Big Package_A Dark Vixens Novella

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Big Package_A Dark Vixens Novella Page 63

by Vivien Vale


  My head is spinning with all things Claire. I try to wipe her from my mind but it doesn't work.

  I decide to double down and try to win the Velvet Luxe account. I'll show her what it means to be creative. I would love to be the reason that she doesn't win this client. Then she will understand my point.

  I tell my secretary not to let anybody bother me for the rest of the day. I lock myself in the office and work for hours and hours perfecting my ideas.

  Once I open up the folder and see all of my designer's ideas I realize they have it all wrong. I delegated the task to them and yet I see that their work is not as good as I thought. I can certainly do better.

  This makes me question whether Claire was right. Maybe I haven't been involved enough. Maybe I should be more a part of the artistic process. But I can’t always be hands-on in every campaign. That’s what your employees are for.

  I’ll never admit that she's right. But I’ll pour my heart and soul into this campaign to make sure that she doesn't win it. That's how pissed I am. Now, I'm invested in her ruin.

  Trish comes in at various points to bring me coffee and food. But I barely take a second off from work. I’m solely in charge now of making this the most prestigious advertising campaign the world has ever seen.

  I'm sketching and drawing and digitizing my ideas. I've got papers drawn out all over the place. My office is a mess and I like it that way. It reminds me of the old days when I used to do my own work.

  Night falls upon the city and soon I'm all alone in the building. Even Trish has left. I don’t mind, and I felt freedom knowing there won’t be anyone to disturb me at all.

  I blast some music over the speakers and continue to work. I find that it helps me to be inspired more and get the creative juices flowing.

  I think of Claire and of her company and how artistic it was. Maybe it inspired me or maybe it's my fury at her, but I feel the zeal to create like I haven't felt in such a long time.

  I paint my sketches and draw my ideas. The penthouse has turned into an artist's studio in the span of 10 hours.

  This is the first time in a long time that I remember why I got into this business to begin with.

  I work all night to make my ideas a reality. Time passes quickly and I don't even realize it. I'm genuinely enjoying the process and I think that's ironic considering the hell I just gave Claire about hers.

  I haven't entirely forgiven her but as I work she's in my thoughts. I try to forget her but images of her beautiful face cross my mind frequently.

  I consider that this is the way Claire works every single day. She makes it her mission to be involved in every project. That has perhaps kept her company small, but I think she's made it that way on purpose. She seems to disdain everything impersonal, everything corporate.

  I still don't think she's right. She obviously doesn't know how to run a business. Running a small business is definitely different from handling a large scale one. But maybe there's something to the fact that as the boss, the CEO, I need to be a little bit more involved.

  This is especially obvious by the way I see that my designers have not done a good job. I need to micromanage them a little bit better. Or perhaps hire a whole new staff because the concepts I've seen are not up to par with my standards.

  Without this fight with Claire, I never would have seen the flaws in my business. I never would've looked into the designer's work or my own management process. I've been operating on cruise control. It's an easy way to live but also a dispassionate one.

  It's the middle of the night and the city is pitch black aside from flickering lights that come from the various skyscrapers.

  I'm surrounded by my artistic mess and it feels good. I want to call Claire. Not to apologize, nor to admit my wrongdoing, but to invite her over here so I can fuck her hard and have makeup sex.

  I'm in no position to offer that considering our fight. Maybe if I had some claim to her, but she and I are not even an item. As far as I know, things between us are dead.

  I take a break to have a whiskey as she dominates my thoughts.

  To think of never seeing her again feels like the wrong decision. What is she doing to me to haunt my thoughts like this?

  I don't get wrapped up in women, especially ones that fight with me like that. She should know her place and not to defy me. But then, Claire's a bit of a wild card and I knew that before going into this.

  She's artistic and strong. She does what she wants. And she's a free spirit if I've ever seen one. And I guess I have to respect that, as much as I want to control her.

  I work all night and have my ideas clearly defined by the time morning light hits my office.

  It's time to go home. I've been running all night away from our argument, away from Claire. I put my everything into this campaign and it's basically wrapped up.

  Either Velvet Luxe will love it or they will hate it, but a part of me still really wants to beat Claire.

  I still want to buy her company so that she will know that ultimately I was right.

  Claire

  I feel like the walls are closing in.

  Nothing's been the same since my argument with Liam. He's the last person on this earth I want to fight with. To make things worse, I was maybe starting to fall for him and now all of that is ruined.

  I pace around my office and tell myself it's for the best. Maybe life has spared me from loving him because I’d only get hurt in the end. He's not someone you fall for, he's someone you fuck.

  He hasn't called or anything, and I guess I don't really expect him to. Our argument seemed to put an end to all that’s between us. We had a good run and now it's suddenly over.

  I do, however, have one more course of action. I can work as hard as ever on this campaign and be sure to win it so that this company will benefit. I’d love to win this and show Liam that my way of working is better.

  He was so smug talking about how I don't know how to run a business. He might be right but who actually says that to somebody's face? The bitterness of what happened engulfs me and I feel as mad at him as ever.

