Chapter 1 #2
“Even with being a man, you know what I mean. Women can see through bullshit across the room. Plus, I hate to say this and I’m not dissing every mechanic, but when you look at the romance section on or in any brick-and-mortar store, you’ll be hard pressed to find a sexy series on mechanics.”
He was now staring at me and I was no longer able to tell if it was with amusement or mentally preparing my termination notice. “What would be considered sexy enough for women?”
“I don’t know. Cowboys, although they’d been done to death in a calendar.
Mafia men, although I honestly doubt a single member of any crime syndicate looks anything like what’s represented in romance novels.
Firefighters. Surfers. You do remember that the campaign was handed to my team without a single recommendation or even a brief thought about the subject matter.
We did our best with what we had to work with. ”
“But models aren’t good enough?”
“I can guarantee you that if one of our purchasers also selected a previous version of our calendars even from six years ago, she’d find the same guy in both.
In two different professions. While our purchasers want a fantasy fulfilled, they also want to believe in that fantasy.
They want a real man who will provide them with hopes that one day they can find their own… sexy. Calendar. Hunk.”
“So you’re suggesting we find the real thing.” Eric had yet to blink. He was definitely a vampire.
Was I? I was no fool. Models were used for a reason.
They were handsome. The chances of finding real life men who were buff, beautiful, and secure enough in their masculinity to pose for a calendar and all the social media goodies that went with instant fame were slim to nil.
But I’d backed myself in a corner and in truth, what did we have to lose?
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, although I will admit that that might mean going outside of the LA area is necessary depending on the genre of man candy we choose. ”
Why not shoot the moon and see if we could get the hell out of Los Angeles for a couple of weeks.
Eric took a deep breath and busted my theory by blinking several times. “Alright. The idea has merit. However, we are facing a printing deadline. Do you believe in your team?”
“One hundred percent. No, one thousand percent. We are extremely good at what we do if we’re allowed off our leashes.”
I’d finally shocked him with my brazen words, both his thick eyebrows shooting up.
Great, Vi. You just put your foot in your mouth and rent is due next week.
“Well, Violet, I’m glad to hear that. Given your… expertise in the area of handsome men, then I assume you’ll very easily be able to come up with another campaign in a timely fashion.”
“You bet we can.”
He stood, returning to his perch in front of the window, which meant I was about to be dismissed. “Then I will expect you and your team will have something to me by this evening and before I leave for my dinner meeting.”
What? What the hell did he just say? Tonight?
The man was out of his mind. “There is no way I can have photographs taken of a mock calendar created by tonight.”
“That’s what designer software is for, to provide a proof of concept. You don’t need the real photographs, just a basic layout with the idea.”
I ran through the logistics in my mind. “What time are you leaving?”
“Seven. Sharp. You can do this, yes?”
He’d boxed me in. No, I’d done this to myself. One big test, the arrogant prick. “Absolutely. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Livingston. If your campaign is unacceptable then I’m afraid I’ll need to make some changes to personnel.”
Had he just threatened to fire me and my team? Oh, I hated this man with a passion.
I resisted reacting as I walked out, still holding my head high while I was freaking out inside.
What in the world had I just talked my way into?
Hell. That was the only logical answer. I headed back and my entire team was on their feet.
“Let’s go to the fantasy room,” I told them, not breaking stride.
“Uh-oh,” Sheila moaned. “I feel bad news coming on.”
A laugh almost bubbled to the surface. I waited until everyone had piled into the room, the area something the former creative supervisor had seen depicted at Google and had re-created. Shortly afterwards, she’d been fired.
The crew stood staring at me, waiting for the shoe to drop. “Well, we still have a job.”
“Thank God,” Wayne breathed.
“But,” I continued, “Mr. Dannon hates the campaign. In truth, we did too. We’ve been given a reprieve, including full creative authority.”
“Woo-hoo!” Mark chirped first, a couple of others clapping.
“Not so fast. We need to have the new idea fleshed out, a mockup crude representation completed and in his hands by seven tonight.” I waited as the news settled.
“Tonight?” Debbie asked, blinking furiously.
“Tonight. We can do this. We’re going to select real men from a real manly profession. The kind women will drool over.” I glanced at Brenda, her dubious facial expression depicting what I was feeling perfectly.
At first, no one said a word, my entire team staring at me with a deer in the headlights look.
Then Sheila raised her hand. “How are we going to go about finding the perfect hot men in a few hours?”
“A very good question,” I mused. “We scour the internet like everyone else does. Instagram. Facebook. TikTok. Check out what’s going viral. Everything from cowboys to hockey players. Sorry, guys, but you’ll need to think like a woman. What kind of man would she enjoy seeing shirtless?”
Mark puffed up his chest and the women laughed. “You know how to destroy a guy.”
“Come on, guys. Let’s do this. I just hope you don’t have any plans for after work. We’re in for the long haul.”
They looked at each other, but I could tell the creative juices were already flowing.
I’d left out the part about a change in personnel on purpose.
They didn’t need that kind of pressure. As everyone headed to their computers, my phone rang.
There were very few people who even knew my personal phone number, one of whom I’d threatened the last time he’d called.
I had doubts he’d risk my rage after the last conversation we’d had in person.
When the school’s number popped up, my stomach lurched. “Violet Livingston.”
“Ms. Livingston, this is Principal Walker. I’m sorry to be contacting you at work, but I’m afraid you’re going to need to come down to school and get Damon.”
“Why? What has he done this time?” This time. I hated using the phrase, but as of late, every time someone called about my son, it was always bad news.
“He set fire to the girl’s bathroom.”
Exhaling, I closed my eyes. My day had just gone from shitty to horrible.
“I’ll be right there.”