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She knitted her fingers. “Not too well. They’ve got some young and sexy creatives, but we’re a luxury brand pitched at an older market. As you might know. You have done your homework?”
“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Because Hunter was the brains behind Elliot’s. Along with your daddy. You, however, haven’t had much to do with running things. Those all-nighters wouldn’t have given you much time, I imagine.”
Taking it on the chin, I squared my shoulders. “I know all about Mondaine. Your Riviera cruises are famous. My mother goes on them regularly. The family has a close affiliation with the Lohans, and I know all about Jack Whitman.”
She tilted her head. “That’s right—you were buddies once.”
“You seem to know a lot about me.”
“This is a small place.”
“So why are you doing business with him?” I asked.
“Because business is business.” She raised an eyebrow. “And he made an offer we couldn’t refuse.”
“Okay. But it’s about quality, isn’t it? You just admitted the campaigns aren’t working.”
She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, and her eyes slowly moved up to my face. “Why don’t we finish our drinks and go somewhere dark and steamy?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“You want our contract again, don’t you?” She leaned forward, revealing her cleavage.
“I do. But I’m not going to fuck you or anyone for it.” I recalled Ms. Sharp’s suggestion that I seduce my way to getting results. On my terms, seduction was fun. A sport. But I had a moral standard, and last night, I’d told Ivy I wanted us to be an us.
“Cassandra. I’m not going to fuck you. We do it the right way or not at all.”
She laughed. “Oh my… you really are out of touch, aren’t you? No one does things the right way around here. It’s fucking Darwinian.”
“Survival of the fittest, I get that.” I combed my hair back roughly.
She cocked her head with a sympathetic smile. “I’m only playing with you. I don’t need you to fuck me. I’m seeing someone anyway.”
My muted sigh of relief puffed out so hard, the serviette from the adjacent table fluttered to the ground.
“Why don’t you take him to your reunion tonight?”
“Because he is a she.” She smiled tightly.
“Oh.” Now I was really puzzled. I looked around. “Did we really do it?”
She giggled at my delicate tone. “Fuck, you mean?”
I nodded.
“No. I was just playing with you.” She chuckled. “I prefer clits to dicks.”
“We have that in common,” I said, my chest unknotting for the first time since arriving. “So why the ruse? Why ask me to shave and all this flirting and innuendo?”
“Why not?” Her brow rose. “It got you here, didn’t it? And I’m a teaser. I like playing on people’s guilt.”
“I don’t have a guilty conscience. All the women I’ve been with have been consenting and enthusiastic.”
She sipped her martini. “Come up with a killer campaign for me. We also want to expand into the New Age cruise market.”
“Are you offering us a brief?”
