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Selfish bastard.
“This package was at the front desk for you.” She pulled an envelope from under her arm and then set the muffin on the foyer table.
“Thanks.” He took the large envelope from her. “They’re from the art department.” He scattered the various logos Vince had sent him across the coffee table. “We have a meeting this morning, and Grandfather insists on hard copies. He doesn’t like computers.”
“May I?” She looked over his shoulder at the artwork.
“Sure.” He waved her over. “We’ve been working on this logo for three weeks. The client hates everything we do. They fear if we can’t get the logo correct, how will we accomplish anything else? I’m afraid they’re right.”
She studied the pictures, placing several of them side by side.
“Vince sent this set.” He pointed to the new logo. “We’re conferencing with the client in less than thirty minutes.”
“I’ve seen your artists working on this before. There’s too much color.” She spoke with such confidence. It intrigued him enough to listen to what she had to say.
“Hmm.” He ran his hand along his jaw. “That’s what the client said, but Tyler didn’t agree. At first they approved our initial mock-ups of the logo but nothing we do seems to make them happy.”
“I think they’re looking for something vintage. You should tell Vince to do something with black and white, maybe a hint of teal or purple to make it stand out, but the lettering should almost look like a pencil drawing. He’ll know what I mean.”
She sounded as if she knew this campaign and Vince well. He wondered what went on in that art department after hours. “Have you worked on this logo?”
She shook her head, but he didn’t believe her. “I’m the cleaning girl. Remember?”
“You’re much more than that.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get downstairs. I’ll run your suggestions by Vince when we conference him in.” He gathered up the papers. “Thanks for your input.”
“No problem. It’s just a thought.” She grabbed the paper bag. “Don’t forget your muffin. I hope you like blueberry.”
“My favorite.” He took the bag from her. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“It’s my favorite too, and you’re welcome.”
“I should be done in about an hour. Would you like to have lunch down by the lake? It’s supposed to be a nice day.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“I’ll have the front desk arrange a picnic for us.”
“You can do that?”
“Sweetheart, I can pretty much do anything.”
“Smug much?”
“It’s a gift.” He kissed her cheek because he couldn’t resist. “I’ll be back soon.”
On his way down to a small conference room, he thought about Coda’s suggestions concerning the logo. Maybe it was worth a try. Nothing else seemed to work. Perhaps they needed a fresh take on the topic. She seemed to know what she was talking about.
Tyler walked into the conference room with a bottle of water. His eyes blazed red and his hair needed a comb.
“You look good.” Spencer went back to reviewing the specs.
“How is it that you manage not to look hung over?” He plopped down in the seat across from him. “You drank me under the table.”
“I doubt that.” His brother was three years younger and had much more practice at weekend drinking.
“How do you think you got back up to your room?”
“I don’t remember.” Spencer shook his head, disgusted with himself. “That’s not like me.”
