by Virna DePaul
“You know that the contest provides amazing publicity for the winning firm,” Leland said silkily, “and, of course, it usually means more money raised for the charity in the end. Which is what we’re all about, after all!”
Brianne could see right through his empty words. His real motivation was as clear as a newly washed window. He was in it for himself, and if some charity made some money, well, that was a nice side benefit.
“Of course,” she smiled, humoring him. She’d learned enough from Coronado’s high society mavens over the years to pull off patrician coolness as easily as most people would pull off a sweater.
“Since you were the next best firm,” he said in a slightly derogative tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe it, “you’re up. If you want to be, that is. I’d understand if you didn’t.”
Brianne looked at him sharply. “And why wouldn’t I want to?” The publicity that the Life and Society spread would give her was something she couldn’t put a dollar value on; it would finally catapult Lavish Events into the big leagues where it belonged.
“The unpleasantness with the wedding and all, of course,” Leland said, looking down his nose at her.
She had to admit she wasn’t surprised that, of all people, he was the only one to have voiced out loud what everyone else appeared to be thinking. It didn’t improve her opinion of him, of course, but at least he was ballsy enough to say it.
He sniffed the air. “Everyone would understand if you just weren’t up for it.”
She had to forcibly restrain herself from leaping across the table and grabbing his perfectly-ironed lapels. If one more person treated her like a fragile, suffering flower, she was going to scream. Instead, she tilted her chin just a little higher and smiled, flashing as many of her teeth as was physically possible.
“Not only am I up for it, Leland, but I relish the challenge. A full feature spread in Life and Society is just what my company needs.”
“I’m sure,” Leland said. “But you’ll have to win the spread first, which is highly unlikely,” he said.
He didn’t even bother to hide his sneer, and Brianne actually wanted to laugh at his supreme sense of superiority. She looked forward to wiping the floor with him.
“Leland, not only will I win, but you will be begging me to work for you—no, scratch that, you will be begging to work for me once this contest is done,” Brianne declared defiantly.
In truth, the publicity would be invaluable; but the opportunity to put Leland in his place was practically making her salivate. He needed to be taken down a peg or two, and his clients deserved better than his tired and unoriginal events. She would be more than happy to take them into the new century for him.
He chuckled. “I’m impressed with your self-confidence,” he said, indulgently. “Would you care to make it more interesting?”
Alarm bells went off in Brianne’s head, but she couldn’t help herself. “How exactly do you propose we do that?”
Leland laid his hand on her desk, his perfectly manicured fingers tapping the surface.
Brianne couldn’t help but feel a little repulsed by them; they were too shiny and his hands were too pale and delicate to belong to a real man. Even Eric, for all his money, had calluses on his hands from years of riding polo ponies and mucking out his own stables. She made a mental note to wipe down the surface of the desk when Leland left.
“What if winner takes all?” he replied with almost predatory pleasure.
Her eyes narrowed. This was dangerous territory he was leading her into, and he knew it, the reptile. “What exactly do you mean by that, just so we are absolutely clear on the stakes?”
“The winner of the contest gets all the funds raised,” he said, nodding, as if the idea was the best one he’d had in a while. “And,” he continued, looking triumphant, “to make the judging fair, neither of us will know who will be attending our events.”
Brianne frowned. She didn’t miss his implication that the only way she’d beat him was if she used her family’s influence to invite everyone from her own social circle to her event. Leland had great contacts and knew it, but virtually everyone Brianne had ever known was a billionaire many times over. “Who would find the attendees?”
“The magazine,” Leland said, sitting back, a smug look on his face. “Life and Society will select the people to attend the events, and they are the ones that will vote on the winner.”
Brianne felt a little nauseated by his arrogance and the cloying scent of his sickly aftershave. It would be one thing to go up against Leland and lose. Many did—there was no shame in that. But to lose to him, then also lose the raised money? That seemed not only damaging, but downright dangerous.
Leland read into her hesitation and took the chance to twist the knife. “Of course, if you’re still having personal issues left over from the wedding, I wouldn’t want you to overtax yourself.”
He’d thought it all out long before he stepped into the office. Every step, every dig at her self-esteem. He couldn’t keep himself from looking gleeful.
Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it back down and took a deep breath. When she looked across the desk at Leland, at his oozing over-confidence and certainty in his victory, she knew she needed this challenge not just for her company, but on a personal level. This could be the moment that everything turned around. Beating him would be a game-changer for Lavish; and cutting the head off the vile snake who sat so casually in front of her would be a major personal victory.
She stood and stuck out her hand. “Okay Leland, you’re on.”
Leland stood up and shook her hand.
She had to suppress a physical shudder of distaste.
“Excellent,” he said. “I’m looking forward to some friendly competition.”
Brianne smiled a wicked grin, and for the first time in weeks, the expression felt natural. “You have no idea.”
As she ushered him from her office, she felt a burst of excitement rising in her chest. This could be the best thing I’ve ever done, she thought as she began scribbling ideas down.
