She looks up at me for just enough time to scowl. “I am wearing pajamas, but I’m here . . . And I think I’m going to pass out. I donotexercise enough.”
“You’re late.”
She stands up straighter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “But I’m here, Evan.”
I check my watch. “Twohourslate.”
“Look, Branson, I’m so—” She actuallygagsinstead of finishing her sentence and I roll my eyes.
“Seriously?”
“Fuck. I’m trying,” she mutters. Scarlett clears her throat, closing her eyes for a second as if she can’t bear to get her next words out. “I . . .apologize. I got carried away with familystuff and I didn’t check the time. This is the first time this has happened, so could you just lay off me?”
I consider what she’s saying.
It is true. Scarlett has always been punctual. It’s one of the things that I admire about her. How she puts effort into the things she cares about and shows up for things that matter. I also don’t know what family stuff she has going on at the minute. From the little information I’ve been managing to get out of my dad while I’m virtually banned from B&Co, I’ve heard Voss have been doing pretty well this quarter. Maybe even a little better than we are.
“Fine,” I say eventually, and she lets out a breath of relief. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”
“Yes, sir.” Heat rushes up my neck in a way it absolutely shouldn’t when she says those words. There’s a slight glint in her eyes, similar to the one that was there at the hockey game, and I don’t know what to do with it. She makes the decision for me and tilts her head to the side. “Now are you gonna relax so we can get some work done?”
I nod, turning back in the direction of the library, and Scarlett follows behind me. I return to the seat I just vacated, unload my textbooks and laptop back onto the table and Scarlett does the same.
“What are we working on today?” Scarlett asks, glancing over her notes.
I clear my throat. “So, we’ve already landed on what kind of business we want to do.”
“Right, EcoElegance,” she says, reciting the brief summary we put together last week. “A sustainable fashion brand, focusing on eco-friendly material and ethical production practices.”
I smile. “So, you do pay attention?”
“The whole thing was basically my idea anyway.”
I scoff. “Okay, now that we’ve got a starting point and figured out how we’d make it work, we have to think about our debut. How it would work in stores, launch events, potential collaborations for brand deals, etcetera.”
Scarlett nods thoughtfully. “It shouldn’t be too hard. It’s something we’re both pretty familiar with.”
“Exactly.”
We start brainstorming potential plans for a launch campaign, bouncing off each other until we put a list together of places and people we’d keep in mind if EcoElegance were to launch next week. We’re both on the same page for most of them until we bring up the East Coast.
“I don’t know about New York,” she mumbles, tapping her pen against her laptop.
“The fashion capital of the country?” I ask slowly.
“I’m not too sure about bigger events. Especially for a brand like this. We could focus on smaller venues and places, capitalize on niche communities and smaller creators.”
It’s not a bad idea, but still I ask, “Why?”
“Too much press and media coverage the first few weeks of the brand’s release could be damaging if we’re not careful,” she says, folding her arms against her chest.
“It could also boost it,” I suggest. “Any press is good press.”
Scarlett hums quietly, still not convinced. We don’t have to agree on everything. I think Lawrence would prefer it if we didn’t. It would make the presentation part of the final phase a lot more interesting. Besides, we didn’t get this far without a few arguments along the way.
“I’m just thinking about that time your dad showed up late to his own ribbon-cutting ceremony for your store in New York and it was a whole scandal because he was so clearly hungover.”
I loosen the tie around my neck on instinct. “He had just started a new medication. He wasn’t hungover,” I say, the same rehearsed lines I gave journalists at the time.
