Page 566 of Manhattan Bossholes

I still couldn’t get to my notes on the new tablet, which made me look like I didn’t know how to work it—which I totally did, but I might’ve forgotten where I’d put them. I had a full plan, but it wasn’t ready for general consumption quite yet, especially since I hadn’t priced it all out. Again, I wasn’t expecting to have to present it within my first hours of starting.

Time to sink or swim.

“Okay,” I said. My palms were so sweaty I was afraid to put them on the table because I knew they’d leave streaks behind on the glossy surface. “Okay. So, I’m thinking we need some sort of outside influence to help bring more attention to Veritique.”

I saw Cameron frowning at me all the way down the mile-long table. Couldn’t he at least give me the benefit of the doubt before judging me?

“It’s not that we need help or anything,” I quickly clarified, “because Veritique is a powerhouse. But my idea is that we can double our exposure by partnering with an influencer who is in the business of love, who can amplify our message. People eat that sort of thing up, and it’s super scalable.”

“We don’t do partnerships,” Cameron scowled. “No model collabs, no capsule collections. We’re not about that sort of thing.”

I wasn’t surprised he immediately shot me down. I already knew Veritique considered themselves above the sorts of marketing alliances most companies worked into their budgets every year.

“And has that been working for you?” I asked simply.

A few people gasped. Clearly, I’d entered a minefield just by being a little bit sassy.

Okay, a lot bit. Whatever.

“Do you want to see our annual report?” Cameron glowered back at me. “Trust me, we’re doing just fine.”

“Not as well as we were before the fallout from the mine conditions crisis,” a man I’d met that morning named Jeffrey said quickly.

Cameron seemed to be ready to combust in his leather chair.

“Exactly,” I said, hoping to take some of the heat from Jeffrey, since he’d stuck up for me in a roundabout way. “Which is why a new approach might be a good thing.”

“Fine. Keep going,” Cameron said begrudgingly.

I dug deep and found a reserve of kickass I didn’t know I had. “I propose,” I laughed self-consciously at my little joke, “that we partner up with Lucy Dubois. Does everyone here know her?”

I looked around the table to find most heads nodding, because of course the marketing folks knew her. The woman had built an influencer empire that almost rivaled the Kardashians, with product tie-ins that resulted in major gains for her partner brands. She had a rabid following that did whatever she told them to. Connecting with Lucy was an even bigger no-brainer partnership because she was known for her “forever-ever or never-ever” trend, where she could predict which celebrity couples were going to make it to the altar, and which were going to split up. She was eerily good at it—no one else had a track record as strong as hers.

“Who the hell is Lucy Dubois?” Cameron asked in a frustrated voice, looking around the table and frowning like it was our fault he wasn’t up to date on pop culture.

“She’s an influencer,” Sandrine answered for me. “Or should I say, she’s the influencer when it comes to romance and relationships.”

The smartboard behind him shifted to an image of a smiling Lucy Dubois, then a slow scroll through her feed. Cameron turned to it and frowned at the screen. “It’s all Hollywood stuff.”

“Hollywood romance stuff,” I corrected. “Which works perfectly for us. So far none of her brand deals have explicitly tapped into that part of her influence—it’s mainly been makeup and clothing lines that she uses and wears. But if we connect with her and get her to pair her wedding bell predictions with our rings? Tons of eyeballs. And probably a ton of copycat purchases. People want to act like celebrities, so if they can have a celeb-adjacent ring…”

“Brilliant! I love it,” Sandrine said.

“Spell it out,” Cameron barked, staring only at me. “Give me a concrete example of what you mean.”

This, I could do. “Okay, so right now Lucy is predicting that Joe, the lead singer from Calculated Mischief and Jen R. from that baking show are going to get engaged within the next three months. She could do a post and say that Joe should propose using our Veritique Iconic ring, since they’re an iconic duo. Or maybe we could do a staged paparazzi shot where Jen is in our flagship store with Joe, and then Lucy makes the prediction about which ring they’re considering? There’s a ton of ways we could work this partnership.”

The murmurs around the table sounded positive. I stared at Cameron, waiting for him to defy logic and shoot me down.

“I like it.”

Shocker—the man could see reason! I tried not to break into a victory grin.

“But,” he continued, “I need numbers. And I want our research department to go deep on her background before we approach her with an offer. She needs to be squeaky clean. Once all of that’s complete, I want to meet her in person. If I don’t like her, it’s not happening.”

I had no idea if Lucy would clear Cameron’s hurdles, but I was thrilled he’d given my idea an initial green light.

Maybe things were going to be okay with my bosshole after all?