Page 2 of Kiss and Makeup
“Kristen,” Grant greeted me. “Please, sit down.”
I had a great poker face—not that I used it for any card game. It was my shield, my guaranteed defense against the prying evaluation of people I didn’t want to know my thoughts.
Grant’s was better, and I knew that when he used it in his own office with his own head of marketing, something was up. “Grant,” I replied, wondering if I should disappear behind my own facade.
“Take a look at this.” Grant pushed a piece of paper across the desk.
My eyes flew through the document. The faster they moved, searching for the silver lining in this disaster, the lower my heart sank.
They closed down. ReNova, the digital media company I had pushed Grant to contract to shoot our commercials and audio ads for BeautyBee’s Holiday Collection, had closed its doors.
“They can’t do this.”
“They can, and they have, Kristen. Contracts don’t matter when there’s no company to sue for breaking them. We only lost what we paid up front, but now we’re down in our budget, and we don’t have a company lined up to handle this.” Grant leaned forward. “I don’t think I need to remind you that you pushed for this company. We turned down offers from other companies for that contract.”
“I know,” I managed. “And I’ll fix it.”
“Yes, you will.” Grant pushed a business card across the desk. “Now, there’s only one media company with the capacity to handle this within our budget that we haven’t already turned down. Cruise Media has agreed to a meeting.”
“When?” We were supposed to start planning for shoots this week, hiring next week, and getting these ads done over the next few weeks after that. There was no time to wait for the cogs of the gigantic corporation that was Cruise Media to turn.
“Today. They’re willing to work us in, even gave us a meeting with a representative—but it has to be today, which suits us anyway.” Grant’s eyes shot frosty bolts of steel into my heart. “We need this, Kristen. BeautyBee is struggling. We put everything we have into our Holiday Collection this year, and I still believe you’re the woman to pull the company through.”
I took this job knowing BeautyBee’s financial status. If I could pull the company out of financial difficulty… well, it would speak volumes about my competence.
This was a setback I hadn’t been expecting, and with what had happened with Brent just an hour ago…. I kind of just wanted to curl up and cry some more.
Wanted to. That would never actually happen in any place of business, of course.
“I know we need this. This is just a setback. When those holiday ads hit TVs and radios, we’ll make back everything we spent and hit our goals too.” I slipped the business card into my coat.
“We’d better. I expect a call this evening telling me how we have a new contract negotiated with Cruise Media.”
Or else? As I let myself out of his office, I realized that the “or else” he’d left hanging in the air had been clear enough. If I didn’t handle this situation, I would be out of a job—because BeautyBee, no matter how prosperous and well-known it had been in the past, would go under.
Taking my aspirations with it. I couldn’t let that happen.
Even if it meant collaborating with Cruise Media.
Cruise Media had been one of the candidates in the list of companies that I considered to create BeautyBee’s holiday ad campaign. I’d skipped past it—after all, there had been three other choices—for personal reasons, not professional ones.
And it was biting me in the ass. I should never have allowed my personal life or past relationships to affect my decision-making.
Besides, the odds that my college sweetheart would ever appear anywhere near any aspect of his family’s company was laughable. The workoutaholic, college football star hadn’t wanted anything to do with business years ago. Why would he now? He was probably on some NFL team—if he’d managed to get his life together and try hard enough to succeed at something.
I blinked away a fresh wave of hot tears. Xavier had his flaws, but he’d never cheated on me….
It took me two tries to blink away enough tears to see the time on my phone: 3:12 PM, which meant I had just about an hour and fifteen minutes before my meeting with the Cruise Media rep. Just enough time for one quick stop.
Fifteen minutes later, I pushed open the cheerfully decorated doors to my daughter’s preschool. “I’m here to see Emma Hall?” I asked the lady at the desk. I didn’t recognize her like I usually did, but then, it was early for me to be here.
“In the after-school program?” The lady made a few clicks. “You’re… Kristen Shay? What’s your relation to Emma?”
I knew she had to ask, but it had been a long time since I had needed to answer that question. All the workers here when I usually came to pick Emma up knew why we didn’t share a last name. “She’s actually my niece,” I explained, trying not to sound impatient or upset. “I adopted her after her parents passed away in a car crash.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” A tiny awkward silence followed her apology. “Could I just see some I.D.?”
I held out my driver’s license. She was only doing her job, and I respected people who did their jobs—even if they kept me from my little girl longer than they should.
