by Vivien Vale
It's midmorning and people are walking everywhere. I take in the sites and the sounds and decide to head back to the office. I have to do this presentation later for a lingerie company called Velvet Luxe.
Actually, Trish will be presenting my ideas but I’ll be there to make an appearance. I’m the CEO and no longer have to demean myself to making presentations for clients. They’d be lucky to have me.
I've done enough walking for today, so I call my limousine driver to come pick me up. He's there in an instant. My driver, Paul, knows me pretty well by now and he knows what I like and don’t like, including the fact that I don't like to be kept waiting.
He takes me back to my building in uptown. I own the whole damn thing. And the penthouse is my lair. I walk past Trish and toss her a slight nod of acknowledgement. She’s licking her lips like she already wants more.
“What time is my meeting?” I ask her.
“In about 15 minutes,” she says.
Fuck. I’m late.
“Come on Trish, grab the presentation, we gotta head downtown to Velvet Luxe.
Even though this lingerie company should be begging me for my business, I know it’s a big deal. Every company in town is clamoring to get their attention because they’re hot and trendy right now. I hear they’re gonna be bigger than Victoria’s Secret and I’ve seen enough in this business to know how important this company could be.
If we can land this campaign, then it will make our star shine even brighter. We're already at the upper echelon of society but this will take our future even further. Who doesn’t want to stay at the very top?
Trish and I hurry to the limo. Doubtless I’ll be late, but that also means we can make an entrance.
Claire
The sunrise peaks out over the tops of huge skyscrapers and once again I wonder what I'm doing going to the office this early.
I’m way too committed to my job.
But every day, as I walk into the building and take in the look of the old brick façade, I feel grateful for my life.
What started as just a dream back in college has turned into an actual, viable company: Epica. We began as a brick-and-mortar store and haven't veered too far away from that, although we’ve been booking larger companies as of late.
I've worked very hard to achieve this little boutique ad agency. I strive to keep it small and simple, which I think is a niche in an otherwise saturated market overwhelming with huge ad agencies.
A new client is vying for our attention today—or rather, I’m vying for their attention. The lingerie brand Velvet Luxe is looking for new representation and I’m banking everything on scoring this campaign. They're very upscale and we have to win.
For me, it causes a flurry of nerves to swell and swirl in my stomach as I open the door to her office today. I know we have to book this job. I know our financial future is riding on it.
Plus, the prestige of working with this kind of a company would bring a whole new range of clients to our brand. And prestige is something we need because while my little company has made a mark on the world, we are on the verge of financial collapse if I don’t take on a big client soon.
I pull my blonde curls up into a loose bun as I power on the lights.
I've designed the office myself. It has a loft apartment kind of vibe. There are exposed bricks, beams, and industrial elements from the original warehouse shining through.
I'm really proud having built this place, but it's definitely not your huge typical ad agency. That's exactly the kind of atmosphere I want to have here. I want to keep the creative people happy by constantly inspiring them—either through interior design or just having a relaxed vibe around the office.
I walk into my cozy, well-defined office and hit the cappuccino machine first. I've already been on a run this morning and now I need caffeine.
I guess you can say that comes with my overachiever status. I like to get a jump on the day. As a design professor once told me, the morning is the most creative time to get your ideas on paper.
The machine pumps out my espresso and I smile as I enjoy the warm aroma filling my senses. I take my cup and curl up on the deep-seated leather couch in my office.
No one else is in yet because no one else cares about this company as much as I do. That comes with the territory of being a CEO. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.
I guess you can say I'm a workaholic. I don't mind being called that because right now, this Velvet Luxe campaign is all I can think of. I have to gain their business for the good of my reputation and for the good of the company.
People deserve bonuses around here. And frankly, without this new client, our company may not financially survive much longer.
I know I have to pull this presentation together perfectly. My company, Epica, and everyone’s livelihood depend on it being a success.
I’d like to say that nothing gets the creative juices flowing better than the early morning vibe, but really everything that’s motivating me right now is the thought of keeping this company afloat…
I start drafting and coming up with more ideas. Too much information is better than not having enough when it comes to things like this. Clients are willing to pay, but they want to get what their money’s worth.
I brainstorm and sketch and try to perfect the Velvet Luxe presentation. I spend a few hours in the morning light defining my ideas more thoroughly, so they're ready to meet with the Velvet Luxe executives today. I have a big meeting with them downtown and I want everything to be organized and ready to go.
Charlotte, my assistant and best friend, comes into the building at her usual 8 o'clock hour. She's not surprised to see me in here. Half the time, I spend the night in my office.
"Hey, you're here, early again," she says.
She eyes my empty cappuccino cup and offers to take it. I don't resist.
"Thanks Charlotte, I really need that. I guess you can say I'm a little nervous about getting the campaign."
"Well, I think you're gonna do great. You always outshine the big guys anyway, just don't forget that," she says reassuringly.
