Page 49 of A Song for You

I have to hold back a jolt at the mention of his name. “Wonderful. That will take care of all the big things for the masquerade, then.”

“Yes, I’m impressed with how quickly you’ve moved through all the tasks. It’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. Aside from the Hanson thing.”

Hanson thing? Shit. Does she know about us? Did he say something? That bastard.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Rose inspecting me. She’s likely ready to dance in excitement over the way I’m squirming.

I clear my throat and sit a little straighter. “Hanson thing?”

“Lunch,” Cynthia replies, quirking a brow.

“Oh, right.” God, I’m an idiot.

“Anyway. Every spring, I take two interns with me to Paris. We work from our office there through May. A few of those who have traveled with me have even been hired by Jolie Paris.”

My toes dance in my pumps at the mere thought of Paris in the spring. Working there, exploring, even living there. More than anything, I long for a fresh start.

“That’s amazing,” I breathe out.

Rose frowns but doesn’t join in on the conversation.

“Anyway, I’ve been watching you. I’m impressed, so keep up the good work.”

“I’ve actually been working with Sophie Parsons on something as well,” I say, pressing my lips together and scooting to the edge of my seat.

Cynthia raises her brow and leans forward, but Rose’s frown only deepens.

“It has to do with the Christmas list,” I explain.

Rose scoffs, “You’re not to be working on that.”

I turn to her. “You’re right. It’s something I’ve been toying with after hours,” I explain, looking to Cynthia.

Without a word, she dips her chin, signaling me to proceed.

“It’s just that, several interns have been tasked with testing products that, well”—I take a deep breath and get to the point—“they’re geared toward white girls…and if I’m being completely honest, skinny white girls.”

In my periphery, I swear Rose’s eyes bulge, and she opens her mouth, likely to defend her boss.

But Cynthia merely twists her lips and nods. “You’re not wrong. But what does your project have to do with that?” she challenges.

“We would like to add items that would be beneficial to a wider audience. Not just one subset of women.” I swallow, afraid I’ve overstepped and sabotaged my chance at Paris.

Cynthia examines me for a few moments, and just as Rose opens her mouth to speak again, she finally nods. “Okay. Submit your list to me next week. If I’m impressed, I’ll pass it along to the junior editors to vet.”

Although my instinct is to stand and do a happy dance, I temper my excitement and simply smile. “Thank you so much. I’ll work with Sophie on it this weekend.”

She nods. “Enjoy lunch.”

I stand at her dismissal and shoot Rose a winning smile.

Instead of responding in a similar manner, all she does is narrow her eyes.

“Have a good day, Rose,” I say sweetly, then I stride out of the office.

Twenty-Eight

Cat