by Karen Booth
Likely story.
Echo got off her call. “Sorry about that. Should we go ahead and get started?” Echo scooped up a notebook from her desk and took a seat at the table next to Lela. “I just want to have a conversation about our next steps.”
Lela snapped to attention, opening her planner to a blank sheet in the back. “Yes. I’d love to hear more about that.”
Donovan cleared his throat again and leaned his elbow on the table, a bit too close for Lela’s taste, but she decided that she might as well start practicing the art of not falling under Donovan’s spell.
“Me too,” Donovan said. “Since this is my first time sitting in on one of these meetings.”
Echo sat a little straighter. She was a stunning and dynamic young woman. That was no surprise—she was the product of an excellent gene pool. Her wavy brown hair, flawless olive complexion, and big brown eyes, coupled with her warm and generous personality, made it impossible to look away. “So, Lela, my whole philosophy behind Echo Echo is the marriage of story, creator, and approachability. I want our products to tell a story. I believe that our creators are an essential part of that story, since they are the origin of everything we sell. And I want everything we offer, whether it’s a beautiful dress or a casual pair of shoes or a pair of earrings—or now, an amazing mascara—to be accessible to everyone.”
Lela furiously scribbled down her notes, duly impressed that Echo had a mission that went beyond merely hawking products. When she’d first met Echo in the lobby, Lela had seen the effortless radiance of her mom, Genevieve. But now, Lela saw Donovan. He’d always had a knack for picking things apart and examining them, trying to make them better or more than they were. This ability was surely part of what had made him so successful. Now Lela was seeing the same in his daughter, and it quite frankly, made her adore Echo. Lela was falling. Head over heels.
“This all sounds amazing,” Lela started. “I feel so privileged that you see Lela B being part of what you do. I also appreciate that you’ve put so much time and thought into the vision of your company. I love being a part of JTI, but this makes me feel like there will be more purpose behind what I’m doing, which is great. I’d like to do more than simply sell makeup.” Lela hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thick, but her words were sincere.
“Fantastic. I think our first step is a whole new media campaign. Electronic billboards, web advertising, bus wraps. The whole nine yards. We need to position you, and put the Lela B name out there.” Echo knocked her head to one side and pointed her pen at Lela. “Which means we need to get you out there.”
“You mean the products?” Lela asked.
“No. I mean you. You are the face of the company. You’re the expert and the one with the passion. You are the campaign.”
Donovan had been remarkably still, but he was now squirming in his seat. Lela could relate. This wasn’t going down easy for her, either. She liked being in the background. She wasn’t used to center stage.
“We’ll do a photo shoot. Dad has an amazing photographer friend who I think could be perfect for this.” Echo turned to Donovan. “Do you think Nico would be open to photographing Lela? He’s got that raw Annie Leibowitz vibe that I just love.”
“Are you serious?” Donovan and Lela asked the question in unison. Lela felt she was entitled to her surprise. It was insulting coming from him.
Echo reared back her head. “Whoa, you two. That was freaky.”
“Was it?” Donovan tapped a pen on the legal pad he had taken exactly zero notes on.
“Yes. The timing. The same words.”
Donovan shrugged. “It’s a logical question. You’re trying to sell beauty products.” For a moment, stone cold silence fell over the room as they all seemed to pick up the thread Donovan was about to pull on. It went something like this—selling beauty products required beautiful people, and that was not Lela. “I mean, Lela is an attractive woman, but I’m not sure she sends the right message.”
Lela planted an elbow on the table, propped her head on her hand, turned to face Donovan while wishing she could shoot laser beams out of her eyes. “And what message is that, exactly?”
She relished his initial look of uncertainty, but then she witnessed the moment when something else clicked in for him, and he regained his natural arrogance. “Look, Lela, I say this for your benefit as well as Echo’s. I know you want Lela B to do well and be successful. And I know that Echo wouldn’t bring you on board if she wasn’t confident in the line’s ability to do exactly that. But I sincerely have to wonder if a campaign with a gray-haired woman is going to help us achieve those goals.”
