Chapter Five #2
The ads didn’t even have their new designer shoes in any prominent position to showcase them, for one thing. In fact, Kari wasn’t sure how the brief they’d given them resulted in this fuck up.
Bowie bit his lower lip, dipping his eyelashes to shield his expression, revealing he’d picked up Kari’s slow burning anger he’d worked to keep under wraps from the overly sensitive omega.
“It’s not your fault, Bowie,” he pointed out fast. Bowie took a lot to heart, Kari had learned, unless he said differently.
“You presented me with their work, you did not know they’d produce this garbage.
” He cast a disparaging look at the file in Bowie’s hands, running fingers through his hair in frustration at having to find an additional ad agency when they were already behind schedule for this project.
“I recommended them,” he muttered in a whisper.
Kari pinned him with a look that said they weren’t playing the blame game.
He wouldn’t tolerate it. “And it was me who went with them, not you. So, if the blame lies anywhere, it’s with me.
I’ve emailed legal to ask where we stand with the contract we have with them.
I don’t have time to waste energy on this right now.
We need to find another agency to do the ad copy that can give us something to launch the new brand in three weeks. ” Difficult, but not impossible.
He opened the lower desk drawer and pulled out the fat file of other companies Bowie had found for Kari.
“Maybe we could go more local?” he suggested, his mind running over possibilities. “It would make sense.”
The companies Kari did business with were working overtime with Jupiter and fashion designers in the buildup to Milan Fashion Week.
It was the biggest fashion show on the calendar, so Jupiter took all the priority ad spots they had at this time of year.
He did not want to wrangle with Jupiter after witnessing what his brother was having to contend with after he’d run through the very long list required for organising an event such as fashion week.
There would also be the bitching, which would no doubt spread into the group chat.
He didn’t need an additional headache. How Dad had done all the wrangling—alone—in the past made him a damn saint in Kari’s eyes.
“There’s ad agencies based in Hazardville.”
File open in his hands, reading the list of companies pinned to the front, Kari asked distractedly, “Is there?”
“Yes, Lacy & Co. They have a place down on Smith Street. I could ask Rex—Mr. Lacy, if they could work within our deadline?”
Kari’s head shot up at the odd quality of Bowie’s voice. Nerves, the kind that could be associated with all kinds of reasons, had Kari working to keep his expression bland.
“You know Mr. Lacy personally?” It was not really a question Bowie had to answer, not when the heightened flush to Bowie’s cheeks answered for him.
“He’s… a friend.”
Kari suspected he was way more than that and chose not to question Bowie more. It was none of his business. Absolutely none. “Is the information in the file?” Kari glanced down, continuing to read through the list.
“On the second page, under local businesses,” Bowie nervously supplied.
Not on the first page… why was that?
“Let’s call him and invite him in today,” suggested Kari, not sure why. A face-to-face meeting would be more prohibitive when a phone call would save time.
“Er… o-okay,” Bowie stammered looking flustered. He rose, placed the file of images down and reached for his iPad.
Kari’s eyes narrowed marginally. “Where are you going?”
“To make the call?” Bowie questioned, his brows disappearing under his bangs.
Kari pointed to the phone on his desk, smiling. “It works.”
Bowie’s eyes widened, reaching for the phone with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. Kari could only surmise why, so he chose not to, pretending interest in the list of agencies as he listened to Bowie talk.
“Hello, this is Bowie Outlander… yes… I’m calling to see if I can speak with Mr. Lacy, if possible.”
A long pause followed, and Kari glanced up from under his eyelashes to watch Bowie twiddle with a lock of hair at the side of his ear. He was looking at the desk, the heightened color in his cheeks having disappeared, leaving him pale.
Kari was about to ask to take the call instead when he heard a muffled, deep voice demand, “What is this about Bowie? I never gave you permission to call me at work. I’m a very busy man, this is inexcusable.”
His wolf's hearing had no problem picking up the nasty edge that made Bowie wilt like a flower in a hundred-degree heat.
What the shittin' fuck?
Kari was up out of his seat at break-neck speed, papers fluttering around him like confetti and the forgotten file dropped to the floor while he reached for the phone before he could think logically.
Phone in hand, he held Bowie’s gaze as he replied, “This is Kari Starling. To whom am I speaking?”
The cough sounded choked before the same deep rumbly voice answered, “This is Mr. Lacy.”
“Well, be advised I was the one who requested Bowie contact you at work. I’m unsure why that would require permission,” he stated stiffly, already regretting suggesting calling this asshat.
Fucking permission, who the hell did he think he was?
“I apologize,” he offered quickly. “What would you like to discuss?” An eagerness filled the voice that hadn’t been there seconds ago.
The ‘fuck you’ his brother would have no qualms about saying aloud was right on the tip of his tongue, and Kari had to take a moment to make sure he didn’t utter it.
Something he’d need to think about when Bowie wasn’t stood mere feet from him, his chin trembling.
He didn’t want the omega to fret after the other ad agency debacle, despite not really wanting the asshat in his office.
Only that would make it obvious he had an issue—which clearly, he didn’t.
“Do you have time to come to Starling Enterprises' head office today?”
“I can rearrange my schedule and be there at twelve pm, if that is suitable.”
No, it’s fucking not.
Whatever was on his calendar, Kari would change it for one reason only: Bowie.
“Of course, I’ll leave your name at reception. Please do not be late.” On that, he cut the call.
Bowie hopped from one foot to the other, looking like he needed to pee. His eyes danced around the room, not landing on anything for more than a brief moment.
Kari swallowed a sigh and placed the phone down, bending to collect the scattered papers.
“Why don’t you ask Miranda to get me a coffee and you a juice,” he suggested, reaching for the two sheets of paper under his desk, giving Bowie breathing room.
“Then we can put the file back in order and see if there are any other local agencies we can contact.” He rose as he finished and caught Bowie’s wide-eyed nod before he darted out of the office.
When he disappeared, Kari laid his head on the desk in front of him and banged it to see if that would push the sense back into it.
Because clearly, he’d lost it suggesting Bowie ring someone he was—from the way Rex spoke to him—in a relationship with.
An asshat, who was now pissed off for reasons Kari chose not to scrutinize.
He wanted to ask questions that were none of his business. To stop himself, he banged his head once more on the desk.