Page 14 of Perfect (mis)Match

“Absolutely!”

“Brilliant as always, Eileen!”

“It’s perfection!”

It was too much. Overly enthusiastic, rehearsed. A room full of people, each one chasing Eileen’s approval like little kids clamoring for a gold star from their kindergarten teacher. The smiles were a little too wide, the nods a little too fast. Even Vincent had a small, approving smirk on his face, though he didn’t add anything to the heap of flattery piling up around her.

I wasn’t buying it.

I looked down at my feet, hoping to go unnoticed. Did they really believe it, or were they just terrified of Eileen? Or, maybe, they were terrified of Vincent.

“Piper?” Vincent’s voice cut through my inner monologue like the devil’s whisper in Sunday’s mass. “You’re awfully quiet.”

I straightened up, suddenly aware that every eye in the room had turned toward me.

“I—” The word caught in my throat. I hadn’t expected to be singled out—not on my first week—and I sure as hell wasn’t prepared to give my opinion in front of everyone, particularly Eileen. Her sharp gaze landed on me, expectant. She was enjoying this, I could tell. Waiting for me to bow down like the rest of them.

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” His voice was low, cutting. The challenge was clear: I wasn’t going to escape this without saying something definitive.

The tension in the room ratcheted up another notch. I glanced around, hoping for some sort of out, but all I got were blank stares and raised eyebrows. Everyone was waiting.

And Vincent wasn’t letting this go.

Neither was Eileen. “Any issues with the campaign, Piper?” Eileen asked me, her voice dipping lower. Meaner. “Don’t tell me you don’t love it.”

My throat tightened. It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a dare.

Oh, what the hell.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Not really,” I said.

“I’m sorry, you have a problem with the campaign, Piper?” Vincent demanded.

“Yes, do tell,” Eileen added, her voice dripping with displeasure.

The heat of a dozen glares burned through me. No turning back now. “I, uh, I just think that sinceEvermorehas been five years in the making, we should do something different. The campaign for the whole trio of fragrances has been super influential so far, which is great, but it’s also a major drawback because our images aren’t fresh anymore. They haven’t…evolved.”

No one had thrown me out of the room at the end of a pitchfork yet, so I pressed on.

“We’ve seenThenandNow, and yes, they were elegant, iconic even. ButEvermore…it’s different. This isn’t just another chapter; it’s the final. It has to be bolder. Something that sticks, that makes people rethink everything they thought they knew about the brand. We need to make people stop andfeelsomething new.”

“This is our brand story, Piper,” Vincent said, his voice neutral. “Branding is everything.”

“Yes, but at a certain point a brand can get oversaturated, and then it’s time for a pivot. I’m not saying we scrap everything. ButEvermoreshould feel like the culmination of something timeless—yet daring. We need to update the visuals in a way that still ties into the existing theme but breathes life into it. Like…” I scanned the room for inspiration. “Taking if off the pedestal and making it more human.”

“That is not what I pay you to do,” Vincent cut me off.

My mouth dropped open before I could help it. “Excuseme?”

“You’re our photographer, but you need to leave the creative direction to the rest of your team. They’re the experts—not you.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to remember just howsignificantmy contribution is going to be?” I gave him a pointed look. No Piper, no perfume, it was as simple as that, and he knew it.

Vincent’s jaw twitched. If we’d been alone, I’m sure he would’ve loved to unsheathe his sword and spar with me, but since we were surrounded by his employees, he thought better of it.

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