Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“My parents really liked you…”
“Especially your mom.” He winked.
Now that comment seemed more like the Bennett I’d come to know over the last week.
“Must be early-onset senility. Anyway, they showed me your proposal for their ad campaign. It was really good.”
“Of course it was.”
For a second, I reconsidered what I’d spent days mulling over. His blazing ego didn’t need any more fanning. But my parents deserved the best advertising campaign possible. And that wasn’t mine, unfortunately.
“As much as it pains me to say it, your ideas were better. We’d like to go forward on the radio copy and magazine sketches you proposed. I have a few tweaks, and I’d obviously like to stay on the campaign as the point person, but we can manage this campaign together. And I’ll let Jonas know it’s my family and give you credit for bringing in the better pitch.”
Bennett stared at me for a long moment, saying nothing. Then he leaned back into his chair, steepled his fingers, and squinted at me like I was a suspect. “Why would you do that? What’s the catch?”
“Do what? Tell Jonas?”
He shook his head. “All of it. We’re in the middle of fighting for our jobs, and you’re going to hand me a W that’s an easy point for you.”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Your advertising is better for the client.”
“Because it’s your family?”
I wasn’t quite sure about the answer to that. The fact that it was my parents’ winery was a no-brainer. But what would I do if this were a regular client we had both pitched? I honestly didn’t know if I’d be handing him anything. I’d like to think my morals would have me putting the client first, no matter what. Yet this was my job on the line…
“Well, yes. The fact that it’s my parents made it an easy decision to put the client first.”
Bennett scratched his chin. “Alright. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I opened my to-do-list notebook again. “Now, next order of business. Jonas sent us an email this morning on the Venus Vodka campaign. He wants ideas by this Friday, and he doesn’t want us to tell him who came up with which pitch. I think he wants to make sure we have direction early because he doesn’t trust we’ll be able to work together well enough.”
“Would you do that for any client?”
“Be ready early when the boss asks? Of course.”
He shook his head. “No. Use my campaign if you thought it was better than yours.”
Apparently I was the only one who’d changed subjects. I closed my book and leaned back in my seat. “I’m honestly not sure. I like to think I would put any client first, that I’d act ethically in their best interest, but I love my job, and I’ve invested seven years working my way up with Wren. So, I’m ashamed to say, I can’t really answer that with certainty.”
Bennett’s face had been stoic, but a slow grin spread across it now. “We might get along after all.”
“What would you do in that situation? Do what’s best for the client or for yourself?”
“Easy. I’d bury your ass, and the client would get second best. Although, on the off chance my work was actually second best, it would be by a hair, so the client wouldn’t be suffering much.”
I laughed. Such a damn cocky bastard, but at least he was honest. “Good to know what I’m up against.”
We spent the next half hour going through open issues and then decided we would get started on the Venus campaign later in the day because we both had afternoons jam-packed with meetings.
“I have an appointment with a client at two. I can probably be back at the office by about five,” I said.
“I’ll order us in some dinner. What are you? A vegetarian, vegan, pescatarian, beegan?
I stood. “Why do I have to be any of those?”
Bennett shrugged. “You just seem like the type.”
Too bad eye rolls weren’t a form of exercise. God knows, I’d be in tip-top shape after being around this man. “I eat anything. I’m not picky.”
I’d made it to the door when Bennett stopped me. “Hey, Texas?”
“What?” I needed to stop answering to that name.
“Have you ever let anyone copy your homework?”
My nose wrinkled. “Homework?”
“Yeah. At school. Back in the day. Could have been in grammar school, high school, or even college.”
Madison might not have done a single math assignment on her own for most of algebra. “Of course I did. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
***
My appointment went longer than I’d anticipated, and the office was almost emptied out by the time I got back. Marina, Bennett’s assistant—or rather our assistant—was just packing up her desk.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Did you let Bennett know I got delayed?”
She nodded as she pulled her purse from the drawer. “Are you ordering dinner? Because my Lean Cuisines are clearly marked with my name in the freezer in the employee kitchen.”