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Then I put the idle fantasies aside and get to work.
Time to prove I can do this job better than Other Jennifer—or anyone else.
The day flies by,as I meet the rest of the team, and get stuck into a thorough overview of the spa’s existing marketing materials and plans. From what I saw of the pop-up, I figured they would be all over the place, and sure enough, the materials Paloma sends over are like a brainstorming session on acid. Sure, there are nuggets of great ideas in here, but clearly, there’s been nobody calling the shots or reeling in Austin’s wilder flights of fancy.
A branded blimp dropping spa vouchers over Central Park? Sure, if he wants to leave his money drifting on the wind.
I dive in, warming to the challenge, and I’m so deep in work, I don’t even notice the sun dipping in the sky, until a voice from my doorway interrupts me.
“There she is,” Austin says, leaning against the frame. “Vital looks good on you.”
“Hi,” I say, flustered. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a Mets T-shirt, with a pizza box balanced in one hand. I swallow hard, overcome by the full sensory experience.
That man’s face and the scent of warm bread and melted mozzarella? It’s enough to make a girl’s mouth water.
“How were your meetings?” I ask, setting my laptop aside.
He shrugs. “Long. Complicated.” He holds up the box. “I thought I’d treat my new hire to a fancy business dinner.”
I smile. “Rossi’s,” I note approvingly. “My favorite slice in the city.”
“See, I knew you had taste.”
Austin takes a seat on the couch, and I join him, curling up in one of the chic stuffed armchairs. I reach for a slice, feeling weirdly self-conscious hanging out with him again. And not just because of the whole Other Jennifer Walker thing.
Nope. The butterflies in my stomach now are 100% Austin Banks.
“So,” he asks, “How are you settling in?”
I chew rapidly. “Great. There’s a lot to be working with.”
“I can see that.” He nods to the stacks of papers and notes I have spread in a neat formation. “I’m not expecting miracles, by the way. You’re allowed some time to get a feel for the place.”
“I wanted to hit the ground running,” I reply. “After all, launch is coming up soon.”
“Don’t remind me.” Austin winces. Then he
reaches for one of the folders, a grin spreading across his face. “Does this label sayrecon? As in reconnaissance?”
I grin. “Your idea. You’re researching rival spas, so I thought I’d do my due diligence on how they’re marketing, too.”
Austin pushes the pizza box toward me, and I take another slice. Part of me doesn’t want to scarf down something as messy as pizza in front of this god of a man, but the “wants pizza” part of me is the larger slice of the—well—pie chart.
Austin leans back in the chair, studying me. “So, marketing… Tell me about that.”
“Not much to tell,” I shrug. “I kind of fell into it, to be honest. I was just looking for a job to pay my student loans out of college, but… I like it. It’s about communication, you know?”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever had to market?” Austin asks, with a sly smile.
“A corporate law firm,” I answer, easily. “I’d tell you more, but then you’d nod off—face forward, right into the pizza sauce.”
He laughs. “That boring, eh?”
“Melatonin gummies had nothing on them,” I say, feeling a flicker of guilt. I need a topic change, ASAP. “So, was this always the plan? World spa domination?”
Austin chuckles. “No. Not at all. For a long time, baseball was everything. People were always telling me, the game doesn’t last forever. You’ve got an expiration date, you know? But I didn’t listen. Then I injured my shoulder, and…” he pauses. “Well, it was a big wakeup call. I spent a lot of time in rehab, and I realized, it wasn’t just about physical therapy. The treatments, the ritual, it all helped me heal. So, when I decided to retire, I decided to offer that to other people.”
“Were you a pitcher?” I ask, teasing. “Because that’s a hell of a pitch for Vital.”