* * *
“Oh my God, Evie, this is the worst thing I’ve ever done,” Brianne moaned, burying her head in her hands. For a week, she’d been pouring over her ideas. Nothing seemed original enough, fun enough, spectacular enough to beat the snakelike Leland Mahoney.
“Oh, come on, Boss,” Evie said in a soothing tone, sitting on the opposite side of Brianne’s desk. “It’s not that bad. In fact, it could turn out great.”
“How?” Brianne cried. “Leland’s won this damn contest for the last three years. He’s practically unbeatable.”
“Nobody’s unbeatable,” Evie said firmly, toying with her blonde ponytail. “They said the Titanic couldn’t be sunk, and look at what happened there.”
“So you’re comparing me to the Titanic?”
“No, I’m comparing Leland to the Titanic!” Evie rolled her eyes. “Never mind. There’s no Titanic. We just need to concentrate on coming up with something great, something new.”
“Yes, but what? It’s got to be something different, maybe something that hasn’t caught on here yet.”
“That’s it, keep those thoughts coming. I knew when I saw that faraway look in your eyes that something spectacular was coming.”
“Something fresh, sophisticated but unexpected. Something European?”
“Like socialized health care and not shaving your armpits?” Evie joked.
“I beg you to stop helping,” she moaned.
“Sorry,” Evie said with a grin. She leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. “But what?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Brianne said, deflated once more. She picked up a pencil and drummed the eraser against the wooden surface. “Something glamorous. Think shopping in Paris, or the theater district in London,” she muttered, more to herself than to Evie. “Something cosmopolitan, but with an American lean…something, something like…,” she muttered, trailing off.
&nb
sp; Evie jumped as Brianne slammed her palm against the desk.
“Holy hell, what was that for?”
“I’ve got it. Camping!” Brianne cried.
“Whatever, ‘cause that is just so glamorous!” Evie said, annoyed. “We have to be serious here.”
“I am serious!” Brianne insisted. “Okay, not camping, but glamping. Glamorous camping, hence, ‘glamping.’ This could work, this could really work.”
“Glamping,” Evie said slowly. “The trend has been on the upswing. Even so, I haven’t heard of a glamping event being done on such a high publicity level before. Only…”
“Only?”
“Only it’s camping. In the outdoors. And you…”
“Crap,” Brianne said, slumping back to her seat as simple reality kicked back in.
“Yeah, you hate the outdoors,” Evie pointed out.
“It’s not that I hate the outdoors,” Brianne protested. “It’s that once we move beyond the beach at a swanky resort, well….the outdoors kind of hates me.”
“To be fair, I think you both have it out for each other. Remember that time Eric took you camping and you freaked out because you thought you got poison ivy but really just brushed up against crabgrass?”
“Hey! I’d never seen crabgrass in my life. My parents were meticulous about our lawn. Or at least, the gardener was. But you know what, it doesn’t matter. If I have to go glamping to beat Leland, I’ll gladly do it.”
“It is a pretty cool idea,” Evie admitted. “So it’s like really fancy tents and catered meals and air conditioners and gas fire pits, and stuff?”
“It is indeed, and huge cushions and comfy beds and twinkling lights and lots of bunting! We could hire different entertainers for the night, and have themed parties. Oh Evie, this could be really incredible,” she said. “Let’s start researching it right away!”
Evie winced slightly.
“What?”
“It’s just…I’m supposed to go out with Jake, remember?”
“Of course. That’s right! I completely forgot.” Brianne made a shooing motion with her hand. “You have a fun time!”
Evie pouted. “And leave you here, working into the wee hours all by yourself? No way! Come with us!”
“Oh no. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“But I am worried. Come on, Brianne. You need a night out.” She moved to the side of the desk and leaned against it. “Jake and I were going to go out tonight anyway. You should come.”
“And be a third wheel? No thank you. Kind of you to offer, though.”
“Aw, don’t be difficult. You wouldn’t be a third wheel and you know it. The idea is, maybe we can find you a fourth wheel, and you can go burn rubber together.”
“That was the worst analogy ever,” Brianne grumbled as she looked at the lascivious grin all over her assistant’s face.
“Whatever,” Evie said, undaunted. “You need something to kick-start your personal life, something to get you revved up. Find some hot guy who means nothing and get him to bang your brains out. That’s a lot better than a lobotomy,” she said, with a knowing nod.
Brianne stayed silent, staring into space while Evie looked at her expectantly. Maybe a one-night stand was all she was really capable of. Since the wedding she had all but convinced herself she was not relationship material. She figured she would have probably screwed it up with Eric no matter what—Gabe or no Gabe.
But the thought of picking up some guy in a bar was not exactly her idea of fun. And, even worse – what if she couldn’t even snag a one-night stand? How bad would that be for her ego? Then she would really need some sort of psychiatric intervention.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she hedged, wrinkling her nose. The more she thought about it, though, the less of a bad idea it seemed. Maybe she did need some hot, anonymous sex to prove she’d just needed to get turned on by someone new. That would prove that her attraction to Gabe wasn’t personal, that she was simply not ready for marriage because she still wanted to sow her wild oats.
