Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
She rolled her eyes. “Something, not someone.”
I chuckled. “Our happiness systems must work a little differently.”
Traffic had lightened up, and we were already halfway to the restaurant. “As riveting as this conversation is, why don’t I fill you in on the network before we get to lunch? We’re going to be at the restaurant soon.”
“I already read up.”
“Okay, then. Tell me what you know.”
Stella proceeded to rattle off facts about the ownership of the network, statistics on the types of products they sold, which were their best- and worst-performing items, and the qualities they looked for in partners. Then she detailed personal and professional information on both the host and co-host. She’d done more homework than I had.
“You’re thorough,” I said.
“Thank you.”
We stopped at a red light, and Stella shifted in her seat. She uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them in the opposite direction. It had been innocent enough, likely done in an effort to get more comfortable since we’d been sitting in the car for a while now, but the way my eyes ogled her bit of exposed thigh was anything but innocent.
Happiness system. A little leg worked for me. Why did women always have to overcomplicate shit?
***
Who was the woman I’d sat next to at lunch?
The same woman who’d spent fifteen minutes telling me all the details of a garage sale she went to at age twelve when all I’d asked was how she’d gotten into reading used diaries, the same woman who’d been sniffing barrels just a few hours ago, had morphed into an astute businesswoman. Rather than ramble on with stories, she listened—really listened—and quickly found the hot button for each of the key players at lunch. Then she subtly steered the conversation to those areas when she spoke. She’d had the network bigwigs eating out of the palm of her hand. Robyn Quinn even invited her to a woman’s leadership luncheon to talk about how she took an idea and made it into an innovative business.
The valet brought my car around first, so I shook hands with the group. Stella got hugs from the women. Once we were back on the road, she looked over at me.
“So…go ahead. Tell me what I did wrong.”
I glanced at her and back to the traffic ahead of me. “Wrong? What makes you think you did something wrong?”
“You’re quiet.”
“So?”
“You usually get all quiet and do this staring-at-me thing before you say something snarky. But you’re driving, so your eyes are stuck on the road.”
“Actually, I was thinking about how well lunch went. You did a great job. I might’ve made the introduction, but you sealed the deal.”
From my peripheral vision, I saw Stella blink a few times.
“Was that…a compliment? Are you giving my happiness system a test run?”
We stopped at a light, so I looked over at her. “Definitely not. Though I am capable of giving them when due.”
Her lips curved to an adorable smile. “I was good, wasn’t I?”
“I already gave you one compliment, let’s not go fishing for another so soon.”
She laughed. “Alright. I guess I’ll take what I can get.”
***
Three days later, my assistant buzzed in to my office. “Jack Sullivan is on the line for you.”
“Thanks, Helena.”
I leaned back in my chair and picked up the phone. “I know I still owe you a beer, but it’s only eight in the morning.”
Jack laughed. “Like we haven’t had beer for breakfast before.”
I smiled. “That was a lot of years ago.”
“Speak for yourself. You didn’t go to Frank’s bachelor party a few months ago.”
I chuckled. “What’s going on?”
“I have some news that should get you big points with your little girlfriend.”
I knew exactly who he was referring to, yet I said, “There’s no woman in my life at the moment. Plus, if there was, I wouldn’t need your sorry ass to help me earn points with her.”
“So you must not want to hear the news then…”
“Spit it out, Sullivan. What’s up?”
“There’s good news and bad news. The good news is, the new Steamer-Beamer—some sort of contraption that lets you get the wrinkles out of your clothes while wearing them—caused second-degree burns on one of our producers.”
“Someone you work with got burned? That’s the good news? I hate to hear the bad news.”
“Obviously it’s bad news for that dude. But it’s good news for you. The Home Shopping Channel had to yank the Steamer-Beamer from its scheduled spot, and that means they have an opening for a product with some immediate air time.”
“Oh yeah? Think Signature Scent might have a shot?”
“Better than a shot. Spot’s yours if you can be ready faster than you originally planned.”
The launch was set for nine weeks from now, but we could definitely speed things up a bit if needed. “No problem. When would we need to be ready?”
“That’s the bad news. You’d have to be ready next week.”