“Dad. I can’t believe you said that,” Echo said.
Lela slowly shook her head, not taking her eyes off Donovan while addressing Echo. “It’s okay. I understand what he’s saying.” It took an iron will to remain composed. Hearing that from the man she’d once cared about so much was a punch to the gut. And there were so many damn layers to what he’d said, it felt impossible to pick it all apart. She wasn’t about to launch into the personal, so she focused on the larger issue. She and Tammera talked about this often, and it was a topic that burned hot inside of Lela—her belief that no woman should be pushed aside because of the way she chose to present herself to the world.
“So you agree?” Donovan asked.
Good God, she wanted to slap him. Right across his handsome face. Really hard, creating a noise so loud that it could be heard out in the hall. Or maybe in outer space.
Obviously she wasn’t going to resort to violence. Donovan was an ass, but she knew what she was dealing with. And she wasn’t about to take a flamethrower to her new partnership with Echo Echo. “I don’t agree, but I’m biased. I made the choice to let my hair go gray. I made the choice to stop trying to hold on to my youth. It takes entirely too much energy. I’d rather focus on the here-and-now, which is me, exactly the way you see me. So, I’d like to hear what Echo thinks. It’s her company, after all.” Lela eased back in her chair, feeling satisfied that she’d said exactly what she needed to say. Even so, her heart was pounding fiercely.
“Dad, I’ve made a point of challenging all sorts of standards of beauty. They’re so ridiculously narrow. Size, color, shape. The list goes on and on. Why not tackle age? I think the time could be right.”
“I don’t make the rules,” Donovan said. “I think it’s great that you want to change the narrative, but some standards will be harder to do away with than others. Age is a tough nut to crack. It’s so entrenched. And you’re trying to do this with a brand that hasn’t fully established itself in the marketplace.”
“But everyone gets older. Doesn’t it make sense that we would celebrate that rather than devoting so much energy to hiding it?” Echo countered.
He doodled a few circles on the corner of the paper before him. “Maybe. Or maybe we let someone else blaze that trail with a more well-known commodity. Some of the bigger brands are in a much better position to do it.”
Echo blew out a frustrated sigh. “I feel really strongly about this. Lela is gorgeous, her hair is rad, and I love Lela B. So, we’re doing this. If it fails, we pivot. But I don’t think it will.”
Donovan smiled, but Lela knew for a fact that it was forced. “Okay, then. You’re the boss.”
“Great. We’ll get the production team on it. First step is to get the photographer booked and we’ll go from there.”
Lela could hardly believe she’d made an argument for doing the thing she didn’t want to do—the photo shoot. But she had to stick up for herself. And Echo’s idea, for that matter.
“I’ll call him right after this meeting,” Donovan said.
Echo smiled and reached over to touch Lela’s shoulder. “The only other thing we need to go over is moving your office. That’ll happen later today, if that’s okay with you. Our office manager will pull it all together. Then you can be up and running tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you putting her?” Donovan asked.
“In that empty office right next to you.”
Fantastic. Just what I don’t need. “Great.”
Chapter Ten
Donovan felt a little beat down after his meeting with Lela and Echo, but what could he do? He was committed to forging a stronger bond with his daughter, and also determined to help her reach a greater level of success. The comment about Lela’s gray hair was completely valid as far as he was concerned. He knew his stuff. Gray meant old, and old was not a beauty ideal anyone was willing to put down cold hard cash to achieve. It wasn’t his fault. He did not make the rules.
Even so, he felt a twinge of guilt over Lela being on the receiving end of his comments. It wasn’t about her. It was all about the bottom line.
When their meeting broke up, Echo hopped on a call, which left Lela and Donovan walking out into the hall together. Lela immediately beelined her way toward reception, but Donovan felt like they had to clear the air. “Lela, wait.”
