Chapter 14
HOLLIS
Istood in the lobby the next morning and waited. Would she be late? Early? Definitely early.
The elevator dinged, and I looked up.
Holy fuck.
Juno stepped out wearing a green dress that hugged every curve in a way that made my mouth go dry. The color did something to her eyes that I couldn’t quite name but definitely couldn’t look away from. Her hair was down again, falling in those soft waves I’d been trying not to think about.
And the heels? Jesus Christ, the heels. I would let her put those pointy heels against my chest any day of the week.
She was dressed to kill.
I realized I’d been staring and quickly looked down at my phone, pretending I’d been checking something important.
“Morning,” she said as she approached.
“Morning.” I slipped my phone into my pocket and gestured toward the door. “Ready?”
“Are you?”
“You’ll see.” I wore a navy suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. Professional but not stuffy. The kind of outfit that said I took this seriously. But standing next to her, I felt like I should have tried harder.
We stepped outside, and I flagged down a cab. I opened the door for her and tried not to watch as she slid into the backseat, that dress riding up just slightly. I followed her in and gave the driver the address.
Juno stared out the window, her hands folded in her lap. I found myself studying her profile, watching the way she bit her lower lip. Damn. The woman was like a painting I couldn’t look away from. A work of art in motion.
Shame she was so prickly.
“Stop staring at me,” she said without looking over.
“I’m not staring.”
“You are.” She turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No. You look—” I caught myself. “Nice.”
“Thanks.” She went back to looking out the window, but I could have sworn I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.
The PriceCo building was all glass and steel on the outside. We walked through the revolving doors into a lobby that screamed money and power. We walked to the elevator bank. When we stepped inside, I noticed she had worn a different perfume. It was fruity. Strawberries.
Fuck. I suddenly had a craving for strawberries. And champagne.
She stared straight ahead. The doors opened and I gestured for her to step out first.
The receptionist greeted us with a practiced smile. “Can I help you?”
“Hollis Blackwell and Juno Young,” I said. “We have a meeting.”
“Of course. Please have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”
“Water please,” Juno said.
“Same,” I added.
We settled into the sleek chairs in the waiting area. I pulled out my phone to check my notes one more time, but I’d already memorized every word. The presentation was solid. The numbers were good. The product was fucking amazing.
I just needed to sell it.
“Nervous?” Juno asked quietly.
I looked at her. “No.”
“Liar.”
I smiled despite myself. “Maybe a little.”
“Good.” She smoothed her dress over her thighs. “Means you care.”
Before I could respond, a woman in a sharp blazer appeared. “Mr. Blackwell? Ms. Young? They’re ready for you.”
We stood and followed her into the conference room. Four executives sat at a large oval table, each with one of my green smoothies in front of them.
My heart jumped.
“Oh, good,” I said, stepping into the room. “You got the package I shipped.”
“We did,” said the man at the head of the table, standing to shake my hand. They went around the room, introducing themselves.
More handshakes, professional smiles. We all settled into our seats.
The head of the table nodded once. “You’ve got the floor.”
I cleared my throat and dove in. “You were interested in B Well Balance several months ago, but we couldn’t reach a deal because I couldn’t provide the volume you needed.
But I’m in talks with Young at Heart to scale up production.
They have a bottling plant that can handle the kind of volume PriceCo requires. ”
“And how far along are those talks?” one asked.
I glanced at Juno. She gave me a small nod.
“Far enough that we’re confident we can meet your needs,” I said. “So the only question is, how many units do you want?”
Light laughter. The man at the head picked up his smoothie and took a sip. “This is good stuff. We’ve had our team test it against the competition, and yours comes out on top every time. Taste, texture, nutritional profile, it beats everything else on the market.”
“That’s because I didn’t cut corners,” I said. “I spent two years perfecting the recipe. Real ingredients, no artificial anything. It tastes good because it is good.”
The conversation flowed naturally from there. I walked them through my business model and the pricing structure. Toby’s social media work had paid off. They’d seen the viral video and how engaged my audience was. How many customers had rushed to my defense.
As I talked, I could have sworn I caught her watching me. Not with that usual skepticism or irritation. Something that looked almost like… respect?
