by Holly O'Dell
"I think the latter and the former go hand in hand," stated Fox, unflappable. "Devin has decided to sow his wild oats in a time when the hotel business needs a level-headed leader more than ever. I'm not asking for perfection, just a better general image. And I don't care what needs to be done to reach that goal"
"Shall we launch into our plan, or do you want to wait for your son?" Michael asked.
Fox resituated himself in the black leather chair. "Let's wait." Suddenly, the room fell silent. For the first time, Devin's absence became noticeable.
As she typically did, Gwen broke the silence. "Fox, I have a feeling that this cloudy morning is going to turn into a fabulous spring day! The smell in the air getting you excited for a summer in the Hamptons?"
"I feel like I'm getting too old for that scene," he said somewhat sternly. "I might just do some damage control at the individual hotels both nationally and internationally. "
"You know, if you don't want your Hamptons home to be lonely, I could go there and keep it company" Gwen gave Fox an awkward, almost masculine, nudge, and they both laughed and continued talking of expensive summer homes.
Michael and I turned to each other and shared a questioning glance. He tapped my hand with his pen. "How you doing?" he asked softly. "Nervous?"
"Not until you reminded me" The acid crept slowly through my esophagus. Get here, Devin Underhill, so I can get on with my life.
My wish was answered. The four of us turned to the door to see Rita, our administrative assistant, escorting Devin into the conference room. She was in her early forties and had this weird half-smile on her face, which was the most emotion I had ever seen out of her. Yes, she must have been hypnotized by the Devin Underhill spell.
Meanwhile, I could feel my pulse throbbing in my neck. I swigged from my bottle of water, hoping it might slow down my heartbeat. Michael, Gwen, and I rose to greet Devin. His hair was a bit longer than it was two years ago, but everything else was the same: chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and those eyes. I had to avoid those eyes. But they did seem to have slight bags under them, as if he had a rough night.
I took a deep, silent breath as I faced my past, looking sleek in his slate-gray suit. "Devin, Kate Brown. Pleasure to meet you"
This was the defining moment I had awaited for twenty-four hours, maybe longer. I saw the recognition in his eyes, those eyes I so wanted to avoid. Maybe I was lying to myself, but I thought I recognized a trace of happiness cross Devin's face. Or maybe it was more of a smirk.
We might have paused just a bit too long, since Michael came between the two of us and put out his hand. "Devin, Michael Korten."
"Michael Korten?" Devin repeated the name. "Say, did you happen to work with Derrik Train in L.A.?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. How do you know Derrik?"
"He's one of our best customers in Beverly Hills. He was having some troubles but really spoke highly of you and how you got him out of a few tough spots"
Weren't publicists at the bottom of the food chain? What Michael had done for Derrik was out of motivation for a hefty paycheck, I was certain, not to offer him a spiritual awakening.
"How is Derrik these days?" Michael dropped back into his chair. "I haven't talked to him since I left L.A. six months ago."
Devin shrugged. "Well, he's booked a hundred rooms at the hotel next month for his 30th birthday." Michael plastered a smile.
"Needless to say," Devin continued, "I'm sure that I'll be pleased with your services just as Derrik has been"
Were Devin and Michael becoming fast friends? That figures.
"Let's see what happens," Michael said vaguely. "And maybe the most important person to know in this room is none other than Gwen Burton, CEO of this fine firm"
Gwen stood up and clumsily reached across the table for Devin's hand. "Oh, you're just like your father!" she exclaimed.
"Heh," Devin replied with a phony smile.
"Shall we get this meeting started?" Gwen suggested to no one in particular.
"Agreed," Devin replied. "My father never really told me why we're here. Would someone like to fill me in on the scope of this meeting?"
Gwen gleefully, almost maniacally, pointed to me. "I'll let Kate get us started, since she's still standing up. What say you, dear?"
I glanced at Michael, who shot back an encouraging smile. It was the least he could do, now that he and Devin were practically best buds. I grabbed large sheets of black foam core and walked to the front of the room.
I stood there, hands placed on my hips to look authoritative, but the real reason for putting them there was to keep me from tipping over. "Devin, have you taken a look at the Hotel Bella opinion survey from a few months ago?"
"Sure, I glanced over it, but I'm sure my father is dis appointed that I didn't study it more thoroughly." Father and son exchanged a rancorous glance that made me feel uncomfortable.
"Let me fill you in on the highlights," I hastily continued, making a point to silently monitor my breathing. "The Hotel Bella image has been knocked down quite a few notches"
Devin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Isn't the entire hotel industry in this position? I'm not sure what you're getting at."
"From what we've been able to gather," I proceeded cautiously, "you seem to be getting some bad publicity."
Devin furrowed his brow. "Still not sure what you're trying to say"
"Do you read magazines? And do you know what they're saying about you? It's not pretty" I spoke directly.