"Thanks. That means a lot.”
She looks at me knowingly.
“You’re worried aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I say as I look glumly down at my sketches.
“Everything’s riding on this. I can’t mess up.”
“It’s okay to be nervous, but when have you ever cared about going up against the big ad agencies?”
“Um, when the financial future of this company totally depends on me landing a client,” I answer her.
“Just don’t think too much of it that way,” she says reassuringly. “Imagine it like the times you outshine the big companies by just being you, and doing what you do best.”
I smile. She has a way of cheering me up.
“Now, let me get you some more caffeine and you can work until your meeting later.”
“You’re my saving grace.”
She really is. Charlotte keeps this business running while I focus on all things creative. Without her, I’d be lost. She makes sure I pay attention to my calendar, my bills, and all the other parts of running a business that I feel are less important than my creative work.
I work for another hour or so sculpting my ideas. I don't even notice the time when Charlotte walks back into my office.
“It’s time,” she says.
I look up from my computer.
“Already?”
I scramble to pull together all my notes and computer and anything else I might need. I stuff it all into my vintage leather satchel and then I pull a black suit jacket over the silky, white camisole that’s tucked into my pencil skirt.
“Do I look okay?” I ask Charlotte.
“Everything except the pencil in your hair,” she laughs.
I reach up and feel the sharp point sticking through my bun. I take it out and with it all my blonde hair comes tumbling down over my shoulders.
“Bett
er?” I ask.
“Yes, here’s your green tea. I have an Uber waiting for you downstairs.”
“Oh, thanks Charlotte,” I say as I gather up my things.
“And Claire, good luck!”
Claire
I feel very out of my element.
I'm downtown, in a big box building, with a lot of executives.
Most people in my position—those from a little agency like mine—might be sweating under the pressure, but not me. I have no trouble working with that extra energy pumping in my veins.
This is what I live for. I like to take the business away from the big sharks. There's something that gets me off about knowing that I can bring high-quality clients into the boutique range of advertising.
For now, the meeting is going well. We're all seated around a very long glass conference table in a very prestigious building. All the big guns are here, trying to land this big campaign for Velvet Luxe.
It's a lingerie company that's gaining traction every year.
For me and my little company, it would be a very big steal and a great amount of business. This is the big break we’re waiting for; it would set us up for life to have a company like this under our belt.
It's my turn at the front of the room to present my very rough proposal. With nothing decided yet, it's hard to know what to go on, what the client needs. I have to second guess what specifics the company might like.
I take a deep breath and put on a smile. I'm here to show my best work and I'm gonna give them everything I've got so that we can land this campaign.
I'm the last presenter of the day, and I try to hide my nervousness as I make my way up to the podium. A PowerPoint shines brightly behind me and it showcases our newest ideas.
"So our agency, Epica, would like to represent Velvet Luxe in a new way. We anticipate that since this is a winter campaign, there should be lots of faux fur linings, snow, and sparkles, everything glamorous and chic to get people into the holiday spirit and into the spirit of buying."
I look around the room to see what the sharks are thinking and to see what the executives from the agency think. So far, so good. Everyone seems satisfied, except for the sharks.
"So, I suggest a gold on white color scheme and anything else that might add to the newness of the season. I think this could carry well over into the New Year's looks and so the ad marketing campaigns could run through Christmas and up through January at least."
My designers have come up with an array of ideas that are flashing on the screen behind me. I can tell the executives are happy. Everything is white and gold and shimmering, everything you'd want in a lingerie company.
"I have complete faith that my company can handle a marketing campaign this big and this intense. What we specialize in is bringing the impersonal experience down to a personal, intimate level. We operate out of a small building and we keep things close and this is reflected in our work. You'll see that we're able to reach the trendiest new audiences to the most traditional. That's what we pride ourselves on, having scope."
My presentation ends and the executives look very interested. They tell us all to come up with a more specialized campaign mock-up for them to review more closely. It's standard in the industry, but my heart sinks at having to go up against the sharks once again.
It's not like I don't like their work, I just find it v¬¬ery distant and fundamentally shaped under the broader umbrella of corporate enterprise. I don't think that's what this company wants. I think they want to shine brightly on their most loyal clients and yet also attract new ones.
Nobody wants a marketing scheme like we've all seen a million times, especially over Christmas when you could capitalize on the season for more sales. People want something special.
Just then something very special indeed walks into the room.
“Hi, I’m Liam, this is my assistant Trish. Sorry we’re late.”
He takes a seat and I’m dumbfounded by the pure amount of hotness in the room. My eyes glaze over as I imagine this 6’4 hunk of man between my legs.
He takes a seat and as he does so, a couple locks of sandy brown hair fall over his piercing green eyes. He peers up at me and I blush. Fuck. I’ve been caught staring.
He flashes me an incredible smile and I have to squeeze my legs together to prevent the wetness from oozing all over this fine, leather chair.
