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Floatmakers in 2003 with her partners Graham Naquin and Josh Laborde when the three post-grad students, on a whim, created a sci-fi float for the Krewe of Vader, a satirical sci-fi fantasy krewe started by Jimmie Ray Dietzel. The three friends’ collaboration led to a passionate venture”—Gigi wiggled her eyebrows—“which united a film student, an engineer, and an art history graduate in like purpose. Building their floats using high-tech materials, cutting-edge light displays and fuel-efficient design has vaulted the ‘Little Engine That Could’ into the big leagues in float design.”
Gigi stopped reading out loud and skimmed the article, her lips moving as fast as her blue eyes. “Wow, he sold his interest in the company and moved to Houston to work for NASA.”
Tess looked away. She didn’t want to know any more. Something about Graham having a relationship with Monique Dryden made the coffee curdle in her stomach. She’d met Monique many times at fundraisers and the occasional Mardi Gras ball and had found the vivacious brunette to be smart and gorgeous. She’d always made Tess feel a giantess next to her dark, diminutive beauty.
“All this is pretty interesting… almost coincidental,” Gigi said. “You sure he didn’t know who you were? This smells funny.”
“He didn’t. I never gave him my last name, and obviously my father didn’t care to mention his daughter Tess frequents Two-Legged Pete’s and takes home random hot guys. Graham didn’t have any more of a clue than I did. I’m certain about that. Besides, how would it have benefited him? My dad didn’t tell me what was going on.”
Gigi stared out the window at the world moving by in the late afternoon light. “Know what you should do?”
“I’m scared to ask,” Tess joked, trying to forget she was devastated, trying to find what little humor she had left after cleaning out her desk and passing her key to Billie.
“You should talk to Monique Dryden about a job. Bet she would love to sink her teeth into you.” Gigi gave a sharky lawyer grin.
Tess made a face. “That would be… I don’t know… too weird. Plus, it’s doubtful she has an opening.”
“Don’t know until you ask, do you? And how awesome would that be? You’d totally teach your dad and Mr. Fancy Pants Naquin a lesson.”
“But it’s”—Tess rooted around for the right word—“treason. I’ll stick with trying freelance design or something. I can’t work at a rival company.”
“Why not? It’s a job. Your father screwed you, and Graham Naquin literally screwed you. Don’t play the victim. Turn the tables on them.”
Gigi didn’t understand family the way Tess did. Her best friend’s parents had split in a bitter, contested divorce rendering their only daughter a bone to be fought over. Finally after winning joint custody, Gigi’s father moved to California and pretty much forgot about the daughter “he loved beyond himself.” The whole messy affair had left Gigi cynical.
“I’m not you, Gigi. Ullo is part of my family and I can’t hurt my family.”
Gigi just stared at her for a good ten seconds. Censure, and maybe disappointment that Tess wasn’t jumping to get revenge on her father and Graham, clearly visible on her face.
Seriously, how could Tess work for the company that had given Frank Ullo the most competition over the past two years? Sounded too in-your-face for Tess’s taste.
Then again, Gigi wasn’t totally off base. Working for Upstart would be a great way to prove to her father he’d made a colossal mistake, and Tess could prove to herself she could make it in this business without her father’s name. Would it really be so evil?
The hurt, bitter part of her said no. And the tied-to-her family, devoted part of her screamed yes.
But loyalty to family went both ways, didn’t it?
Her father hadn’t felt compelled to keep it all in the family… so why should she?
Self-doubt gathered inside Tess. What if everything she thought she’d been was a lie? What if she wasn’t as good at designing floats or hustling krewes as she assumed she was? What if everyone else had pulled Tess’s weight, winking at each other over the boss’s daughter’s incompetence? What if she sucked?
Tess glanced at the computer. Hell, she couldn’t even write a resume. What was the difference between freelancing float designs and anchoring a desk at another company? Not much.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to drop by Upstart with a resume… if I can get the stupid thing finished,” Tess said, gulping the last of her coffee, wishing she didn’t even have to think about interviews, family loyalty, or the fact she forgot to grab her favorite water bottle out of the company fridge. She couldn’t think past the hurt… and Gigi wasn’t helping by planting the seeds of rebellion within her.
Gigi smiled, obviously pleased Tess considered her diabolical plan for revenge. Blood in the water excited her, made her hungry rather than faint. “Bold, ballsy and very Tess-like.”
“What do you mean?”
Gigi shrugged. “We’re friends for a reason. You might smile and laugh more than I do, but we both have an innate need for justice, for righting wrong, and bringing balance to the world. And we do what it takes.”
Is that what taking a job with another Mardi Gras float builder would be? Righting a wrong? Didn’t feel that way, but Tess longed to prove everything she’d done as an executive in her father’s company wasn’t because she was an Ullo but rather because she was good at her job. She trampled the self-doubt and thought about how satisfactory it would be to work for the company Graham had abandoned. There was something deliciously wicked about turning that screw… a sort of a flagrant “suck it, big boy.”
“You’re right. I’m ballsy and I right wrongs. I should have a cape.”
Gigi laughed. “Get a green one. Matches your eyes.”
Tess rolled those green eyes. “Besides, a job is a job, and right now I need one. So I better get this resume finished so I can pound the pavement tomorrow. Hmm… never had to do that before. I’m liking the challenge of having to really earn my way. Is that crazy?”
