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James gives him a tight smile. “I’m extremely proud of my team.”

“It shows,” Andre replies.

Dinner proceeds with the typical pleasantries. Wallace looks a little confused but I can only pray the kid can hold his tongue. With these types of clients, you never rush right into business. You need to woo them, almost like a woman you’re trying to convince to come back to your place after dinner. She’s not just going to come with you if you ask within the first ten minutes. She needs you to show her that you’re worth her time. Are you going to savor her the same way you do the ten-inch porterhouse on your plate? Or will you rush through the act like a kid scarfing down an ice cream cone?

I can’t imagine a man like Andre Lavin scarfing anything. He needs to see that we’re not only the best team to take over his marketing but also that we’re people he can work with.

We need him to like us.

As the waitress is clearing the entrees, Andre looks around the table with satisfaction. “Perhaps it is old-fashioned but I care to meet with any agencies that work on our marketing directly. It’s important that the people crafting our image understand what we’re about here at Lavin Fashions.”

Everyone instantly ceases their side conversations and pays attention. Now we’re getting to the good stuff. The reason we’re all here.

“What is your vision of Lavin Fashions, Mr. Lavin?” Mya asks. “I’ve read the official company mission statement but I would love to hear it from you.”

“Please, call me Andre.”

The way he’s looking at her makes it seem like he just wants to hear her say his name. My hand sitting on top of the table curls into a fist. It’s unsettling that this bothers me. He’s just a client, throwing a little charm at the pretty ad executive. I’ve seen it plenty of times and I’ve drawn my fair share of clients, male and female, flirting with me.

None of those made me want to growl in frustration. Or made me worry that Mya might actually want to flirt back.

“It’s much more than just the clothes,” Andre begins after a brief pause. “Our brand creates the garments that become part of people’s memories. And for our newest venture we’re looking for a partner that understands the importance of family, friendship, love.”

The woman sitting next to him sniffs. Cristiane Laveque. From my research on the Lavin team, I know that she’s a top designer for Lavin Fashions.

“Apologies but this is not a strength of American companies, we have found. So few understand l’amore.” She shakes her head ruefully as if the vulgar ways of the American market are just too much.

Mentally I’m rolling my eyes but this could be a real obstacle to winning their business. If they think that we’re not cultured enough, it will be difficult to change that opinion. Granted, Mirage does plenty of “American” commercials and brands, but it’s not like we’re all racecars and beer. We have plenty of upper echelon brands in the jewelry, hotel and entertainment industries.

“I believe Mirage can handle anything. We have such a diverse workforce that all of our clients find someone they can relate to. We also have more women in leadership roles than many of our competitors.”

Maybe that’ll calm her fears that we don’t get l’amore. Mya in particular handles a lot of brands that cater to women including a high profile lingerie line.

Andre sits back in his chair and seems to be considering her words. “I must admit we’ve been approached by other firms that are run by people who are married. They understand what brides want.”

James sits up straighter. “So, it is a bridal line?”

Andre laughs lightly. “Yes, the rumors are true. Lavin Fashions will introduce a new line called Lavin Bridal next year. It will be a separate division of the company which is why I’m meeting with investors. I didn’t want word to get out too early until it was all finalized.”

James looks like he’s going to be sick. This is why Elizabeth has been so smug. She must have heard the Lavin group wanted someone who has been through the process of planning a wedding. Just another way for her to rub her recent marriage in James’s face.

“I’m sure all the women on our team have mentally planned their dream wedding even if they aren’t married.” I send a panicked glance at Mya.

This would be a really good fucking time for her to pipe in with some story of how she’s been dreaming of her wedding dress since she was a little girl.

Unfortunately Andre seems to be following my line of thought because he turns directly to Mya, too. “If you were planning a wedding, for example,” he says, “wouldn’t you want a wedding planner who was married?”

Mya pauses with her water glass halfway to her mouth. “Well, yes. I suppose I would.”

James just blinks. Wallace pauses mid-chew with a piece of iceberg lettuce hanging from his lip. The whole table seems stunned into silence. She didn’t mean to say that, you can see it on her face. But in a rare, caught off guard moment, Mya had done the unforgivable.

Been honest.

An awkward silence descends over the table. James takes another gulp from his scotch. Across from me, members of the Lavin team exchange significant glances before taking an interest in their plates. Worst of all, Andre Lavin just looks amused.

While Mya looks devastated.

You know how sometimes you can look back on a moment and identify the precise moment you fucked up. Well, later tonight I’m sure I’ll be looking back and remembering the exact second I pushed us all off the cliff together.

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