Page 145 of Naughty Nelle

“So, Catherine, what do you think we should be developing in the boys’ market?”

“Robots are always a safe bet. So are dinosaurs,” she said with authority and self-assuredness.

Ike furrowed his bushy eyebrows. “But there’s such a glut of robots and dinosaurs out there. We need something new. Something different. Something that will break out from the pack.” He turned to me. “Do you have any ideas?”

Moi? He wanted to hear from me, a lowly assistant?

Catherine shot me a dirty look. I wasn’t intimidated.

“Mr. Abrams, I think parents are looking for something that’s high-tech, educational, and not too violent.”

Ike’s face brightened. “I totally agree with you, Ms.—”

“Greene. Sarah Greene,” I said proudly.

Catherine was smoldering, her nostrils flared. I could practically see puffs of smoke coming out of her ears.

Ike turned to my flustered boss. “Catherine, by Thursday, I’d like to hear at least six concepts for a breakthrough boys’ toyline. Please work with the design team.”

“Not a problem,” responded Catherine, recovering quickly. Her voice oozed with an air of faux confidence.

Ike thanked everyone, and the meeting was adjourned. As he exited the boardroom, he shot me another smile. On cloud nine, I twitched one back at him as he left the room.

My high was short lived. Back to fuming, Catherine marched hell-bent down the hall to her office. I trailed behind the clickety-clack of her Chanel pumps. When I got back to my cubicle outside her office, there was, to my surprise, a large gift-wrapped box sitting on my desk. I immediately recognized the violet paper and humongous white bow. It was from Bergdorf’s and I immediately knew who had sent it to me. There was no card, just a label with my name printed on it. My heart was pounding.

Catherine’s pillowy Chanel-red lips slithered into a smile. “Oh, that must be the special order I placed at Bergdorf’s over the weekend.”

I broke the “bad news” to her. “Um, uh, it’s for me.”

Catherine’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. I wish I had a camera to capture the expression on her face. It was a combination of utter disbelief, disgust, and disdain.

She scoffed at me. “You have no business shopping at Bergdorf’s. I want you to stay glued to your desk at lunch and come up with some ideas for a new boys’ toyline.” She threw the competitive analysis file at me and stomped into her office. “And don’t forget to confirm my lunch reservation at Cipriani’s for two,” she called out before slamming the door behind her.

Despite how much I wanted to open my package from Bergdorf’s, I spent the rest of the morning studying the file. There was definitely a need for something new, something different in the boys’ toy arena. At noon, Catherine popped out of her office.

“I’ll be out of the office for two hours. Please screen all my phone calls, and remember, do not give out my cell number to anyone.”

After refreshing her lipstick, she stalked down the hall toward the bank of elevators. I sighed with relief. She was gone. I could finally open up my package.

Just as I was about to unwrap it, Fernando stopped by my desk. I had totally forgotten we had made a lunch date.

“Ooh, fancy schmancy Bergdorf’s box. Since when have they been paying you the big bucks, mí amor?”

“It’s a gift.”

“Ooh. Mí amiga has a hot sugar daddy.”

I felt myself flushing. “No, not exactly.”

“Come on, mí amor. Open, open! Let me see what you got.”

I twisted my face in frustration. I knew I wasn’t going to get rid of Fernando. He was somewhat of a leech, albeit an admittedly lovable and not hard to look at one. A dead ringer for George Chakiris—Bernardo in West Side Story. With his jet-black hair, exotic chiseled face, and tight little ass, he could have easily been a male model. Or an actor.

My heart hammering with anticipation, I carefully tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box. My eyes grew wide. Inside, under layers of tissue paper was a breathtaking hot pink strapless dress with a thigh-high slit extending from the hem. A pair of strappy silver stilettos accompanied the dress.

“Ooh! Alexander Wang. I love him!” exclaimed Fernando.

The raving fashionista made me stand up and hold the dress against my body.

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