Chapter 12
Antonio
She’s nervous.I pretty much surmised that the moment she flung the door open to greet me—her frazzled green eyes resisting my eagergaze.
If she were mine, I would have scooped her up in my armsand—
What the hell does it matter? She’snotmine. Women like her won’t give someone like me the time of day. Instead, I attract women who are on a fast track mission toward fame andfortune.
Can I be in aCraveMecommercial? What about theCraveMecatalog?OrCan you introduce me to a movie producer?As if I’ve gotquid pro quotattooed across mychest.
It’s no wonder I’ve never been in love—though it’s not like I haven’t tried. God knows I have. Yet, the struggle to find someone interested injustme isreal.
I know, I know…boo-freaking-hoo for the handsome rich dude who can’t find love,right?
I can’t help but think Daniella could very well be theone. It’s an indisputable sensation I get each time I lay eyes on her. Not a carnal sensation; well yeah, I’m not gonna lie—that too. I mean seriously, she is felicitouslyhot.
And when I see her, I see a woman who’s meant for me, and I am not sure why,exactly.
“Okay,” Daniella speaks softly as she stands behind her laptop that’s propped on the end of the large oval-shaped boardroom table. She bites on her bottom lip. “Jonah, will you please turn the lightsdown?”
Jonah lifts a small remote control off the table and forcefully points it to the ceiling, effectively dimming the lights. He offers Daniella two thumbs up and says, “Missionaccomplished.”
She looks at Jonah then to me; an intrepid smile emerges, complementing her flawless features. “Gentlemen, brace yourself forGet Your Chic On—A Tribute To ConfidentWomen.”
Stepping to the side, Daniella fans out one arm, gesturing us to divert our attention to the large projection screen. “Women. They make up eighty percent of those who purchaselingerie.”
Scrolling across the screen are images of women donning provocative lingerie, as they stand in front of a mirror, seductively studying their ownreflection.
With one hand on her hip and one sexy-as-hell, stiletto-enhanced foot jutted out, Daniella goes on, “And why is that? It’s simple. In order to be sexy, a woman must firstfeelsexy. And feeling sexy exudes more than simple allurement. Sexy exudes confidence.” She pivots, and begins pacing back and forth in front of the projection screen. “Confidence to conquer the day. Confidence to ace that job interview. Confidence to boost up her self-esteem when she’s feeling a little down. And of course…confidence to please herman.”
Jonah leans back in his seat, placing his Nike-covered feet up on the table, and grins. “Well, alright, now! I think I like where this isheaded.”
I chuckle at his enthusiasm, then lean forward in my seat, giving Daniella my undividedattention.
She places both hands on the table and leans forward with a resolute gaze glued to me and Jonah. “Gentlemen, what better way to showcaseCraveMethan with beautifully confident women, strutting down the catwalk, wearing an assortment ofCraveMepieces—from elegant designs to naughtydesigns.”
My eyebrows rise with interest all on theirown.
“Our models will tastefully prance the runway,” she continues, “to music from an era in which ladies vocalized songs with just the right blend of bad-assery and sassyconfidence.”
Jonah nods. “And from what musical era would that be,exactly?”
Daniella stands tall, arms folded as she brandishes an audacious smirk. “The1980s.”
Jonah smiles while I internallycringe.
She takes a few steps toward her seat and spills into it. “Think about it. Female pop vocalists of the ’80s were strong and confident with fierce vocals that were packed with messages of empowerment. These women came across as being in charge of their own destiny, and that confidence made them sexy without beingjustsexy. We can give models big ’80s hair and makeup. Some dressed only inCraveMepieces while others will be dressed in clothes withCraveMepieces underneath. For instance, imagine Donna Summer’sShe Works Hard For The Moneyblaring in the background. Our models swagger along the walk, briefcases in hand, sleek hair pulled back, eyeglasses, dressed in tight miniskirts and a formfitting blazer; only, underneath the blazer is a very prominentCraveMebra.”
Silence consumes the room for a briefsecond.
Jonah stands and claps his hands. “Nowthisis a woman who knows her shit. Antonio, my man, you must admit this is freaking gold righthere.”
I rock back and forth in my chair as I rub the small amount of stubble growing along my chin. I really can’t stand music from the ’80s—and Jonah of all people knows this all too well. Yet, what Daniella suggests may just work. If we add the right amount of lighting and match the right pieces with the right songs, this could beCraveMe’sknock-it-out-of-the-park year inMilan.
I sit up in my chair and look to Daniella whose confidence seems to be dwindling, most likely due to my silence. “Great job. I love it. Even though ’80s music isn’t typically mything.”
Jonah cackles at the last part of my comment and plops back down in hisseat.