She came to a halt, but didn’t turn around. “What?”
He took several strides to catch up with her. “We should talk. In private.”
“I don’t want this to be weird, Donovan. You do your job, I’ll do mine, and we can simply try to stay out of each other’s way.”
That was a valid approach. It still didn’t sit well with him. “Five minutes. I’ll show you where your new office is going to be.”
She managed an exasperated smile. “Okay. Fine.”
“Come on. We’re going this way.” Donovan led them in the opposite direction down the hall, pointing out the various offices occupied by Echo Echo staff. When he was close to the end, he walked into what was about to become Lela’s new work abode. “Here you go.”
She froze in the doorway. “Is this a joke?”
“No. Is something wrong? Not nice enough?”
Lela proceeded in slow motion, like she didn’t trust what he was saying. “Do you have any idea what my current JTI office looks like?” She peered out through one of the towering windows, which had the same halfway decent view Donovan’s office did. The JTI building was one of the tallest in this part of town, so you could see a few stretches of the city.
“No clue.”
“I’m down on twenty-two, in what is essentially a janitor’s closet with a window. I have a lovely view of the building across the street. In the afternoon, I can watch a man take off his socks and rub his bare feet on his desk.”
Donovan winced. “Sounds gross.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“Well, I’m glad this is a step up for you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall near the window. “I’m sorry about what I said in there. I have to protect Echo and her interests.”
“I get it. I still think you’re a jerk, but I get it.”
“I am a jerk. We’ve established that.”
“You made it that way. I’m just stating the obvious.”
That was fair, but Donovan still felt a need to explain himself. “I think we should talk about the elephant in the room.”
“Any more elephants and one of us is going to need a degree in zoology.”
Donovan snorted.
“I don’t know that we need to talk about it,” she continued. “Just let it go.”
“I feel bad about what happened.”
“And I’m supposed to relive it so you can unburden yourself?”
“Hey. You’re the one who unburdened herself by saying that you used to be in love with me.” In fact, three years later, Donovan still wasn’t over the realization. He kept mulling over his past, wondering how things would’ve been different. Would he have been happy? Would he have ended up with Lela? Or would that relationship have ended the same way his marriages had? He knew none of the answers to these questions, which really bothered him. Why did his own life have to be such a mystery? “Why did you do that? You seriously messed with my head.”
“I barely remember it, Donovan. I was half asleep and delirious.”
He had to fight the smile that wanted to cross his lips. Despite the way things had ended, their interlude in her bed had been pretty spectacular. “It was still hard to hear.”
“Look, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all if we hadn’t had this little instance of happenstance.” She circled her hand in the air above her head. “Talking about any of this doesn’t change what happened. You still would’ve left in the middle of the night, and I would be walking through life, tired of feeling like I was never good enough for you.”
For a moment, Donovan was stuck. Stuck between his two pasts with Lela—the recent and the more distant. “Is that really what you think?”
She looked truly startled, in a way that could only suggest that Donovan was the biggest moron to ever walk the earth. Frankly, he didn’t disagree. “I did at one point. The first time. Don’t worry, the second time cured me of it. I’m over it.”
What she really meant was that she was over him. “So that’s it, then?”
“Yep.”
Okay. Apparently the case of Lela and love was an open and shut case. The past was the past, and it was time to move forward. “Okay, well, I’m still sorry I left. But clearly, it was for the best. For both of us.”
Lela turned away from the window and walked to the center of the room, still admiring her new office. “Are we going to be able to work together? Because I really need this to pan out. At this point in my life, I can’t help but think that I have a limited number of chances at success. If you’re going to stand in my way, I need to know now.”
He wasn’t going to hold her back. Hell, he didn’t see how he could stop bold, silver-haired Lela from doing anything. “We both have a vested interest in Echo Echo. That’s a good thing. I think we keep things professional and cordial, remember we’re on the same team, and try to forget anything that happened before today.”
