Alissa drew her laptop toward herself, clicked a couple of buttons, and connected to the projector. “Give me a moment. I’ll pull the mock-ups up and we’ll see what we’re working with.”
Her voice didn’t hold a single note of confidence.
Garrett finally took his seat.
The board room hummed with silence until Alissa made a small, surprised sound in the back of her throat.
I resisted the urge to grin like a shit-eating eight-year-old who’d gotten away with stealing cookies out of the jar.
Wait. Patience.
“Wow,” Alissa breathed. She clicked a few more keys on her keyboard before casting to the projector. An image blew up on the back wall. A couple of adjustments made the picture clear, and a damn near life-sized mock-up of Laila and me made my trousers suddenly tight. It had been hard enough working with her, feeling her hands on my bare chest, breathing in her lemony scent as her hair tickled my back, but seeing the result of the pictures?
Damn. We looked hot.
Alissa shook her head in disbelief. “Wow.”
I chuckled. “You said that already.”
She never took her eyes off the image. She clicked through a couple more, and each was better than the last. “It’s all I can think to say. Just… wow. These are impressive, Storm. You look… well, you look like a model.”
“Miss Hunt was a good teacher,” I said.
Garrett chuckled before covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. This is just very unexpected. Your father would—”
“Would call me a long list of names, I’m aware.”
“Nonsense.” Alissa pursed her lips and clicked through more pictures. “Your father never could have pulled off something like this, even in his prime. These are professional, Storm. It’s exactly what I hoped for. And who is she?”
“Laila Hunt.”
“She’s stunning.”
“Isn’t she?” I mused.
“Don’t ruin it.” Alissa ran her finger over her chin, thoughtfully considering each picture, one after another. She reviewed the mock-ups, followed by the stand-alone stills, and narrowed her preferences down with the help of the board members.
Garrett chimed in that he especially liked the shot of me with wings on and a puffy diaper, holding a small bow and arrow with a quiver on my back. It was my least favorite of the bunch. In the image, Laila stood beside me, her arm looped through mine, her hip leaning into mine, her eyes fixed on me as I pretended to take a shot.
“I’d rather we didn’t use that one.” I shifted in my chair. “It makes me look like a cherub.”
Garrett grinned. “Exactly. It’s perfect.”
I turned to Alissa. “Save me.”
She laughed softly. “I don’t think it’s the right choice for the branding, but I do think it would be fun for a special event. Perhaps the launch of the new Valentine’s Day lingerie line in the Times Square store? It’s flirty, fun, and inviting.”
Garrett nodded. “Done.”
I grimaced. “Hold on.”
Garrett held his hand up. “All in favor of using Storm’s diaper picture at the launch?”
Every single hand went up around the table.
I leaned back in my chair with my arms crossed over my chest. “Traitors.”
Alissa gave me a warm and sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you saw this coming a mile away. Perhaps as soon as you put that diaper on.”
“It’s not a diaper.”
She giggled. I’d never heard her actually giggle before. “It’s a diaper, Storm. And I love how you went with it and didn’t take yourself too seriously. It’s a good look on you. I have some faith in you yet.”
“I meant what I said. I’m serious about this and I want it to be successful.” I looked each member in the eye. “I’m not going to let you down.”
The board discussed the images for about half an hour before they gathered their feedback for the marketing campaign. I let them take the reins on this one. I’d done my part and posed for the photos. The board was nervous about this giant brand purchase and me potentially sabotaging it, so I’d give them power over any decision-making that made them feel a bit more at ease. This was an easy thing to let go of.
After the meeting wrapped up, Garrett asked me to hang back. Once everyone filed out, he pulled his chair toward me. The wheels swiveled in little circles beneath him until he settled. “Do you need anything this weekend?”
What was this about? “No, why?”
“You know why, Storm. It’s the four-year anniversary since we lost your father.” His brows knitted together sympathetically. There it was again. That we word. I wondered if Garrett even realized he was using it and that it irritated me. He’d lost a boss. I’d lost a father. They were not the same thing, regardless of whether my old man wished Garrett had been his son. “If you need a friend or someone to keep your mind off things, our door is always open.”
“I appreciate the offer but I’m good, Garrett.”
“What about tonight? Come over for dinner. My wife is making tenderloin and scalloped potatoes and she puts most of the chefs in this city to shame. Have a glass of wine and some laughs and you can call it a night.”
I knew this was to appease his own moral compass, not to actually comfort me. Garrett meant well almost always, and he was like an uncle to me, but I didn’t need his pity.
I stood and closed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be okay, Garrett. You don’t need to worry about me. But you should worry about those potatoes. Now I know why you’re getting a little softer.”
He smiled. “Fuck off.”
“Just sayin’.”
CHAPTER 10
LAILA
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Lexi let her hands fall from the steering wheel as she peered past me and out the passenger window. Beyond, green hills speckled with headstones and wilting flowers that were battered by the wind. Lexi grimaced. “It’s a miserable day for this.”
A bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane crinkled in my lap. “It’s okay. I just need fifteen or twenty minutes. I’d prefer to be alone, to be honest.”
Lexi smiled. “I understand. I’ll wait here.”
As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was blasted with frigid wind. The weather networks were all calling for a blustery twenty-four hours and a drop in temperature overnight, so I’d decided to get out to my mother’s grave before it got late and the weather worsened. I kept my head down and my chin tucked into the collar of my jacket as I trudged up the hill to my mother’s tombstone. It sat almost at the crest of the hill on a flat piece of stone nestled in the grass.
In memory of Mariana Hunt, doting mother, loving wife, and cherished daughter.
I crouched down and pressed bare fingers to the cold stone. “Hi, Mom.”
Somewhere in a distant memory, I heard her voice say hello and I closed my eyes.
“Casey and I had another fight. I know, I know, I need to be nicer. But she’s still such a pain in the ass, you have no idea. Although maybe you do. I don’t know. Dad says she’s more like you every day.”