Devin leaned back and locked his fingers behind his head. "This is rich." He cast a hostile eye toward his father. "Is this some sort of grand scheme to get me out of the company?" And then Devin returned his glance toward me, looking directly into my eyes. "Who doesn't like to have a good time every once in a while? I think your claim may be a tad exaggerated"
I'd hoped it wouldn't have come to this so soon, but I showed the group the first board. It contained about eight cutouts from magazines in which Devin had appeared in the last year. "Devin, in all of these, if you're not holding a woman, then you are holding a cigarette or a strong drink." I passed the board around the table. With a clenched jaw, Devin swept the board toward Fox without even looking at it, or his father.
"Of course, sometimes the New York media tend to catch celebrities at their worst moments." I put a spin on the situation, just as I had done for so many clients in the past. In fact, I was reveling in the moment more than I thought I would. Anna was right. I was one lucky girl to be in this position, deservedly putting an exboyfriend on the hot seat. "But this is eight inopportune moments."
"This feels like a trial," Devin complained.
"Stay with me. This isn't something that you're going to be tarred and feathered for. We feel that the guests of Hotel Bella are becoming turned off to a company once known for its strong family values that's now being led by a man who just doesn't seem to care who he's seen with or what he does in public."
Devin started standing up, but Michael put up a confident, reassuring hand.
"Devin, look, we're a PR firm, not the ethics police. Our job is to get Hotel Bella back on track, to get those profits up. And your father, well, all of us feel the best way to do so is to improve the public's perception of you"
Devin shot his father a baleful glance before turning back to Michael and me. "I'm not some sort of player," he said defensively. I saw the heat rise from his neck toward his forehead. Devin looked about two seconds away from a tantrum. I was going to win my bet with Michael.
Fox, who had been silent up to this point, spoke up. "Devin, do you really think this is a surprise? How many times have we talked about this? Your carousing is hurting business. Simple as that."
"Yeah, but did you really need to bring in a crack team of publicists?" Devin answered through clenched teeth.
"I need to know what your commitment is to this company, Devin. Are you in? Because if you're not, I'm ready to take it to the board"
; Devin grasped the arms of the chair at the ultimatum from his father. I watched Michael, who eyed me with the same dumbfounded look I must have been wearing. Gwen's eyes were wide with excitement.
"Fine," Devin said abruptly. "Just tell me the plan."
I raised a suspicious eyebrow at Devin, who offered a slight nod. I cleared my throat. "As Michael said, we're not standing on a moral pedestal. We are just trying to make things easier for you, Fox, and the company. I have a feeling that your dedication and commitment to the family business trump the bad press" I tapped into my personal knowledge, rather than professional, of Devin to address that last issue. I hoped I had struck a nerve somewhere deep within Devin, since I was not confident whether I had believed my own words.
I chose to interpret Devin's silence as acceptance of my statement and introduced the plan. "Devin, this isn't as bad as it sounds. We're not asking you to cloister yourself. It simply comes down to common sense and timing. Who you're seen with, when you're seen with them, and what you're doing with them all matter."
I picked up a stack of bound presentations and distributed them. "You'll see that Michael and I have out lined some suggested hot spots, activities, and A-listers that'll all offer good press just by associating with them. Emceeing an auction with Rudy Giuliani, throwing out the first pitch at an all-star fund-raiser baseball game, showing up at hospitals for visits. Once you examine the lists, you'll notice that not much will change for you. Remember: common sense and timing. It's important to surround yourself with reputable, highquality people"
With that, I seated myself at the table and nodded to Michael to describe the public relations makeover plan in detail. I needed a break. But I did it. I made it through the meeting with few flaws. The worst was over, or so I believed.
Had I misjudged Devin all along? I pondered, as I grabbed a bottle of water from the lunchroom. He'd withstood the criticism much better than I ever could have, and had even agreed with my and Michael's plan by the end of the two-hour meeting. On his way out of the conference room, Devin offered a genuine smile and a firm handshake. Michael, Devin, and I had agreed to regroup in a week to discuss plans in further detail; other than that, Devin said nothing else to me after the meeting.
Which was why I did a double take as I approached my office, where he was examining the photos on the wall.
I cleared my throat to announce my presence. Devin pointed to one of the pictures. "Who's the babe?"
"That babe is my friend Anna, whom you met many times while you and I were together." I made no attempt to hide my irritation.
"I was talking about you," Devin smirked. "That's a great picture. But why do I need to tell you how you look in a picture when I have the real thing in front of me?" Devin reached out for a hug, but I batted his arm away.
"You are a client. I don't hug clients."
"Kate, I just wanted to commend you on that performance in the conference room. I could tell that you were just in love with the idea that you could knock an old boyfriend down."
That was the first time Devin had ever acknowledged that he and I had ever dated. Throughout the relationship, Devin felt that labels were suffocating, so he maintained that what he and I were doing was simply two people having a good time together.
I challenged Devin. "What makes you so sure that what you saw in there was an act?"
"It just wasn't you"
"How exactly, Devin, would you know that was or wasn't me?" I nearly erupted. "For you to come here and say that I wasn't being myself is an insult that I don't want to hear. People change, Devin. I suggest you do the same."
Devin began to shake with laughter, which only annoyed me even more. "What's so funny?" I demanded.
