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Lola unclenched her jaw and applied her glossy nude lipstick. She didn’t have any real competition. No other agency could compete with Dominion. They were the most prestigious firm in Miami, known for launching superstars. Lola just had to convey that aura of exclusivity to Kiki.
By the end of the ridiculous video message Kiki had requested instead of a traditional pitch, Kiki would understand that Dominion was in a league of its own. She’d talk up Natalia too, mention how she was personally mentored by the legendary founder.
Who wouldn’t be impressed by Natalia’s impeccable reputation and awe-inspiring presence? Lola would mention the compound Natalia owned in the Keys for spoiling top clients, the insider connections, the prestige.
Kiki would realize what an immense opportunity she was being handed to have Natalia’s firm backing her. An influencer like her, with the right guidance, could turn her little brand and a few thousand likes into an empire.
Lolacouldmake that happen. She knew it. She just had to convince Kiki that no one else would fight harder for her career. That no matter what any other shitty wannabe agent said, Dominion was the only agency run by a group of female-identified queers who would never compromise on a client’s identity and integrity. They’d never advise Kiki to tone herself down to appeal to a wider audience. Kiki had no idea what that counted for in show business. But she would.
Stepping back, Lola checked the pencil skirt she’d changed into for the video. It was much shorter than she’d usually wear, the navy blue material up to the middle of her thighs, but it did make her look kind of hot. A little sexy. A little dangerous. Kiki would like that.
Lola squared her shoulders, gathering her confidence. She’d walk out of this bathroom ready to deliver the pitch of a lifetime, no matter how many other agents were circling. Kiki would sign with Dominion and Lola would turn her into an unmitigated star. Failure wasn’t an option.
Smoothing her blazer, Lola willed herself not to feel like an imposter. She was comfortable. In control. She just had to believe it.
At least Natalia was on a flight to New York to woo an artist she’d met at Art Basel a couple of weeks ago, so she wouldn’t see what she was doing. As progressive as Natalia was about their agency, she was just as old school in her tactics.
No, this was fine. Natalia would applaud Lola’s ingenuity and creativity in pitching a new client, as long as it worked. And it would work. Kiki was completely new to the industry — she’d understand that she needed someone savvy like Lola and a powerhouse agency like Dominion to cultivate her fleeting internet fame into an actual enduring career.
Plus, Lola had already orchestrated a taste of what she’d bring. Sure that she was the only agent coming to Kiki with more than just promises, she’d lined up a meeting with a production company. She’d pitched the idea of Kiki hosting a new queer reality dating show.
Lola had come up with an irresistible premise — gorgeous contestants would couple up on a luxury yacht sailing around the Caribbean, and get voted off at glamorous ports of call if they failed to make meaningful connections. The working title wasAll Aboard for Love. It was just the type of flashy, melodramatic show that viewers craved. Kiki, with her gorgeous hourglass body and stunning smile, would be a perfect host.
Lola leaned closer to the mirror, smoothing a wisp of hair back into place. Her thoughts wandered to the last time she’d been out on a date. It had been months… no, a year. Was it two? It had been a woman she’d met while attending a fundraiser, but she barely remembered her face.
When she tried to picture her, all she could see was Carmen. The memories of her swarmed Lola’s mind, crisp and bright and visceral. The memory of her kiss, her touch, was still a jolt of electricity through her body. She could feel her on every inch of her skin. Taste her on her lips.
She shook her head, forcing the image away. Carmen was nothing but an unwanted distraction. This video pitch had to go perfectly.
Squaring her shoulders, Lola strode out of the bathroom with purpose. She was going to film herself in the sleek glass conference room, the sparkling Biscayne Bay and distant private islands visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. The glamorous backdrop would leave no doubt in Kiki’s mind that signing with Dominion was everything she wanted.
Lola was approaching the busy bullpen when a commotion on the other side of the frosted glass door leading to the reception area stopped her advance. With Adriana and Natalia both out of the office, she was the senior-most agent in charge.
Determined to resolve the problem, Lola pushed open the door to find Carmen in a silky, white shell top and high-waisted charcoal trousers arguing with Martina. She froze, momentarily thrown. Had she conjured Carmen with her thoughts?
“What’s going on?” Lola projected every ounce of confidence and authority she didn’t actually feel.
Carmen’s gaze cut to her, bright hazel and nearly disarming until she opened her mouth. “Oh, look. My little ray of darkness is here.”
“I told her she couldn’t just walk in here—” Martina started, but Lola held up her hand the way Natalia would.
“I’ve got it,” Lola said, eyes trained on Carmen.
Martina crossed her arms over her chest, making no move to the door. It was a challenge. A test.
Lola had no intention of looking ineffectual in front of her or Carmen. She lifted her chin, wishing Martina didn’t have the physique of a freaking giraffe. Lola always felt so short around her.
In the charged silence, Martina smirked. “So, what? You think because the boss isn’t here, you can just invite your friends over?”
Lola’s nervous system lit up, her fingers itched to close into fists, her throat vibrated with the urge to scream. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead of shooting back at Martina and asking her who she thought she was to speak to her like that. She took a few steps toward the frosted glass door and held it open.
Ignoring Martina was the best way to piss her off, she just usually didn’t have the patience to do it.
“Get back to work,” Lola said, words too clipped, each consonant trapped in her back teeth.
Martina didn’t move. For several interminable seconds, she just glared at her.
Lola resolved to stand there until her arm fell off from holding the heavy glass door. But then the phone rang, and their new receptionist’s voice ended the stand off.
