“Sounds good.”
Within seconds Isabella opened the door. “So?”
“I meet with him, his partner, and the team Thursday at one.”
She let out a squeal. “Does this mean you’re in?”
“Not yet, but we’re damn close. If I make a final impression with his partner, it’s a lock.”
“You’ll do it.”
“I hope so. This could be the one that brings this company to another level.” I clapped my hands together. The last thing I could think about was work. “Come on, I’m taking you to lunch.”
“You’ll make Giselle jealous,” she teased.
“All the more reason to go. Maybe then she’ll realize it really wasn’t a date.”
I grabbed my suit jacket off the hanger and looked down at my tie, remembering the advice Vivian gave. I could really use her help with what to wear at this meeting. “If you wouldn’t mind, after lunch, could you put me in touch with Vivian?”
She crossed her arms, raising her brows at me. “I thought you weren’t interested?”
“I’m not. Vivian gave me some great advice on my wardrobe for my Longfellow meeting with Rajesh. I’d like to look the part for this one too.”
She shook her head. “Hmm.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Vivian told me you’d ask for her number and that you would call within three days. Today is the third day.”
I slipped my arms through the jacket sleeves. “Is it?”
“Yup. Still want me to put you in touch?”
“No, hold off. I think I have a better idea.”
4
The Calling Game
Vivian
Crystal stared down at the flowers with raised eyebrows, and I handed her the card. “The meeting went great,” she read aloud. “Thank you again for your advice. Justin.” She smirked as she handed it back to me. “So, does this count as a phone call?”
“No, he’s trying to get out of it.” I tapped my finger against my lips as my eyes traveled over the yellow roses. A symbol of friendship or something you’d give to an admin assistant on Secretary’s Day.
“Or maybe he’s just being nice?”
“He sent them so I’d feel obligated to call and say thank you. It’s pretty brilliant, actually.”
Crystal snickered. “I think you just met your match.”
“If he thinks I’m calling, he has another think coming.”
“Hey, Viv?” Becky stood in the doorway of my office with a folder in her arms.
“What’s up?”
“I went through your final picks for a makeover candidate.” She picked at the edge of the folder. “They were all great…”