I was killing it. We were five minutes from closing the deal. Juno added a few details here and there, but for the most part, she let me take the lead. I wasn’t sure if she thought I would crash and burn and was letting me dig my own grave or if she was confident I could do it.
Thise business was mine and I was perfectly capable of handling the pitch myself.
And then it happened.
“Be honest with me,” an executive said. “I saw the video you all posted, but be honest with me. Just between us. Do you still think it tastes like piss?”
I held my breath, my eyes sliding to Juno before I could stop myself. Everything I’d worked for hung on what she’d say next. The execs were all watching her, waiting. The guy who’d asked the question had an amused expression like he’d just lobbed a grenade into the middle of my pitch.
He did. The last thirty minutes of me pitching was on the line. If she sabotaged me, I’d push her out of the fucking plane on the way home.
Juno reached across the table and grabbed one of the unopened bottles. She twisted the cap off with a sharp crack that echoed in the suddenly quiet room.
Then she tilted her head back and downed half of it in one long drink.
Holy shit.
I watched her throat work as she swallowed. Watched the way her lips wrapped around the bottle. Watched a small drop escape and trail down her chin before she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, and I had no idea why.
She set the bottle down on the table with a loud thunk. Looked the exec dead in the eye.
“Still gross,” she said flatly.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
“But I freely admit most people love the taste,” she continued without missing a beat.
“And regardless of how it tastes to me, the health benefits are worth it. I’ve done the research.
The nutritional profile is solid. The ingredients are quality.
And people are lining up to get it. The numbers don’t lie. ”
The room was silent for about two seconds.
Then the woman to my left burst out laughing. “I love that. Honest.”
“Exactly,” another exec chimed in. “People respect authenticity. And frankly, I think it tastes great.” He picked up his own bottle and took a sip. “Better than most of the other wellness drinks we carry.”
The others murmured agreement. One of them was already pulling up something on her tablet.
“Half a million units to start,” the man at the head of the table said. “Test run. We’ll place them in our West Coast locations first, see how they move. If the numbers are good, we’ll expand nationwide.”
I felt the air leave my lungs. Half a million. It wasn’t the full million I needed, but it was halfway there. Halfway to everything I’d been working toward.
I cleared my throat. “That’s fantastic. Thank you.”
We spent the next twenty minutes hammering out details. Delivery schedules, pricing, marketing support. Juno jumped in a few times with questions I hadn’t even thought to ask, her business mind working twice as fast as mine.
By the time we stood to shake hands again, I felt like I was floating.
We stepped out of the conference room and into the elevator. The doors slid shut, and suddenly I couldn’t contain it anymore.
“We did it,” I said, turning to her with a grin. “Holy shit, we actually did it.”
“You did it.” She sounded surprised. “That was impressive. You had them eating out of your hand in there.”
I blinked at her. Was she actually complimenting me?
“They loved you,” she continued as the elevator descended. “You speak with a lot of confidence. And you certainly sound like you have the knowledge. You knew your product inside and out. Every question they threw at you, you had an answer ready. That’s what closes deals.”
“What about you?” I asked, still riding the high. “You called it gross and they loved it.”
She laughed. “Sometimes honesty is the best strategy. Besides, I wasn’t lying. It’s not my favorite thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“But you drank it anyway.”
“I did.” She met my eyes, and something passed between us. Something I couldn’t quite name but definitely felt. “For the deal.”
“Right. For the deal.”
The elevator opened into the lobby. We walked out into the bright Manhattan morning. I felt lighter than I had in months. Success was within reach. I could feel it.
The city noise greeted us. All the horns, conversation, and engines. Today it sounded like a celebration.
“Let me buy you lunch,” I said.
“Don’t we need to get back to the hotel and check out?”
I shrugged. “Late checkout. Come on. We just landed half a million units. That’s worth celebrating.”
She hesitated, and I watched the internal debate play out on her face. Part of her wanted to say no. Hard to know if it was because she really disliked me or because she wanted to maintain that professional distance she’d been clinging to since we met.
I resorted to the million-dollar smile. That made her laugh.
“Okay,” she said finally. “But nowhere fancy.”
I grinned. “Deal. Nowhere fancy. I know a place.”
“I’m sure you do.”
I stepped to the curb to hail a cab. She could pretend to be a Debbie Downer but I saw the way her eyes lit up. Maybe a mimosa was all she needed to loosen up.