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“Julian, sit down or go fetch more coffee. You’re driving me batty with your hovering,” Miles said, leafing through the contract Graham had brought, his legs stretched in front of him, huge leather desk chair tilted back.
“I don’t hover,” Julian drawled, pressing his hands down the skin-tight chambray jacket. Slim white trousers tailored down to classic oxfords. A jaunty bow tie, moussed hair, and dark edgy glasses completed his dapper look. “But I will go for coffee if you want. Mr. Naquin?”
“None for me, thanks,” Graham said, waving a hand and trying to look at home while his gut clenched awaiting Miles’s response. This deal meant the difference between a decent upcoming year and a subpar one… and he’d seen what Upstart had delivered.
“I don’t need the caffeine anyway,” Miles muttered. “Just work on the Happy Burger case.”
Julian held up a hang loose sign and then the door snicked closed, leaving Miles to continue his hmms after reviewing each page.
Finally, the large man set the contracts followed by the numbered float specs on his desk and looked up at Graham. “Interesting.”
“I think so, and I think it’s a solid proposal. Dave Wegmann, our art director, took your vision and created something over-the-top, and we’re offering you more perks than we’ve ever offered the krewe. Frank Ullo wants to keep you happy, Miles.”
Miles nodded, making a teepee of his hands atop his large stomach. “And I like that. But this isn’t brain surgery, right? I like the relationship I have with Ullo. We’ve always used you guys, but I gotta admit there have been some issues in the past with labor costs and parade day glitches. This new outfit Frank’s daughter is working for has promised me those bumps will be smoothed out. Her floats aren’t exactly what I was looking for, but sometimes the experience with prop builders is more important.”
“Not what you’re looking for?” Graham said, leaning forward, his emotions mixed. Something within him hitched at the thought of Miles not liking what Tess had created for Oedipus. How could anyone not appreciate the designs she’d created? “I actually saw a few of them. Too elaborate?”
Miles made a face. “Since when has an artist for a rival company ever showed her designs? And, no, that wasn’t the issue. Not detailed enough, in my opinion.”
Something prickled on the back of Graham’s neck. “I won’t comment on how, but I thought they were exquisite, detailed and, honestly, better than ours.” He pressed a hand against his head and mumbled, “I probably shouldn’t have said that. Stupid.”
Miles chuckled. “Look, guy, this ain’t Wall Street and though business is business, you know how things are run in New Orleans. I don’t hold nothin’ against you as long as it don’t affect me.”
Graham rocked back in his chair, discomfited, as Miles spun his chair. An attorney by day, krewe captain by whatever was left over after billable hours, Miles didn’t seem to be the most organized of men. Which is probably why he spun back around empty-handed and pressed a button on his phone. “Julian!”
“You don’t have to yell into the phone, Miles,” Julian drawled like the smart-ass he obviously was.
“Get me the Upstart proposal,” Miles said, ignoring Julian’s tone.
“As your generation says, ‘ten-four,’ big guy,” Julian responded.
Five seconds later the assistant entered and handed off the bonded proposal. He turned and winked at Graham.
“Don’t mind him. Bold as the devil, but the best legal assistant I’ve had. He’s taking the LSATs next month so I’ll probably lose him,” Miles said, opening the proposal. “This is what the courier brought.”
He passed it to Graham who flipped through quickly. None of Tess’s designs were in the proposal. Graham snapped it closed. “I’m confused.”
Miles lifted his wooly eyebrows. “Why?”
“These aren’t the sketches I saw.”
The big man shrugged. “This is what I got.”
“Hmmm,” Graham said, shaking his head. Something was rotten in Denmark. He hadn’t prodded Tess any further about business—they’d been busy exploring other pleasurable things, and when they’d parted this morning, they’d agreed to go back to whatever it was they had before, each agreeing it had to be over for now. Tess had given him one night, perhaps relying on their lovemaking as a time-released medication, working long enough to get her through the next few weeks. Or maybe it was merely a last ditch effort to get him out of her system. Or maybe he didn’t know what it was other than it had given him another taste of something he wanted so badly, and that would have to do him for a while.
But he had a bad feeling about what Monique had obviously done. His ex-partner and lover used Tess to bring in business, like a prized carrot dangled in front of krewe royalty. But if Monique didn’t value Tess as part of her team beyond some honeyed trap, there was going to be an issue. Tess deserved to be valued as a designer… as a team member. Monique had quite deceitfully hog-tied her, subbing what he was quite certain were his ex’s own designs instead of Tess’s. Monique’s biggest flaw had always been her hubris. She had always been unable to let go of her need to control every aspect of Upstart.
If a CEO wasn’t willing to toss his or her own pride aside and rely on the person best for the job, then all the efforts to nab new business would be for naught.
This was where Frank Ullo trumped Monique.
“Miles, if that’s so, you should know Tess’s designs are ten times better than what’s in this proposal,” Graham said, slapping the Upstart proposal on the oak desk. “And they’re better than my proposal. God help me.”
Miles narrowed his eyes, looking confused. “So why? If Monique wanted the Oedipus contract, why wouldn’t she give her best?”
Graham licked his lips and thought how to say what needed to be said without sounding crass. “There is much to admire about Monique, but she’s, how do I put this, sometimes shortsighted and overconfident in her own abilities over those she employs?”
Miles flashed a smile. “Hers are good sketches, nothing wrong with them, but if she knew—”