“Oh, come on, come on, come on!” Evie said, bouncing against the desk, knowing she was getting through to her boss. “I’m not going to stop asking until you come with us. So you may as well give in.”
“Oh, fine! But only because you’re going to drive me batty,” she said with a sigh.
“Great! We’ll pick you up at eight. Dress for casual sex.”
Brianne snorted. “Sounds like it’s going to be a wild night!”
“Start your engine, my friend,” Evie grinned, and clapped her hands.
* * *
The pounding music and the flashing lights were giving Brianne a headache. She really wished she hadn’t allowed herself to be so easily led. She took a gulp of her vodka tonic and hoped the alcohol would help mellow her out, or at least numb the pain.
Evie and her boyfriend Jake were out on the crowded dance floor. Her diminutive assistant was wearing a maroon mini-dress that showed off her delicate curves and made a dramatic statement against the pale beauty of her hair. She was moving sensuously and gracefully. Jake was doing his best to keep up with her, but few could. Brianne smiled as she watched the two of them. They clearly enjoyed each other’s company and were having a good time together. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
She tossed her drink back in one gulp and stood up from the bench seat of the corner table they’d been sharing. Maybe she should hit the dance floor, too. No sense in being a wallflower, after all.
Gabe had implied that she needed to take control of her own life and make things happen. Well, life, here I come, she thought, as she forced her feet forward through the pulsing crowd. She was wearing an outfit she hadn’t worn in ages, a sparkly halter top, black miniskirt and black stiletto gladiator sandals. Her dark hair was in loose curls on top of her head and she’d been liberal with her dark eye makeup and red lipstick. She knew she looked good, but couldn’t help feeling a little bit exposed and unsure. She looked like she was ready for some casual sex, as Evie had suggested.
She just had to pretend she felt that way until maybe she actually did.
When she finally squeezed her way over to where Jake and Evie were dancing, it didn’t take long to throw herself into the beat of the thumping techno track. She started to move to the music, smiling at Evie and surveying the dance floor. There were lots of couples, as well as a few groups of women dancing together, dressed as if they were on the prowl for a man just like she was. As she swayed and twisted, her eyes skimmed the tables that ringed the floor. More groups, more couples, and then—oh my, oh my!
A classy looking, seriously hot guy at ten o’clock! He was alone, as far as she could make out. He had thick, blonde hair that he wore swept back off his face, perfect bone structure, and a brooding look. Totally the kind of guy she could go for. And he was checking her out, too.
She turned to see if Evie was watching, but she and Jake were nowhere on the dance floor. She finally spotted them at their table. Weaving her way back through the crowd, she saw Evie frowning over her phone, the screen lighting up her face in the dark room.
“What’s up?” Brianne yelled over the noise.
“I’m not sure,” Evie hollered back. “I gotta go make a phone call.”
Brianne nodded and watched her friend thread her way through the crowd to find a quieter place to make her call. Left alone with Jake, she tried to make small talk, but the noise of the club was too much to take. Finally, they both lapsed into silence, focusing on the fresh drinks the waitress brought them.
Brianne swallowed hers down in a few gulps, wanting the buzz to take over. The headache was still pounding away at her temples. After a minute, she felt a pleasant tingling in her legs and chest that meant the vodka was doing its job, and she smiled. Hopefully it would find its way upwards soon, too.
She swayed in her seat to the music as she waited for Evie to come back, and Jake scrolled through messages on his phone. Brianne had just or
dered another drink when Evie appeared back at the table, frowning.
“What’s going on?” Bri asked, concern clear in her voice as Evie slid onto the leather seat.
“My sister was in a car accident,” she said, her face pale.
“Oh my God!” Brianne touched a slim hand to Evie’s arm.
“Is she okay?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Evie said, clearly still not entirely believing it. “Totally unscratched, apparently. But her car isn’t, and she needs us to come pick her up.”
Brianne was relieved that everything was okay. Cars were replaceable; sisters weren’t.
Evie turned to her. “We can drop you off on the way, Brianne. The accident wasn’t too far from your place.”
“Don’t worry about it, I can call a cab. Besides, I may stay for one more drink.” Brianne felt oddly reckless. Evie’s sister’s brush with mortality had stirred something in her, or maybe it was just the vodka. Either way, she was determined to live her life a little more adventurously from now on.
“Are you sure?” Evie asked, surprise written all over her face. “I hate to leave you here by yourself.”
Brianne smiled confidently. She didn’t want Evie to worry about her when she had family problems. Plus, she was just tipsy enough to start thinking a one-night-stand really was a good idea.
The waitress appeared with her new vodka tonic. “See, I just got a new drink. I’ll be fine. I got all dressed up and want to put the outfit to the test,” she joked. “Besides, I don’t want you to have to deal with taking me home. We all know that nothing is ‘just right by’ anything else in LA You would probably have to go 45 minutes out of your way. So please, forget it, I can get a cab later on.”
Evie looked reluctant, even as she stood to go. Jake came to her side and slid an arm around her. “I don’t like leaving you.” She gave Brianne a hard look.
“Really. It’s fine. I am fine. Now go!” she insisted, sipping on her vodka tonic.
