“Vicky,” he started, then he cleared his throat. “Vicky, you look – you look wonderful.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her. “Is this what you and the ladies were up to when you headed in to town on Saturday?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Because Tammy bought lingerie, and so we all know about the shopping trip.”
She laughed. “Did she model it for you?”
“Damn close thing, I think.”
They grinned.
“Anyway, yes,” Vicky said. “Julie and Tammy gave me some help.”
“Just in time, too. Your big pitch meeting is this morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
He studied her body language. “Nervous?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“You ready?”
“As I’m ever gonna be.”
“Well, you look ready. You look beautiful.”
She looked up at him, suddenly confused.
He saw her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me. What is it?”
“It’s just – since Saturday everyone has been telling me how good I look.” She stopped.
“Yeah…”
“And, well… it just makes me feel like… like before Saturday, I was… I don’t know. Ugly?”
“No, Vicky.” His eyes were just so warm. “I always thought you were beautiful. But now? Now, you look like you think you’re beautiful. And that’s far, far more important than anything that I may think. What anybody thinks, actually.”
She sat, stunned. “Thank you – thank you, Phil.”
“You’re welcome.” He glanced down at his watch. “Now don’t you have a pitch meeting to go and kick some ass at?”
She laughed and stood up. “I do, indeed. Wish me luck.”
“Oh, Vicky. Look at you – all confident and glorious. You don’t need luck. You’re going to be just fine. You’re the real deal.”
And as she looked up at his lined face, so bright and positive, she actually believed him.
**
Unfortunately, ninety minutes later, all of her confidence and bravado had just wilted up and blown away and Vicky was fidgeting. Argh! Why do I have to go last?
She had sat through Rob’s ideas (awesome), Allison’s ideas (also awesome) and now Peter was wrapping up his ideas (awesome, also). All of their presentations were slick and polished and perfect; the handout materials were good enough to run as advertisements just as they were. She thought of her basic presentation and simple visuals – the best she could come up with at two o’clock in the morning – and felt sick with nerves and fear and anxiety. She was totally convinced that she was going to puke all over the conference room table, smack in front of Julie.
God, why did I decide to change my idea at the last minute? Why why why?
Well, it was too late now. Julie was thanking Peter and everybody was clapping and now everyone was looking at her.
She walked to the front of the room and took her time setting up her laptop as the others chatted. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the computer screen and was surprised to see herself. She appeared amazingly cool and calm and collected. She looked again, to make sure that her eyes weren’t deceiving her and to confirm that she wasn’t in the grip of some panic-induced hallucination.
Yes, actually. She did look great. Her hair was shiny and sassy, her eyes were bright, her suit was totally non-creased and elegant. Vicky felt something burst across her chest at that moment, and she realized that it was honest, true confidence. ‘The real deal’, Phil called it.
OK, Vicky. You can do this. Your idea is great. So – tell them how great it is. And hey! You know what? I know it was donkey years ago, but there was a time when you were damn good at presentations, when you even enjoyed them. Remember that? Back when you worked with Alina and you kicked ass every single day? Yeah. Come on, now. You got this.
She smiled at Julie.
“Alright everyone, time to start. Vicky, whenever you’re ready?”
“Thank you, Julie.” Her voice came out as soft as ever, but it had a tone of authority beneath it that the others had rarely heard before. Surprised, intrigued, curious, they all sat up a bit straighter to look at her.
Julie smiled: there was more going on with Vicky Thompson today than a new suit and a flattering haircut and a push-up strapless bra. The woman had found something inside of herself, that much was for damn sure. She was emerging from her cocoon at roughly the speed of light.
“Julie and Rob, you asked for an idea that will make people think of summer heat and also summer cool. You want the concept to be laid-back and friendly and approachable – just like Open Skies is. You want the marketing idea to bring all kinds of people together in some way, just like Open Skies does. This place is perfect for couples and kids and corporate guests. I think that my proposal is fun and unusual, and I also think that it will gather people together – and I mean that quite literally.”
Julie was interested, and Rob was leaning forward. What did Vicky have in mind?
Vicky clicked on her laptop and opened her presentation. Don’t apologize for its simplicity. It’s a simple idea, and it’s OK that the presentation reflects that. Chin up.
“I propose that we commission three gigantic ice sculptures – each one at least twelve feet in height. The shapes should all be different, and should reflect who we are here at Open Skies. I found a few ideas.” She clicked again. “A horse, a mountain, a campfire. But there are many others, of course, and a talented ice sculpture artist would be able to create anything we may request.”
Vicky paused and looked around. Everyone was riveted.
“I want to put one sculpture in Denver, one in Colorado Springs, and the final one in Boulder. They should be placed somewhere with lots of foot traffic, and where many different demographic groups appear: we want everyone from stay-at-home Moms to college students on a coffee run to CEO’s to see them and physically walk past them.”
