Trust in Advertising (28 page)

“So, what did he decide he wanted on the car?”

“This time he decided he didn’t want detailing. Instead he opted for a completely new paint job. The yellow ‘isn’t working for him.’”

“Since when?” Lexi furrowed her brow. “He thought the yellow was … how did he put it all last week? ‘Totally kick ass.’”

Hope snickered to herself. “Well, I might have had something to do with that. I mentioned that it’s common knowledge in the automobile industry that men who drive yellow sports cars have tiny … things. That didn’t sit too well with him.”

“Apparently. What color does he want it now?”

Hope grinned from ear to ear. “Sleek, sexy black.”

“So you convinced Sean and his drop dead gorgeous dimples that he needed to be in a make-Hope-all-hot-and-bothered-because-she-has-a-thing-for-black-cars, black Ferrari?”

She shrugged innocently. “It’s my job to tell the client if I think something will or will not work for them, and Sean is definitely not a teenie-wienie-yellow kinda guy.”

Lexi nodded her head in agreement. “You got it bad, don’t you? Just admit it. You know you want to.” Lexi grinned at her friend.

Hope scowled and replied, “Go to work. Your darling Vincent is waiting for you, I’m sure. Maybe he’ll even chase you around the desk a little today.”

Hope threw Lexi a sexy wink.

“Bitch,” Lexi laughed as she climbed out of the car.

“And you love me for it. See you at six. Be ready for a night out on the town!”

The tires screeched as she sped away and cut into heavy traffic. Lexi shook her head and made her way upstairs to begin her day.

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Victoria Michaels

Everything that could possibly go wrong that morning did. Vincent was late to work because Jade needed a last minute ride to the airport for a photo shoot, then he got stuck in a huge traffic jam on the freeway. When he finally arrived, he was ready to kill someone, so Lexi made sure to give him some time to himself before checking to see what he needed her to do.

After a long morning of making copies and phone calls, she had to go down to productions, a task she normally dreaded because it meant having to deal with Tony. Vincent let it slip, however, that Tony was gone for the day. When Lexi picked up the materials in productions, she was shocked. Asshole or not, Tony and his team did amazing work. The boards for the Stone presentation were ready and looked amazing. Lexi was admiring them at her desk when Vincent walked by.

“Did he fu—
mess
anything up this time?” He joined Lexi in examining the materials.

“Surprisingly, no,” Lexi chuckled. “Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf.”

Vincent gave her a droll look. “More like he is lying in wait for his next attack. Trust me. Don’t ever let your guard down around him.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She peered up at Vincent’s weary face. Elbowing him lightly, she asked, “How about I get you some lunch? What do you want?”

“I would kiss your feet for a big turkey sandwich from that New York deli on Fifth.”

“A simple please would suffice, but if you insist, kiss away.” She jokingly held out her foot to him and nearly fell onto her desk when he stepped closer like he was actually going to do it. “I was just kidding!” She staggered back, clutching the edge of her desk for dear life.

He laughed and dipped his head right next to hers. “So was I. I don’t kiss feet.” Before she could open her mouth to respond, his warm lips pressed against her cheek, and his husky voice whispered in her ear. “Thanks, Lexi.”

Lexi closed her eyes and prayed that she would remember everything about this moment for the rest of her life: the soft feel of his lips, the heat of his breath against her neck, the silky strands of his hair that brushed against her cheek, the smell of his cologne, the enveloping warmth of his body as it loomed over her. She wanted to revel in the perfect memory for as long as possible, burning it into her mind.

Vincent noticed her sudden silence and watched her intently. His eyes dropped to her mouth and for a second he too seemed miles away, deeply lost in his own 164

Trust in Advertising

thoughts. When his tongue darted out and slowly stroked across the soft, pink skin of his lower lip, Lexi’s body flushed with heat.

Trying to cover up her overwhelming lust, she used a little humor to deflect his attention.

“If I go all the way to Fifth at this time of day, you’re buying
my
lunch too,”

Lexi teased as she bent over and grabbed her purse, then took a deep breath to calm her thundering heart, “and I’m starving.”

Vincent pul ed out his wal et and placed a fifty into Lexi’s outstretched palm.

He wrapped his much larger hand around hers and closed her fingers around the cash. “This should cover your little feeding frenzy. If not, let me know.”

“I was only kidding.” Lexi tried to give the money back, but he pushed her hand away.

“I’m not. Lunch is on me. And since you’ll have change, if you should pass a donut shop …”

“A dozen powdered jelly?” Lexi laughed without thinking until Vincent’s mouth fell open.

“How do you do that?” he asked incredulously.

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what I’m thinking?” His eyes locked on hers, watching her every move as she shifted uncomfortably in place.

“I remember watching you eat them before school.” She glanced down at the carpet to hide her embarrassment. “I took a guess you still liked them.”

Vincent reached out and gently lifted her chin up so he could see her face.

“You know it kills me that I can’t remember you.”

Leigh came around the corner at that moment, sending Lexi scurrying across the room. “I’ll go grab lunch. I’ll be back as soon as I can, with traffic and all.”

Leigh and Vincent watched her dart down the hall like a jackrabbit.

The entire day went by in a flash. A little before six, Lexi got a text from Hope that she would be a late. Something about a Porsche owner with his head firmly planted up his ass. Lexi laughed and was actually relieved because Vincent was still in his office and had given her a laundry list of things that still needed to get done for tomorrow.

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At seven, Lexi had just changed her clothes for her date with Hope when the printer jammed. She was about to crawl under her desk and drag it out when her phone rang. “Lexi White, can I help you?”

“Hey, Lexi, it’s Christina. How are you?”