“Fine. Good.”
“Okay.”
“Just no more cracks about my hair, okay? I love it, and I’m proud of it.”
“It’s gorgeous.” He tamped down his urge to tell her that she was gorgeous. It would only make their working relationship more difficult. But he not only felt that way, he felt it in a way he hadn’t before. This new version of Lela, with her own brand of confidence and a distinct air of not giving a fuck, was extremely appealing. Too bad he was done with women. Too bad he was done with love. Too bad he’d promised Echo that he wouldn’t go there.
“Thanks.” An off-kilter grin bloomed on her face. “In an odd way, I have you to thank. I decided to start Lela B and go gray the morning after you left three years ago.”
“Really? The morning after?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yep. I knew that between my divorce and what happened with you, I was just spinning my wheels. I knew then that I simply needed to move on.”
Chapter Eleven
Two weeks in, being under the Echo Echo umbrella had proven to be a whirlwind inside a tornado brought on shore by a hurricane with a bonus tsunami. Also, an earthquake. The pace was unrelenting. Lela worked twelve-hour days, dragged her ass home at night, lucky if she had the energy to feed Rio before she collapsed on her couch. Going upstairs to her bedroom was too exhausting a proposition.
Donovan, for his part, was giving Lela space, which she appreciated. Of course, there were the moments, mostly late in the day when Lela was tired and prone to weak thoughts, when he’d walk past her office not noticing her and she would wish that things were different. But there was no longer room in her life for regret, or pining for someone who didn’t want her.
So Lela kept her eyes on the prize. She conferred with graphic designers on the rework of packaging. She had meetings with the ad team about campaigns, and strategy sessions with the sales department. At every step of the way, Echo was remarkably hands-on. Honestly, Lela couldn’t figure out how she did what she did. She was involved with everything, never seemed to miss a beat, was always cheery yet stone-cold sober about business decisions, a
nd a dream to collaborate with. She brought zero ego to her role, even though she had every reason in the world to be as much of an asshole as she wanted. In short, Lela was in awe of her unflappable brilliance.
Case in point, Echo’s latest brainchild. It was completely counterintuitive—when the ad campaign featuring Lela was launched, they were going to mark every product in the Lela B online store as “Sold Out”. Echo’s thinking was that web sales were for later. They wanted to build buzz, and the only way to do that was to drive people into brick-and-mortar stores, clamoring for something they believed to be scarce. As Echo said, nobody wanted to be left out on something super cool. It was a brilliant plan.
Unfortunately, said plan put a whole new level of pressure on Lela now that the thing she’d been dreading—the day of the photoshoot—had arrived. Echo had asked Lela to do her own makeup, insisting it would lend authenticity to the story behind the campaign, as the PR department planned to have Echo and Lela do lots of interviews once the much anticipated buzz had been achieved. Lela’s previous experience with “much anticipated buzz” was limited to tequila shooters after Tammera landed the pilot for her cooking show, and that time Lela went to Vegas and slurped a syrupy vodka slushie through a three foot-long straw. She still couldn’t imagine this actually working.
The photographer’s studio was only a few blocks north and one avenue west from her apartment, so Lela walked over with her rolling makeup kit in tow. She embarked with confidence, head held high, which was mostly the product of too much coffee. The weather, however, had other plans. Even though it was only the beginning of June and not quite nine in the morning, the day was already sweltering. By the time she reached the studio, she was sure she looked like the Little Mermaid after a bender—dripping wet and disheveled.
To make matters worse, she was prone to hot flashes if she’d had too much caffeine. Or when she was already overheated. And also when she was nervous. One step into the studio and it started. This was a familiar cast of characters before her—the wardrobe person, the hairstylist, the lighting guy and a handful of photographer’s assistants milling about. The difference was that they were all there because of her. She didn’t get to hide today. She had to step onto the stage.