She clicked to the next slide. “Inside each ice sculpture will be dozens of laminated vouchers for a variety of things: weekend stays at Open Skies, discounts on cabin rates, free meals, free services, and so on. The idea is that the ice sculptures will – eventually, of course – melt and people will be able to reach the vouchers. If we do this in mid-spring, the weather will be cool enough that the sculptures will take at least two days to melt completely.”
She smiled. “The way I’m imagining it is this: people will gather around the sculptures waiting for the ice to melt. I want it to be a festive atmosphere – like a picnic or an outdoor café garden. I want them to chat and joke and exchange ideas. I want them to be excited to be there together.”
Vicky went on to the next slide. “We’ll have to be set up at each location, to confirm the winners and to keep an eye on things. But we also need an information booth where we can accept reservations and answer questions. Maybe we can do some giveaways separate from the sculpture vouchers. Finally, I think that we should encourage people to be creative in getting to the vouchers.”
“What, you think people should be able to actively try to chip them out or something?” Rob asked.
“Yes. We’d have to put restrictions on it – no vehicles, and no blowtorches or cigarette lighters, for example. But if a kid wants to go at it with a plastic beach shovel or an ice cream scoop or chopsticks or whatever, I say we let them.” She took a deep breath. “This idea highlights cool and hot; it also brings people together in public places in big cities. Finally, it’s fun and quirky, and will appeal to kids, families, professionals, and young couples. The ice sculptures themselves are hugely visual – I mean, they’re gorgeous. But also, they can represent aspects of Open Skies that we want p
eople to really see.”
Julie nodded.
“I think my proposal hits all the markers that you laid out, and I think it will be different enough to attract attention and loads of word-of-mouth.” She handed around some papers. “Here is my projected budget. As you can see, the biggest expense is, naturally, the ice sculptures and shipping them. I spoke to four different artists and their quotes are on page three. I am confident all these figures are negotiable.”
“They would be, for sure,” Allison said. “For an artist to be involved in something like this, to have their name attached? They’d love it.”
“Yes, I think so, too,” Vicky said. “So, that’s it. Did you have any questions for me?”
She looked around the room. And then the questions and comments and ideas came at her like a wave.
Vicky was listening to Allison talk about how much she liked the idea when she looked over at Julie. She met those amazing mint-green eyes and smiled.
Julie smiled back and winked. That was a freaking home run, Vicky Thompson. Good for you.
**
Vicky hummed a Christmas carol as she hung up Sonia’s latest picture inside her wardrobe door. She took a step back and admired her daughter’s artwork: so any bright colors, so many joyous things. Vicky was sure Sonia was happy.
She wished that she could hang the paintings out in the open – on her fridge or next to her bed. But she didn’t want any questions from the cleaning staff who came in once a week. Vicky was an only child and so couldn’t claim any artsy nieces or nephews, and besides, as she knew from her years of lying about bruises and breaks, the best lies stuck close enough to the truth to be plausible. That’s why she openly told everyone that she sent money to her mother every month – she just neglected to mention that it was for her daughter.
Something caught her eye and she turned to the bedroom window. More snow… just beautiful. She went to the big window in the living room and looked up at the sky. Oh, boy. Dark clouds – really dark. This was no small snowfall, then; this was a howler. Even as she watched, the snow got thicker and heavier and swirled. The wind gusted and made that low moaning sound as it roared down her fireplace.
There was a knock at the door and she called, “Come on in!”
Mattie stuck her head in and smiled at her. “Hi, hon. You seen the storm?”
“Yeah, I just noticed the clouds.”
“Well, Phil and Rosie and Mike won’t be able to go home tonight. They need to stay with us in one of the extra rooms and the common area, OK?”
“Sure. I’m glad they won’t be trying to drive in this mess.”
“I know. Manny’s sending over some food now so how’s about we all have a party?”
“Hey, yeah. Sounds good. I just need to make a quick call, and then I’ll be right out to help set things up, OK?”
“Take your time, hon. I got it under control.”
Vicky found her cell phone and called Diana.
“Hi, darling. Are you OK?”
“Yep. Just checking in with you guys.”
“Oh, we’re fine.”
“I got Sonia’s newest picture.”
“The smiling cat sliding down a rainbow?”
“Yeah. It’s freaking adorable.”
“So. What are you up to tonight?”
“Well, the weather here has taken a really sudden turn for the worse, so a bunch of people are staying with us here in the staff apartments. We’re going to have dinner and light a fire and hang out, wait out the storm.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. What are you guys up to?”
“Ben made popcorn and we’re going to snuggle down on the sofa and watch a movie with Sonia.”
“Let me guess. ‘Frozen’? Again?”
“‘Frozen’. Again.”
They laughed.
“So, you can’t come for Christmas, can you?”
“I wish, Mom. But the prices for flights are outrageous, and I just don’t feel safe driving in this weather. Today showed me, yet again, how fast the weather can turn this time of year.”