  At the same time, there's this aching hole in my heart that can only be filled by him. I know I wasn't his girlfriend or anything, but the idea of not seeing him anymore nearly devastates me.

  This is a truth I can hardly admit to myself, much less anybody else. When I started going out with him, I thought I had it all controlled. But now I don’t know anymore.

  Charlotte comes in to check on me and she brings me some tea which I thankfully take. She knows what happened between Liam and I and she's been my shoulder to cry on.

  "You okay?" she asks.

  I try to come off as cool, calm, and collected when the truth is I'm shattered inside.

  "Of course I'm okay. I'm not gonna let a guy like that get to me. It wasn't going anywhere anyway. I think it's for the best. Besides, it's motivated me to really want this campaign...for personal reasons."

  She looks at me like she doesn't believe a word of what I'm saying and that's the virtue of having a best friend. She can see past all my bullshit and into the core of who I am. I can't hide anything from her. But also, I don’t need to say it directly to her, which I am grateful for.

  "Okay then, I'll just leave you to work. You're gonna crush it," she says.

  I sip my tea and try to get inspired. It's hard to think about lingerie when you have no one to share it with.

  I decide to use that as part of my theme for the campaign. I'm going to feature a woman, a model, who seems forlorn, without love. And over the course of the ad, she’ll come to find a man who completes her. He offers her the lingerie and they live happily ever after.

  My commercial is going to tell a story, my story. And all the advertising around it will center on this romantic kind of love.

  If anything useful has come from Liam and I's break up it's the fact that I have this new idea for the campaign. It should be based on love. What is lingerie if not to be seen by the person you most care a
bout?

  I work throughout the morning on my idea but the details are just overwhelming. I think again about Liam's advice. He suggested that I delegate things to the other designers in my company.

  I'm going to take him up on that but I'm glad he's not here to see. I’m actually starting to think he might be right.

  I call Charlotte over the intercom and she appears in my doorway.

  "What's up?"

  "I'd like to call a meeting in the conference room with everybody. I think I'm going to loosen the reins a little bit on this project," I say to her disbelieving face.

  "Wow, you're going to spread the work around huh? You've never done that before."

  "Well, I have the basic premise down but it's going to take a lot to pull the entire campaign together. And I think I'm willing to take a risk on our designers," I say.

  Charlotte looks pleased as if she's been waiting for this day for a long time. I wonder why she never said anything about this if she agrees on the idea.

  "Okay great," she says. "I'll call everybody into the conference room and we'll meet you there."

  "Perfect."

  I gather all my materials and think again about Liam. He was actually right. I don't have to do everything myself. I don't have to hold the world on my shoulders. Having this insight is a giant relief.

  I wish I could tell him about this revelation but my pride keeps me from calling him. I don't need more of a bruised ego than I already have.

  He knows how to hurt me, just like he knows how to make me explode into wave upon wave of pleasurable orgasm. Liam, like Charlotte, is someone that I can't hide from. He seems to understand me in this unspoken way.

  He grounds me and keeps me centered. I imagine the feeling of his strong arms around my body and I miss him.

  But it's over. I've wrecked that. I may never see him again and I'm feeling like it was all my fault.

  As much as it pains me, I don’t have time for this sentiment right now. I have work to do. I store my feelings away and gather my mess of things and take it all into the conference room where everybody's waiting for me.

  "Hi everyone, thanks for coming. I've decided to do something a little different with his Velvet Luxe project. I have the basic idea here in my notes, but I need some help. So, for the designers in the room, I'd like you to go beyond your normal scope of work for me and really help with this project. I think if we work together we can make it really insane and really fierce."

  "Wow," my graphic designer says. "You've never delegated anything this big before, Claire. This is a really big step for you."

  "We're excited to get to work on this," my designer, Brian says.

  Their enthusiasm really touches me. I don't know why I couldn't depend on them like this earlier. I guess I first needed to see that not everything has to be done by me.

  I'm giving up control and I have to say it feels good. I guess Liam has taught me that. He's so in control all the time that I guess with him, I can finally release.

  This can carry through to my business where I see, by the enthusiasm on everyone's faces, that it's okay to assign tasks to different people and I can trust that it will get done.

  I like this new set up because I don’t have to deviate much from my usual work practice, but at the same time, I don’t have to be so overwhelmed by accomplishing the whole projects by myself.

  I think it's time for a little speech.

  "And you guys, I just want to say thank you for everything. All these years that we've worked together, you've really supported me and my dream for this business. You all could be making a lot of money somewhere else, at a bigger firm, but you chose to stick with me here at Epica.

  “I know everyone's aware of our financial situation and if we don't get this big client our doors will have to close. I don't want to harp on the dire situation but I think you should know how grateful I am for the years of service and friendship and loyalty you've given me."

  It feels good to express my gratitude to my team of employees. At the same time, this meeting stings with sadness because my dream may fade if we don't get funding soon.

