she and Maggie began assembling their various wardrobe and shopping bags. “Leave the things hanging in your closet and I’ll make sure to press them before tonight. I’ll send someone up later to polish your boots.”
“Thank you, Bev. Ooh, whose suit is that?”
“That one is for Oliver.”
“How come Ol gets all the dandy suits? Maybe I want to be a dandy. Is he wearing a bow tie? I want a bow tie.”
“You want a bow tie now?”
“Maybe.”
“Lawd Jeezum.” Beverly’s Jamaican was coming out.
“I know, I know… I’m swagger,” he laughed, turning to find me in the corner. “Solène, did you know I was ‘swagger’? That’s my official archetype. Lest you think we were interchangeable. That’s what you think when you see me, right? You think, ‘Oh, he must be the swagger one.’”
I laughed at that. As did all the other women in the room. Hayes and his loyal subjects.
The business guy who had been consumed with his phone callup until then let out a little whoop, calling our attention. “You, my friend, are going to owe me big-time.”
“TAG Heuer?” Hayes asked.
“TAG Heuer. Hi, I’m Raj. Pleasure.” He leaned in to shake my hand before turning back toward Hayes. “Yes, they’re sending over someone at three o’clock with several watches. You’re to choose one appropriate for this evening. And then another more casual for every day.”
“Well done, Raj,” laptop fellow said.
“This could be huge, Hayes. If they offer it to you, you can’t say no,” the darker of the blondes said.
“Yes, but isn’t it off-brand?”
“It’s off August Moon brand. It’s not off Hayes Campbell brand.”
Hayes was doing that thing where he pulled at his lower lip, pensive. “I just think it’s kind of elitist. I mean fourteen-year-old girls aren’t buying TAG Heuer watches.”
“They are in Dubai.” Laptop fellow again.
“You’re reaching beyond fourteen-year-old girls, mate. That’s the whole point. You’re expanding your brand. You’re redefining yourself. You’re not going to be in a boy band forever.”
Hayes turned to me then. He was so dashing in his suit. Were these people ever going to leave? “They want me to do an ad campaign for TAG Heuer. Solo. What do you think?”
All eyes were on me then, and I assumed they were wondering if and why my opinion should matter. “Who else has done them?”
“Brad, Leonardo,” Raj said.
“Who’s shooting it?”
“They have a couple of people they use for all their projects. Very competent, impeccable work, but not celebrity names.”
“So he can’t request Meisel or Leibovitz or Afanador?”
“I’m sorry, what is it you do again?” The fellow at the laptop stopped plunking.
Hayes broke into one of his half grins then. “Solène owns an art gallery in L.A.” He sounded almost boastful. “I trust her taste implicitly.”
I would have laughed at him had he not been staring at me so intensely. So much for secrets.
“Well,” I said after a charged moment, “if it’s good enough for Brad and Leo… go for it. Give them swagger.”
