One Night Standards(14)

This is going to get ugly.

“I’m so excited to see what you both have come up with,” she said, her voice rounded and cultured, even as her eyes sparkled with avaricious delight. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox to have you both here at the same time, but I think it’s better when everyone knows what they’re up against. Competition only brings out the best, it’s what makes our country work.”

Mark struggled not to roll his eyes. He glanced at Sophie, who had a similar look on her face. Of course, she chose that moment to look over at him. They shared a millisecond of mutual amusement, and then both quickly looked away, before anything more heated could be exchanged. Mrs. Marion continued talking.

“Trimera, you appear to be already set up,” she said, “so I’ll forgo the coin toss, and have you start. Is that all right?”

“Splendid,” Carol purred, standing. She quickly distributed the hard copy of her presentation—a sheaf of papers, housed in its own binder.

“All this?” Mrs. Marion said in condescending amusement.

Carol blanched. “I think it will answer the most important questions you might have, Mrs. Marion. We pride ourselves on being thorough.”

“Obviously,” Mrs. Marion observed wryly. “Very well. You’ll have twenty minutes.”

Carol went pale. Rather, she went paler. “I didn’t think it would be so closely timed,” she said, hastily shuffling through her presentation.

“I didn’t realize you were presenting a doctoral thesis,” Mrs. Marion responded.

For a split second, Mark almost felt sorry for Carol. Almost.

“All right,” Carol said. “Trimera has been in business for the past fifty years….”

It was going poorly. Mark could tell that in the first five minutes. What was more, he could tell that Sophie knew. Her sister and mother might not get it, but there was a ghost of a smile haunting the corners of her lips (those lips, don’t think about those lips, he counseled himself). She was amused, and her eyes were bright and shrewd.

He grimaced. This was a nightmare. For the first time, it occurred to him that the promotion he’d been bucking for was in jeopardy. He’d promised Sophie that her business would not be affected if they slept together.

What he hadn’t realized was his business would be affected. He should have been more on top of this account, and not so intent on sexually pursuing his competitor.

Not just your competitor. Sophie. There is a difference.

But different or not, he wouldn’t be able to keep Sophie, she’d made that clear. And if he didn’t get the promotion—if they kept thinking of him as merely a pretty-faced deal-closer…

Aw, hell.

“You’re not really answering my questions. In fact, I can’t imagine what questions you are answering,” Mrs. Marion finally cut in impatiently, after seeing the thirtieth slide. “What, exactly, is Trimera coming up with for our house brand? What’s the ruling concept?”

Carol stammered. “The point is, Trimera products have already done historically well at Marion & Co.,” she said, sounding less and less sure of herself. “With our product designers and graphic designers, we can come up with whatever you’d like and make it highly profitable.” She quickly switched to a slide of three mock-ups of cosmetics. They were unimpressive. One even said House Brand on it. Mark felt acutely embarrassed and glared at Carol.

“I see,” Mrs. Marion mused. “So, what you’re saying is…you’ll develop whatever we come up with? Whatever possible concept we could imagine?”

“Exactly,” Carol said with obvious relief. She even shot Mark a smug grin.

“So why, exactly, would we be paying you when we’re doing the hard part?”

Carol blinked, blindsided. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t need a manufacturer, and I don’t need a brand name,” Mrs. Marion responded sharply. “I need a specially designed product line. This is not what I had in mind. Do you have any suggestions at all?”

Carol was now officially aghast…and to his surprise, she turned to Mark. “Uh…”

He stood up. “Marion & Co. has a long history in quality, high-end retail. If you’re offering a line of cosmetics, we would suggest something that reflects not only quality, but classic beauty, with overtones of pampering. What we’d suggest is a luxury line of cosmetics—nothing trendy or over-the-top. Indulgences, aimed for the high-end cosmetics client. I would even recommend calling it Indulgences,” he added, spur of the moment.

Mrs. Marion smiled again. “I see. And you don’t think that would be boring?”

Mark smiled back, his very best persuasive smile. “Nothing’s more beautiful than classic elegance, Mrs. Marion.”