I’m not usually one to come in my panties for just anyone. It takes someone...unique to make me even enjoy the experience.
My friends call me frigid, but I know I just have really high standards and nothing will make me waver from that...nothing except for him. He’s my standard. I don’t even know the guy yet I can tell he embodies everything I would want in someone.
That is until I see his assistant, Trish, make her way to the front of the room.
“On behalf on my boss, Liam Alton, I’m going to present the ideas from Dignity Creative,” she says.
Two things are running through my mind. First of all, he’s Liam Alton, as in the playboy Alton who owns the biggest ad agency in town. This guy is not just a CEO...he’s a billionaire.
My stomach tightens, and I get a little bit nauseous as I realize this handsome man—my dream guy—is also my competition. Suddenly, my little company seems smaller than ever, dwarfed by the presence of this man.
The second thing that grabs my attention though is the fact that he can’t even be bothered to present his own ideas. His assistant is doing it. This to me screams of smugness and arrogance and I realize that you can’t judge a book by the cover. Liam’s hot. Like fantasy-level hot, but it speaks a lot about his personality.
“Our firm would like to take Velvet Luxe up to a new level. We can bring this lingerie brand to an international level with the ad ideas we have in store. We are used to dealing with clients of this magnitude and more than that, we propel them to even greater heights of success.”
God, this assistant seems to be bragging more than presenting any ideas of consequence. All the while that she’s talking, I see him staring at me. He’s brooding and dark, and his eyes are all over my body. It makes me uncomfortable to be the focus of his gaze and I squirm in my seat.
Trish continues with the details of their presentation.
“Our campaign will feature rich tones that reflect the lingerie. Deep reds, blacks, and purples will get people in a sexy mood toward the end of the year. There will be nothing light and bright about this. The campaign will get a sensual and dark treatment.”
Damn. Their pitch is polar opposite to my own. I’m imagining lots of white and gold while Dignity Creative wants to make things dark and shady. I wonder what the executives think? I wonder if I still have a chance at this?
Finally, the meeting is over. I can’t get out of there and away from Liam’s prying eyes fast enough.
Yes, I felt flushed being the center of his attention. But no, I can never date him. I know his reputation. He was probably staring at me with such intensity because he figured I could be another notch on his bedpost.
What he doesn’t know is that I have self-respect and I don’t go for guys merely based on looks, or for one night flings. I’m in it for passion, transparency, and longevity...which is probably why I’m frequently single.
I leave the giant building and get into a cab, trying to shake Liam from my mind. I mentally go over the additional ideas I come up in my head. I'm so creatively inspired by this company. I love lingerie and I love this time of year. What could be a better project for me? Any way to use my artistry is just a bonus for me.
The cab winds its way down the busy New York City streets and I write some notes in my little notebook. I have a lot of ideas for the campaign, which may or may not be fueled by the fact that Liam’s, or rather his assistant’s, presentation was so great. I have to win. I deserve this account and I intend to earn it.
I place one heel on the sidewalk and then the other before thanking the cab driver. Then I breathe in a sigh of relief as I see my brick
building, Epica, the company I’ve made from scratch.
I’m home. But I also have to get to work...my new motivation is beating Liam and proving to him that he shouldn’t be so cocky as he thinks.
Claire
I am unnerved by the meeting.
I'm thrown off by the guy.
Liam is the hottest thing I've seen in a while.
His gorgeous, chiseled face and deep green eyes are on my mind, tormenting me and throwing me off my game.
I walk into Epica and feel home at last after a big afternoon of dealing with ad agencies that outsize mine in so many ways.
"How was it?" Charlotte asks me as she greets me with green tea and a smile.
"It was...fine."
"Fine? That's all you have to say about it? It was just fine? Come on, tell me everything. How'd they like your ideas?"
She walks with me as I head to my office in the back of the building. It's surrounded by glass and exposed brick walls. I have a view of the city and it excites me. My office also has bean bags, books, and feels very cozy.
Charlotte plops down on a faux fur bean bag and proceeds to procure answers from me.
"Why are you being so aloof, Claire? Usually, you're an open book after important meetings, dying to tell me everything. What happened?"
I sit behind my glass desk, sip my green tea, and eye her cautiously. To tell or not to tell?
"Fine, Charlotte. I'll tell you. The meeting went well. The executives seemed to like my ideas and my presentation was better than the rest, except for one done by one man, or rather his assistant. Have you ever heard of Liam Alton?"
She looks at me in surprise.
"Heard of him? Of course, I have. He's known as one of the hottest and richest men in town. He's also the consummate player. Every girl wants him, but he's like forbidden fruit. No one can land Liam. Why was he there?"
I look into my tea mug with consternation. I knew he was a player but I had no idea it was such common knowledge.
What am I thinking, wanting a guy like him? I'm like all those other women wanting to land him. It's pathetic. I internally kick myself for being so naive.