Page 34 of 12 Days

Chapter 15

Alyssa

I close my eyes, then inhale deeply let my breath out slowly.

I’m doing all I can to switch to a rational approach. From experience, I know that no matter how far the distance seems, I often see good results arise from finding common ground.

“I know sex sells,” I explain to Ford, speaking with a blunt tone to convey that I understand their approach better than they appreciate, and it’s time to cut through the affectations and posturing so we can have a real conversation. “That’s nothing new in marketing.”

Ford directs a look at me, his face so supremely secure that everything in the smallish room he’s taken me into seems to fade except for his effortlessly arresting expression.

“It’s nothing new in life,” he tells me.

I agree with him there. It’s so obvious that I don’t bother replying. I guess Ford’s meeting me on the common ground.

It’s not like we’re on opposing sides of a profound moral rift. I just don’t know why they still want to push through with this True Love marketing gig.

“Is marketing all there is in life? Are products all that matter?”

“Of course not.” I’m flabbergasted by the speed and vigor of Ford’s response. He means it, which suggests to me that there’s a kind of philosophical conviction behind all of this. I wish I knew what it was.

“Nico,” I find myself saying, drawn to bringing him into the conversation, “What else is there for a high-powered executive? Profit, right? Just profit all the way down.”

Realizing how absorbed I am in talking, to the point that I’m just standing and urgently rattling off my arguments, I take a spot on the thundercloud gray divan sectional pushed up against the corner of the room.

Tristan’s already perched on the seat around the corner from me. We’re all shifting positions, literally, in the room. He turns his head to me to offer a kind look.

“I’m happy to see you, Alyssa. It was getting lonely.”

I sense Tate’s temperature, his competitiveness as he treads snappily to the divan and sits himself on the spot closest to me. I must say, I enjoy the tickly feeling of the cushions shifting with the weight of Tate settling into his spot.

“What can I say,” Tate starts sardonically with a shrug, “I was getting lonely, too.”

“Hey, everyone,” I call out, snapping all four men into instant attention, “what’s the deal with True Love?”

“You mean the product or the intangible concept?” asks Tate, and I’m about to respond, Either one, if it’ll answer my question, when Ford starts piping in with his own answer, staring straight at me from across the room.

“That falls in line with what you were asking,” he asserts with gravity, taking a few deliberate steps in the direction of the divan as he speaks. “The one about what more there is to life. Life, that’s the heart of it.”

I don’t even try to stop myself from rolling my eyes, hoping that Ford notices.

“Are you saying that life is the answer? Even for a shallow marketing campaign, that’s some super shaky ground you’re on there.”

“Ha!” Tristan liked that. He turns to me, showing a delighted grin.

“That is what I’m saying, Alyssa,” Ford continues, letting everything I’ve thrown at him just breeze right by. “It’s not infinite. Life, I mean. I’m talking about maximizing the limited time we do have here.”

I shake my head. It’s sounding like more ad agency pitch room mumbo-jumbo.

Ford’s doing a great job acting earnest about this, though?if he is acting. My eyes float over to Nico, since he is who I asked about it originally. He locks eyes with me readily, standing a few feet from Tate, like they’re doing some sort of tag-team debate, trying to support each other.

I halt myself from laughing at the thought. I also fight a smile from starting, which is easy until Tate turns to me with his own smirk, obviously having a similar thought.

“I don’t disagree,” Nico adds, unfazed by Tate’s silent derision. “I believe in appreciating life, not wasting it. I do my best to fill my life with what I think is important, and what I enjoy.”

“So, you’re in it for yourself,” I shoot back before bothering to consider a response. I feel Tate and Tristan’s boredom exuding from their part of the divan.

“Don’t engage with them, Alyssa,” Tristan says with a trace of humorous growl.

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