Oh no.
I gave him a you-can’t-be-serious glare. “The monthly makeover?”
“I know, I know. So overdone and cliché, but it’s what the masses like and lures customers to my site.”
“You’re forgetting I’m not a writer.”
He let out a sarcastic laugh. “Have you read any of Natasha’s columns? Neither was she.”
“And Lucy still needs more help with training—”
“Jamal can take over. He trained you, after all.” Carlos crossed his arms. “Any more protests, or can I count on you to get me out of a jam?”
Crap. I really did owe him.
“Of course I’ll do it,” I finally said. “It’s the least I could do for all you’ve done for me.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” He air-kissed my cheek. “I’ll have Pam forward the applications to your email.”
Great. That meant applications from people who knew nothing about fashion and either wanted a chance at some short-lived fame or would look to me like I was their fairy godmother who could magically transform them into Cinderella or Prince Charming.
This was going to be a long month.
* * *
Justin
“Good morning, Mr. Cooper.” Courtney, my receptionist, gave her usual seductive smile: mouth slightly parted, a pen brushing her lips.
Showing no sign of interest, I walked straight past her desk with a brief “Morning” in response. I held in a breath and let it out slowly, preparing myself for the inevitable before I could escape to my office. Janie from Marketing was chatting with Sarah at her desk. She turned my way, looking me up and down as I headed down the hallway. “Good morning, Mr. Cooper.”
I kept my face forward. “Morning, Janie.”
The moment I saw Giselle, I slipped into the break room, hoping to avoid her before my first cup of coffee. I eyed the pot that barely contained enough left for one cup. I had a Keurig machine in my office that I normally used, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Isabella, my executive assistant, walked into the room, took one look at me, and shook her head. “Hiding from Giselle?”
I poured the scary black liquid into a paper cup. “No, just preparing.”
Isabella rinsed out the old pot and started a fresh brew. “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”
But it was too late, the coffee had already violated my taste buds before I forced it down my throat. “What the hell is this?”
“Your office manager decided to save some money for you, but since you’re both dating now, perhaps you can get her to go back to the old brand?”
I narrowed my eyes her way and dumped what was left of the black poison masquerading as coffee into the sink. “It wasn’t a date. It was a business lunch.”
Isabella laughed. “Try telling Giselle that.”
“I did. Twice.”
“Good luck with that one.”
I grunted before leaving the break room and made my way toward the end of the hall. Giselle stepped out of a doorway, blocking my path with a Tupperware in hand. “Justin! Just the man I wanted to see.”
I forced a smile. “Is it an emergency, because I have a busy day ahead—”
“You’re such a workaholic,” she playfully nudged me. “I worry about you. My aunt Marcia—the one who lives up in Hampton Beach, well notexactlyHampton Beach, but it’s only a good twenty-minute drive away. She always says Hampton Beach because people know it. Sort of like when people say they’re from Boston so long as they live close enough. Anywho, as I was saying, my aunt Marcia…”