“I’m great. We’re a little busy getting ready for a big presentation that my boss has tomorrow with this really famous fashion designer,” Lexi teased as she eyed her makeup bag and glanced at the clock; Hope would be there soon.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” she said in a hushed tone. “I just wanted to see how you guys were doing with the presentation. Everything ready to go?”

Lexi dropped her tone to match Christina’s. “Why are we whispering about this?”

“Because I’m not supposed to be calling about these things, but I just want to make sure that everything’s on schedule.” Her voice became deadly serious.

“He liked Reid’s campaign.”

Lexi felt like she was going to be sick. “How much did he like it?”

“A lot. It was good, all about being unique and expressing yourself.”

Lexi’s eyes immediately flew to the production boards sitting beside her.

The main tag line for the ad was burned into her memory not only from the boards, but the PowerPoint and the mockup ads. Everything had those same two words on it: Unique expressions of self, by Julian Stone.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“No, no, don’t say shit, Lexi. Say ‘we can kick Reid’s ass.’ Tell me he’s gonna look like dog food after you guys present tomorrow.”

Lexi’s mind was a million miles away, trying to figure out how she was going to break the news to Vincent that the presentation he had been slaving over had already been pitched to Julian.

“Lexi? Are you still there?” Christina’s worried whispers snapped Lexi out of her trance.

“I’m here. We’ll be there tomorrow, and Vincent’s presentation
will
make David’s look like dog food!” Lexi was on her feet pacing in front of her desk.

“Christina, I love you, but I gotta go. I’ll see you soon.” Lexi tossed the phone onto her desk and flew into Vincent’s office.

“What the hell?” Vincent’s head shot up when the door crashed into the wall, rattling the framed pictures that hung nearby. “Wow, you look gorgeous.”

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She nearly melted into a puddle right there in the doorway of his office as he smiled at her. Shaking her head from side to side, she forced herself to remember the real reason she had come barreling into his office in the first place, and it wasn’t to fish for a compliment.

“Thanks, but we have trouble, big trouble.” Lexi began pacing across his office in her high heels, trying to figure out what they were going to do and how they could quickly tweak what they had and turn it into something wonderful, something that would knock Julian Stone’s socks off.

“You’re making me really nervous here. Is there someone with a gun in the lobby?”

Lexi shook her head no, but continued her rapid movements.

He slowly looked her up and down. “Stalker ex-boyfriend?”

Lexi stopped walking, glared at him, unamused, and then bit her lip as she resumed her walking.

“Have you spent any time in a psychiatric facility?” he asked, slowly reaching for the phone.

Lexi went to his desk and slammed her hand down over his. “Don’t ask me how I know this because I will deny it until the day I die, but I just found out that David Reid gave a great presentation to Julian Stone today.”

Vincent swore under his breath, then collected himself. “Okay, well, I’ll just have to be better than him now, won’t I? Nothing to worry about. I can do that. Reid is a walking social disorder.”

“That wasn’t the bad part. Apparently, his presentation centered on being

‘unique’ and ‘expressing yourself.’” Lexi had barely finished the sentence, but Vincent was already on his feet.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“There must be a mistake.” He sat on the edge of his desk.

“I wish there was. My information is from a very reliable source.”

Vincent raked his hands though his hair, tugging on the strands before releasing them from his grasp. Suddenly, his face lit up and he grabbed the phone. “Come on … come on … pick up. Someone …”

“Who are you calling?”

“Productions. I’m going to tell them all to stay, and we’ll pull an all-nighter if necessary.”

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“Vincent, it’s after seven. No one is down there. You know they run out the door at five o’clock sharp.”

“Then get them on their cell phones and tell every one of them to get back in here or they’re fired.”

“Vincent, most of them left for the airport before lunch. You know Tony took the team to that conference, and that’s why all the boards had to be done this morning.”

“Do it!” he barked, at his wit’s end. “Please, just try,” he said in a much softer tone as he closed his eyes and clutched his head, deep in thought.

Lexi ran to her desk and scrolled through the employee logs, searching for phone numbers. She then began the uncomfortable task of calling his production department back in to work or even worse, firing them for not answering Vincent’s orders. Phone call after phone call kicked to voice mail, not a single one of them picking up because they were all in the air.

She slammed down the receiver, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to get anyone at this point. In sixteen hours, Vincent needed something intelligent to take to Stone, and what they currently had in their possession wasn’t going to get them the account.

In the midst of the chaos that swirled around her, Lexi’s BlackBerry began vibrating on her desk. There was a text from Hope.

Leaving the Crowbar. Be there in fifteen.

H

“Damn it. She’s gonna kill me,” Lexi said to no one in particular.

“Language, Miss White,” a booming voice chided, “my virgin ears.” Sean smugly grinned as he leaned against the wall beside her desk. “Damn, girl, you look hot.”

“What do you want, cue ball? We’re in full out crisis mode here. I don’t have time for this.”

“Man, you sound just like Vince. Creepy.”

“Sean!”

“Who peed in your cereal?”

Lexi sighed. “Sorry. The Stone presentation. There’s been a snag.”

“Shit.”

“My sentiment exactly.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

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Lexi sprang to her feet. “Yes! Vincent needs someone to run new pitches with him, brainstorm new ideas and hammer out a plan, and then make the new presentation. Everyone in productions has checked out for the night or left town, and to bring another team in at this hour and get them up to speed on this project would take too long. But you’re here, so you can help him!”

“Hold up. I’m not the creative VP. I’m the one that gets the stuff for the ads. Vincent tells me what he wants, and I make it happen. I organize, I plan, I execute. I don’t think up the little jingles or draw the cutesie pictures. Trust me, the only creativity I have is in the bedroom. Now, if it’s
that
kinda campaign you’re talkin’ about, count me in.”