He shook his head and wiped away a fake tear. "I was just playing with you. I was seeing if I could still get a rise out of you, and I certainly can. You're the same old spitfire I remember from a few years back. And by the way, it's sexier than ever."
Fortunately for me, his strong come-ons didn't affect me-much. Oh, it was certainly vintage Devin, think ing that he could throw out a few well-placed compliments and just watch me fawn after him at his feet. That's right, I needed to channel this disgust, if only to avoid getting hooked all over again. One thing I did know was that I needed to keep my physical distance from him, so I walked backwards toward an opposite corner of my office.
Devin's face suddenly became serious. "How have you been doing, Kate? I think about you a lot. When I saw you in the conference room, I just couldn't ... you had me speechless, you know? For the last week, I've been racking my brain trying to figure out why Burton Relations sounded so familiar to me. Now I realize."
I heard nothing else after "I think about you a lot" That jerk. Nice of him to confess this after ignoring me for two years. Broken dates, I reminded myself. So considerate of him to tell me how fabulous and sexy I looked now, considering he hadn't said a peep about those things when we were dating. I was not about to get sucked into that trap again. I am a strong, professional woman, I am in touch with the world in which I live...
Forget all that, I thought. I was in touch with not letting a jerk like Devin rake me over the coals again. And forget about his sweet talk. We were here for work, and work we'd talk about. "Yes, I'm still at Burton Relations, obviously. I've had some great accounts-"
"And I suppose this one is the best?" Devin interrupted.
I attempted to decipher some sarcasm in his words. I stopped him, though, before he could speak any more.
"Devin, you may think that having you as a client is a gift from the heavens, but I have been and will continue to work as hard on this project as I do my others. I have faith that both you and I can put the past aside and handle this in the most professional way possible."
"If you think that is possible," Devin muttered.
"I know it is."
"So, are you seeing anyone?"
"What did I just say about keeping the personal separate from the professional?"
"Spoken like a true PR rep-avoid answering the tough questions. Let me try it again: Are you seeing anyone?"
Just as I opened my mouth for a flustered reply, Michael appeared at the door, his jacket strewn over his arm. He looked surprised. "Um, Kate, can you still make it to our lunch meeting?"
Lunch meeting. Code word for escape. I had almost forgotten. "I'll meet you at the elevator banks in five minutes," I told Michael.
Devin waited until Michael was out of earshot before speaking. "Forget about the last question. I already figured it out."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Come on, Kate. He was practically salivating and panting!"
"Come on, Devin, I haven't seen you in two years and now you're asking me who I'm dating and making insinuations about my coworkers? Not that it's any of your business, but the same goes for him as it does for you or any other male who crosses my path in this job: I don't mix business with pleasure."
Devin was unconvinced. "Say what you will, but I have a pretty good idea what's going on in that head of yours."
I grabbed my purse and headed to the door. "Don't be so cocky. That's what got you in this office in the first place."
"How does this spot look?" Michael pulled out a chair for me and made sure I was seated before he sat down.
The restaurant was on the first floor of our building. Dangling blue and yellow light fixtures accented the mahogany bar area, while the dining area was more formal with white tablecloths and upholstered chairs. We were only one of six people in there, as most of the lunch crowd had already dissipated. Michael and I had each ordered a glass of champagne in celebration of our victory-or at least a first step on the road to what I hoped would be a victory, both personal and professional. Gwen surprised us by generously suggesting that we take the rest of the afternoon off. Then again, what she asked us to do in the last twenty-four hours was nothing short of turning water into wine.
I propped an elbow on the bar. "So, Michael, why, exa
ctly, did you come to New York? Just a little too much sunshine out west for you?"
"It was probably the least calculated thing I did in my life," he admitted. "I don't know, one day I just felt that I owed it to myself to live someplace other than Southern California. I mean, I was born and raised there-yes, it's true, there are a few of us like that out there-went to UCLA, got a job at a film studio right out of college, went into PR, and just wanted a change"
"No other catalyst?" I prodded.
He shifted. "Maybe"
"Was it a girl?" I asked pointedly.
"Yes, my ex-fiancee, to be specific." Suddenly he was intently focused on unwrapping the linen napkin holding the sterling silver flatware. I certainly didn't want to make the guy feel uncomfortable, but he quickly shook his head and snapped back to reality.
"We met at work. We'd been split up for about a year, but she and I were still working together, and I just thought, `Michael, quit being an idiot and forcing yourself to face your ex every day.' So rather than looking for a new job in L.A., I used my connections to find something out here"
"And you found Gwen?" I was perplexed.
"It was kind of odd. Okay, she was kind of odd" Michael laughed as he traced the rim of his wine glass. "But despite her practically being a caricature, she was the only one who was upfront with me about what I'd be doing and what her mission was with her firm. And I had been with the big studios, the big publicity houses, my whole working life. Gwen was offering a competitive salary, I was willing to give the small firm a try, and here I sit, nearly a year later."
"So, was it everything you thought it would be?"
"Well, Gwen's a little crazier than I thought, but it's charming, in a twisted sort of way"
"Yes, it certainly takes a special breed to work with her."
"Yikes, what does that say about us?"