  The rest of the meeting is a rush of excitement and ideas. Everyone's brainstorming on how to make the campaign even more perfect. Working together feels better than ever and I know it will be my new way of doing things going forward.

  What's better than a group of designers feeding off each other and motivating each other to reach new heights?

  Liam

  I brace myself against the cold New York City wind.

  Winter is starting to fall over the city. It’s going to be dark nights and cold days.

  I flip the collar of my trench coat up to try to protect myself from the elements. I don’t mind the cold. In fact, I enjoy it. Shorter days mean longer nights to do filthy things between the sheets.

  This leads me to think of Claire, of course. She’s always on my mind, no matter how hard I try to escape her.

  I haven’t seen her since our fight, and I don’t expect to. It’s as if she’s vanished from my life entirely, and our time together was nothing more than a dream.

  It had to end sometime. I had to wake up. She’s enchanting, but I don’t do monogamy.

  I tuck into a café that was recommended to me by a friend. Apparently, they have the best coffee in town.

  I walk into the place, and it’s pretty packed. I order an Americano and sit by the window to read the paper.

  Just as I’m reading up on the current political landscape, I see her walk in.

  Claire. Fuck.

  How did she find this place? Why are we both here at the same time? What is the universe trying to tell me?

  I look at her steadily as she makes her way to the counter and shakes out her blonde hair. The mess of blonde waves makes her look as enchanting as ever, as if she’s just rolled out of bed. I’m only wishing it was my bed, and that the fight never happened.

  She has a wild mane that matches her personality. Claire, I’ve learned, is not someone you can contain. She is a free spirit in every sense of the phrase, fitting for her artistic talents.

  She’s a nonconformist for sure, and while I’ve come to respect that, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to enforce my own rules upon her. Seeing her now, just steps away from me, makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.

  She can be free as long as she always comes back to me. She can be free outside of my bedroom. She can be free as long as she knows that ultimately, she’s mine.

  The details of our fight fly out the window. I can’t resist her beautiful face and her beautiful soul any longer.

  I let her order her coffee, and she spins around to see me sitting by the window, staring at her with darkened eyes.

  I can almost feel her heart stop. I sense her shock and attraction to me. We might be mad at each other, but the sparks flying between us are undeniable.

  She grabs her coffee and walks over to me with confidence.

  “Hey, you,” she says nonchalantly. “What are you doing here?”

  I stand and kiss her cheek, putting our differences aside enough to be a gentleman. I offer her the seat across from me, and she takes it.

  “I just heard about this place and thought I’d try it. What about you?” I say.

  “Same.”

  “So, how have you been?” I ask, though I try to remain aloof.

  I stare into her dazzling eyes and wonder if she remembers all the times that we were together. Does she remember the way my hands slid so expertly across her body? Does she remember the way it felt to kiss me?

  “I’ve been okay. Just working away. I actually took your advice and brought my whole team onto the Velvet Luxe campaign.”

  I’m taken aback. I’m surprised that she took my advice, and I’m more surprised that she’s admitting it to me now. Maybe it’s her way of waving the white flag?

  I decide to be honest with her as well. “To tell you the truth, I took some of your advice, as well. I reimagine
d the campaign and worked on it myself. I haven’t done that in years. It felt pretty good.”

  She smiles at my admission, and I know I did the right thing in telling her the truth.

  She and I have an undeniable connection. I hated arguing with her, but it seems like some good came of it. She actually took my advice.

  “That’s great,” she says, genuinely pleased. “Well, I guess I should take off. I have to get to work.”

  She’s trying to escape again. Why is Claire always running from me? What is she afraid of?

  I grab her hand as she turns to go and say, “Claire, come on. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Let me take you out tonight. Let me make up for our fight.”

  She eyes me cautiously, and I wonder if she’ll accept the invitation or if she’s done with me for good.

  I squeeze her hand, and her eyes turn a deep shade of blue as she thinks about my offer.

  “Okay, Liam that sounds really nice. Text me later?”

  I release her hand, and with that, she’s out the door and on the frigid streets of New York.

  I’m pleased that I’ve cemented a date. I myself go back to the office, but instead of working, I spend some time putting together a perfect evening for Claire and me.

  She mentioned before that she feels uncomfortable within the confines of my glamorous lifestyle, so I determine that I’ll take my own car, my Porsche, to pick her up. No limousines tonight.

  I text her early, around six, and tell her I’ll be there soon to pick her up.

  She’s waiting for me outside of her apartment.

  Tonight, she’s wearing a long red, silk dress with very thin straps. I can see the outline of her breasts underneath the thin fabric.

  It turns me on so much, but I know that I can’t take her here. I need to wine and dine her first.

  She gets in the car, and I say, “Shall I take you for a spin around the city? You can see what this car can really do.”

  “Yes!” she exclaims.

  I smile. She has an obvious need for speed, and that’s something I can deliver.

  I step on the gas and race through the streets. I take the corners sharply and drive the car through abandoned alleyways, anywhere that I can find some leverage to hit the gas.

 

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