To his delight, she actually beamed back at him. He figured that would resonate, considering how she dressed, how she acted—how she obviously pictured herself, the ultimate Marion & Co. client.

“Well, that’s one way to go,” Carol said, seemingly more confident. “Beyond that, if you’ll look at the proposal, you’ll see that—”

“I’ll look over the details of your proposal in this very comprehensive pack tonight,” Mrs. Marion promised. “At my leisure.”

And just like that, Trimera’s portion of the program was done. Carol looked a bit shell shocked as she shut off her projector and sat down next to Mark. She glanced at him briefly, her expression clear: What the hell happened here?

She couldn’t say he didn’t warn her, Mark thought. Still, it was a bad start. He wondered how Sophie would do.

Sophie quickly distributed a very neat, very small-looking portfolio to Mrs. Marion’s hands. She smiled at Carol and him, quietly confident. It was sexier than hell.

When isn’t the woman sexy?

“I agree with Trimera,” Sophie said, surprising him. “There’s nothing more beautiful than classic elegance. And it certainly doesn’t have to be boring, because beauty is more than surface details. We at Diva Nation feel that beauty is an attitude…something that we feel we’ve captured in the concept for Marion & Co.”

Smart girl, Mark thought admiringly. Using Trimera’s last and possibly only useful concept, and twisting it to fit what they had.

She was, he realized, about to kick his ass.

She clicked on her presentation, and there was a fully developed, sharp-looking product line, full of bold colors and whimsical yet elegant packaging. “We call it the Screen Goddess line,” Sophie said.

“Very interesting,” Mrs. Marion said, and there was nothing smug or baiting about it, unlike her interactions with Carol. “It’s not too retro, is it? I mean, it wouldn’t be old? You’ve got Greta Garbo, Betty Grable, Veronica Lake…”

“Marilyn Monroe, Catherine Deneuve, Audrey Hepburn,” Sophie continued. “I think it’s just retro enough. If you consider the fact that you’re partnering with Diva Nation—that is, if you decided to partner with us,” she said, smiling cheekily at Mark and Carol, “you’ll already have a built-in element of urban cool. This way, you’re not alienating your older client base, and you’re also drawing in a younger demographic.”

“Fascinating,” Mrs. Marion said. “So we win, all the way around.”

It was brilliant, Mark thought. Sophie and Diva Nation had correctly read Marion & Co., developed a perfect, bite-sized presentation, and had subsequently blown Trimera out of the water.

“Well, you two have definitely given me a lot to think about,” Mrs. Marion said, although she barely looked at the Trimera side of the room. “Lily will send you the parameters for the next meeting. You’ve shown me concepts—now, I want you to show me products. Good luck.”

With that, they were dismissed. He saw Sophie high-five her sister before whispering, again, with her mother. They were all triumphant. But before they could leave entirely, Sophie shot him a look that he couldn’t quite place. He kept thinking of it after she left, and as Carol picked up the pieces of her crumbled presentation.

Now, he suddenly got why he couldn’t quite place Sophie’s last gaze. Normally, it was one of either nervousness or pure desire.

This was one of apology…and possibly pity.

Grimly, he set his jaw. She’d been right. Sex between the two of them could be disastrous.

For him.



“WE DID IT! WE DID IT!”

Sophie smiled weakly. Her mother and sister were doing victory dances in their hotel room, which was definitely hampering their attempts at packing to leave.

“What’s the matter, Sophie?” her mother finally said, frowning. “You’re certainly not acting like we’ve aced one of the biggest meetings of our lives.”

“We haven’t won anything yet,” Sophie said cautiously.

Lydia made a raspberry sound at her. “Buzzkill,” she accused. “We kicked ass and you know it.”

Sophie felt a reluctant grin creep across her face. “We did pretty good,” she acknowledged.

“Pretty good? Ha! We made those guys squirm!” Lydia trumpeted.

Sophie winced. She shouldn’t feel badly. After all, it wasn’t as if she had done anything unethical. They had beaten Trimera soundly, and on good solid principles.