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“I think it’s beautiful down here,” I insisted passionately, and I wasn’t even acting. I couldn’t have lied about something like this. “The forests, the hills—even the light over the swamps. Sometimes I watch the sun going down over the lake at Hunter’s plantation—”
“Bet that’s not the only thing ‘going down’ at Hunter’s plantation,” one of the Douchebros muttered. The rest of the posse snickered and high-fived him.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Minister said in a tone that could have formed frost on palm leaves. “What did you just say?”
That’s right, boys. Never impugn a lady’s honor in front of an old-fashioned Southern gentleman.
But Chuck pulled together a fairly innocent look, and let his down-home accent that he usually worked so hard to conceal seep back into his voice. “Oh, nothing, sir. We were just hoping that Ally here was about to share what she’s been working on all this time at the Knox place. She’s been spending so much time on it, and we purely hope it’s something we can help her out on.”
Help yourself to the credit for, you mean, I thought.
“Yeah, Ally,” one of newest Douchebros, Seth, piped up. “Let’s hear all about this great new rebrand.”
Ben Minister raised his brows. “I admit I am rather intrigued myself. Hunter has been playing things quite close to his vest.”
“Well, I don’t want to spoil the big reveal for him,” I hedged. “He’s put so much work into unveiling it at the anniversary party; I couldn’t go and steal his thunder like that.”
“Understandable, completely understandable,” Mr. Minister agreed. “But surely you could give us a few hints…?”
And damn, I couldn’t refuse, not without looking like a flake who hadn’t been doing any real work. I had to tell him something at least a little bit concrete, even though I could see the Douchebros practically salivating, eager to get their grimy paws on my concepts.
“Well,” I began hesitantly, “it’s focusing on a lot of the history of the product. We’ve been collecting some oral histories from local sources—”
“Booo-ring!” Chad said with an eye roll that made me concerned for the strain on his facial muscles. “The only oral sources the American public wants are a hot blonde in a—”
Chuck discreetly elbowed him in the ribs.
“I think what my colleague is saying,” he went on smoothly, “is that while Miss Bartlett’s plan is certainly noble, it is also untried. Whereas his own marketing strategy has been the basis for every successful ad campaign since the advent of behaviorism and Dr. Skinner. New ideas are enticing, of course, but a man of your commitments—so noble, by the way, I was so pleased to see someone standing up for his community—a man of your sizeable commitments can hardly afford to take on such a risk when a tried and true method presents itself as an alternative.”
Minister looked back and forth between Chad and Chuck, filled with distaste for the former, and wavering towards the reasonable-sounding words of the latter. He had almost forgotten I existed. Now would be the perfect time to remind him.
“If by ‘tried and true,’ you mean ‘tired,’ then sure. Strategies don’t work perfectly forever. The numbers already show the American public is getting tired of being talked down to. In fact—”
And then I saw Hunter and Paige, and I forgot what words were.
Paige was looking evanescently beautiful in a gauzy princess gown of pale peach pink, her tresses swept up into something out of a Cinderella storybook. Her smile lit the room.
And Hunter…
A black tuxedo hugged every muscled inch of his body, a deep red tie and pocket square flashing like blood against it. His shirt was golden in a way that brought out the feral energy of his eyes. That barely contained energy was in his movements too, quick, sharp, a predator on the prowl. A grin lifted his lips, the light glinting off his teeth.
His hand was resting possessively, as if its placement were perfectly natural, on the small of my sister’s back.
“Excuse me?” Ben Minister’s voice intruded through my haze. “Miss Bartlett? Are you quite all right?”
“Well, she was trying to do math,” Chad said, “probably strained something. You know lady brains can’t handle that stuff.”
Mr. Minister’s lips thinned, and Chuck looked as though he would murder his current ally if there were fewer witnesses. It was probably easier to be business partners with sexist pieces of shit when they were less obvious, but Chuck had the tools he had.
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