“I agree. You stay there, spend the holidays with Opal.”
“I will. Oh, and great news – I got my bonus already.”
“The one they awarded for winning that summer campaign pitch?”
“Yep. So I’ll send half to you tomorrow, OK? You buy Sonia and Ben something nice from me. And yourself, of course.”
“Why don’t you hold on to the money, darling? Put it aside for when Sonia comes, maybe for an apartment?”
“Oh, I’ve done that with my half, don’t worry.”
“So, you’re not buying yourself a Christmas present?”
“Mom, I have a new life. I already have the best present I can possibly imagine. I don’t need anything more, I promise you.”
**
Phil looked across the room at Vicky. He just couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her hair was warm in the firelight and her skin glowed softly. She was wearing jeans and a light-blue peasant-style blouse with a simple silver necklace. The necklace brushed her breasts and his eyes followed its length: he longed to trace those feminine curves with his fingers and his lips.
She was relaxed and smiling as she helped Mike in the kitchen, her movements graceful and gentle. She just took his breath away. The thought that he’d be sleeping here on the sofa in the common room, just a few steps from her own sleeping body, made him simultaneously frustrated and delighted.
“More coffee, Phil?”
He looked up in to Mattie’s knowing eyes. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“Stunning, isn’t she?” Mattie asked as she poured out his coffee, black and hot.
“Sorry?” God, man. Why are you bothering to play dumb with Mattie? The woman knows everything, no use pretending otherwise.
Mattie smiled and said nothing, she just moved on to Rosie and refilled her cup too.
“OK, dinner’s ready!” Vicky called. “Come on.”
Everyone gathered around the large wooden table and somehow, Phil managed to get seated beside Vicky. Her scent – pure and clean and sweet – filled his senses and he almost groaned aloud at the wave of wanting that washed over him.
This is going to be a long, long night.
**
At 2 a.m., Phil was still lying awake, his body straining to get off the sofa and go to Vicky. What would she do if he appeared at her door in the middle of the night? Would she scream? Kiss him? Welcome him in to her bed?
Vicky was also awake, also thinking about Phil just down the hall. Her body had been so acutely aware of him all through dinner; she had found herself leaning closer, brushing his elbow ‘by accident’, turning to face him and smile.
She thought about going in to the common area on some pretext, but what the hell reason could she possibly have for wandering down the hall at 2 a.m. except the obvious one: that she wanted him. Wanted him here, with her, holding her and kissing her until she was breathless.
She turned over and faced the wall, shut her eyes.
This is going to be a long, long night.
Outside, the blizzard raged; inside, a whole different kind of storm twisted and turned. But neither of them made a move and the next morning, they were polite over their coffee and croissants and went their separate ways. They just got on with their lives.
**
Early spring in the mountains was a whole new experience, yet again.
The New Year had come and gone almost in a flash, as Vicky immersed herself in the summer campaign launch. Nobody could believe quite how much work it was, but they buckled down and put in the hours, and by mid-April, by some miracle fueled by lots of coffee and Rob’s guilty-pleasure Survivor CD playing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ on a loop, it had all come together.
&
nbsp; Just in time, too, since Vicky wanted to take her birthday off, and she’d been worried about not getting things done in time. She just wouldn’t be able to justify to herself disappearing during a crunch, but the team pulled it off. When her big day rolled around, she was free as a bird.
She slept in and woke at 9:00. She lay in bed for a while, stretching luxuriously and looking at Sonia’s paintings in her wardrobe. She always opened the door before she got in to bed, so she could see her daughter’s art first thing every morning, before she even set one foot on the floor. Vicky just couldn’t imagine a better way to start the day.
The only thing that would make it better would be if Phil were here with me. Kissing my neck, lifting my nightgown, touching me between my legs.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
Nope. Not going to happen. Give it up, girl.
She got out of bed and headed to her kitchen to make some coffee. She was planning to have the best birthday that she’d had in almost seven years, and she wanted to get on with it.
**
“Happy birthday, Mommy.”
“Oh, thank you, sweet pea.”
“What are you doing for your birthday?”
“Nothing much.” Vicky took a sip of coffee. “I took the day off, so I think I’ll go in to Clarity and treat myself to lunch.”
“What about cake?”
“Cake?”
“Yeah, cake. It’s not really a birthday without cake.”
“Hmmm. You’re right, Sonia. OK, I’ll make sure to have some cake today.”
“And candles?”
“Well. I don’t think I’ll be able to get forty candles on a small cake.”
“You can have just one.”
“Alright, I promise. I’ll have cake and I’ll have a candle.”
“And you’ll make a wish?”
Vicky closed her eyes against her tears. Oh, I will make a wish, indeed, Sonia. I will wish for you to be here with me soon, you sweet girl.
Open Eyes (Open Skies) Page 8