“Keep going.”
“The ads for the less costly line, I would create them based on the month they are put out. I would make them seasonal and edgy. Maybe for fall, feature vampire teeth in the ad. Keep the colors blood red. Valentine’s Day time, incorporate flowers into your ad. Summer, keep the graphics light in tone and airy.” I sigh and lean my butt against the table. “I don’t know. This is not my thing. I just think that someone who is shopping the less expensive line will probably be single and may want to treat herself to something nice without having to wait for a partner to do so for her. I would also see what movie, book, or entertainment avenue was trending at the time on social media and maybe incorporate aspects of those phenomena into the ads. Ride on the coattails of something already very popular. And if you can predict what will be the latest craze before it actually hits mega stardom, then being slightly ahead of the curve would help as well and possibly send profits skyrocketing exponentially.”
Graham taps a finger along his jawline, looking back at the mockups that are plastered along the table. “What about the male line with watches and cufflinks?”
“I would stick to dark colors and no humans in the ads. Guys want simple. Let the actual product speak for itself. Guys don’t buy into fantasy the way that women do. And I bet they don’t want to compare themselves to anyone in the ad. Too much ego.”
“You are incredibly insightful.”
I furrow my brow and let his words marinate. It has been so long since I have expressed myself to someone else like this and it be rewarded. I love sewing my own clothes—but it is primarily for me. I make them the way I want them, without thinking of others. Thus, giving my opinion on ads and marketing projects is so foreign. And maybe knowing that my opinion is just that makes it easier to vocalize my thoughts because there is less of a consequence if I am wrong or off the mark.
Graham hugs me, as I whisper, “Thank you.” He kisses me on the forehead and then squeezes me tighter.
“Can I run with some of these ideas, Graham?” the marketing manager asks.
I startle at her voice. I wasn’t even sure she was listening to me rattle them off; she seemed to zone out and go about her business while I was sharing them with Graham.
“Yeah, write up a plan and show me a series of mockups for me to give the final review. Email them when your team has them completed.”
“Deadline?”
“Two weeks.”
“Done.”
I follow Graham back to the elevators and kiss him on the lips. “I have to go if I’m going to make it home in time to change and get ready for Girls’ Night.”
His eyes flinch when I refer to my townhouse as being home. To me, it still is in a way. He recovers and pulls out his phone from his inner breast pocket. “Can you take Angie back to the townhouse? Yeah. Add two more. Make sure they blend. Nonintrusive.” He guides me inside the elevator car when it arrives. “Okay, great. Keep me posted. Hourly, nothing less.”
I listen to the interchange and watch the tic of his jaw. He is not thrilled with me going out tonight. But life goes on. I especially know that. I watch silently as he ends the call, hits the lobby button, and leans against the metal handrail. “I’ll text you while I’m out tonight. Will that ease your worries?”
“No. But do so anyway, because I always love to hear from you.”
When we get to the lobby, Collins is waiting for me. I give Graham a longer kiss goodbye.
“Thank you for showing me around your work. I really enjoyed seeing you in action.”
“Thank you for a wonderful day. I think we should make every day bring-your-girlfriend-to-work day.”
I giggle and then get serious, “Yeah, and watch-your-company-plummet-while-the-boss-boyfriend-fucks-said-girlfriend-all-over-the-damn-place. Your dick would get raw anyway.”
He laughs, “Boss Boyfriend, eh? What happened to Teddy Graham?”
I burst out laughing to the point that tears are filling my eyes. “That’s the name Claire calls you.”
“And why is that, Angie?”
“She thinks you are a big ol’ teddy bear who is just a softy under a hard exterior.”
“But what doyouthink?”
I make an exaggerated point of looking deep in thought. I then move closer and grind myself discreetly against his groin, causing him to twitch. “I think there is nothingsoftabout you under your exterior.”
His groan is only for my ears. I pivot on my heel and walk over to Collins with a little added sway to my hips. I can feel Graham’s eyes burn into my retreating backside.
I turn and look over my shoulder at him.
And wave goodbye.