“What can I say?” Mel smiled. “Your work ethic is rubbing off on me. I also had some things to do before the mini vacay and after your text last night, I had to make sure my girl was prepared. Plus, maybe there’s still a chance you can come to the festivities tonight? We can’t let the Ice Queen ruin all of our plans.”
Yes, Viv was living her own personal version of The Devil Wears Prada. Her boss even had the name and personality to match. Except in this case, the Ice Queen wore Lilly Pulitzer, and there was no amazing closet full of free clothes or trips to Paris.
“Too late,” Viv said, pulling out her makeup bag. “You know I’ll be locked away for the next week working on this.”
“You’re exhausted, darlin’. She’s been working you too hard, and now she’s dumping the Jarod Cage case on you? It’s bullshit.”
Viv nodded, working on her eyes. Just a little more concealer and she’d be good to go.
“I’ll make her pay,” Viv whispered, getting the strange sensation Miranda had the place bugged. “One way or another, you’ll see. She won’t know it’s coming, and she definitely won’t know it’s me.”
“Well, that seems to defeat the purpose.” Mel rolled her eyes. “You need to speak up so she stops taking advantage of you.”
“Yeah, I know. But I hate confronting that woman. Sometimes the path of least resistance is best.”
Mel’s brow settled into a rare serious expression. “I’m still worried about you.”
“Don’t be.” Viv put her makeup away with a wink. “How else am I going to get the director role in New York? I have to pay my dues.”
“Okay,” Mel said. “Back to business, then. I found some racing pubs to get you started.” She handed over a stack of magazines.
“Is this from your personal collection?” Viv glanced at the publications.
“Har har. We had a stack in the library. The media relations department does some work for NASCAR. Now is there anything else I can help you with before you get Caged?”
Viv raised a brow. “Is that code for something?”
“No, that’s just what the pit lizards call their time with Jarod Cage. Getting Caged. Get it?”
“Pit lizards?” she asked. “Do I even want to know what those are?”
“The skanks who try to hook up with the drivers,” Mel said. “NASCAR’s answer to groupies.”
“Ugh. What have I gotten myself into?” Viv dropped her head into her hands.
“Racing, baby.” Mel squealed. “And from the looks of your new client, you could have a whole lot of fun with that.”
“Fun?” Viv asked as if she never heard the word before.
“Yes.” Mel shook her head. “Remember fun? Laugh. Flirt a little. Let him take you for a ride, if you know what I mean.”
“Gross.”
“I’m serious. You’re overworked and underpaid. What’s the point of all of this if you can’t enjoy yourself once in a while?”
“You’re one to talk, you know?”
“What do you mean?” Mel asked. “I go out constantly.”
“Sure, but when was the last time you really got excited about someone?”
“My tastes are particular, that’s all.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to waste my time unless it’s the real deal. I’ll know when I know. But we’re talking about you. It’s 2015, Vivi—live a little. Let go for once in your life.”
Viv rolled her eyes.
“Gah, you’re hopeless,” Mel said, bouncing toward the door. “Well, I’ll be around if you need my racing expertise, or if any more of those fun little videos pop up.”
“Thanks for the generous offer, but I’ll be fine. You can run along now. Go to your picnic and leave the heavy lifting to me.”
Mel flipped her off, but Viv knew she didn’t take her insult seriously. Mel didn’t get whipped up about work like she did. She always said she wasn’t the long-term career type, and that was a shame because Melody Sharp was one of the best event planners in Atlanta—whether she knew it or not. But the way Miranda was always pushing her friend, Viv was afraid it was only a matter of time before Mel left Elite and let her parents marry her off to some boring Southern gentleman.
Viv shut her office door so she could do a final run-through of her presentation without any disturbances—though she was keeping the theatrics to a minimum with this one. Most of her clients didn’t appreciate a big to-do. Of course the agents and managers did, but the ticket to winning business with men like Jarod Cage was to make him feel at home. She needed to convince him that he needed her, that she was the best person for the job.