All the guys turned to me. “That could work, actually,” I said. “It’s debatable from both sides and both genders. Use it for your debut podcast episode, but take out ‘on the rag.’ Nobody says that anymore.”
Boris cleared his throat. “But what’s the answer?”
Sebastian sat forward and put his chin in his hand. It was the most interested he’d looked since lunch had arrived. Suddenly, my throat was dry. As a talking piece, the question worked well; opinions generally landed on one side or the other. It would rile up listeners, but as long as we tackled the issue from both the male and female perspective, the discussion could be healthy and informative. We could even touch on biology, and maybe—just maybe—the listeners would learn something.
But that wasn’t what the guys were asking.
Sebastian, in particular, looked as if he wanted to know my response. And of course now, I couldn’t seem to speak. “It’s a . . . personal preference,” I said. “There’s no one right answer.”
“But in general?” Justin asked. “I’ve always heard women are extra turned on while menstruating.”
“You also told me BDE stands for ‘bestest day ever,’” Sebastian said.
“What’s BDE?” I asked.
Justin’s mouth slid into a smile. “Yeah, Sebastian, what is it? You should be the one to tell her since, according to New York Magazine, you’ve got it.”
I frowned. “Is it some kind of STD?”
“Jesus, no,” Sebastian said, nearly lurching out of his chair. “It stands for ‘big dick energy.’”
Oh. I didn’t need any more clarification. From a biological standpoint, Sebastian was unequivocally male—tall, broad, full head of hair, enviable jawline, mesmerizing light eyes to lure in prey . . . but there was more to it than that. He oozed confidence, virility, and moved with the kind of ease I rarely saw in other men. All that in one man was partly what’d drawn me to him in the café.
I could only suspect, based on the facts, that he had the goods to back it up.
Justin held up his hands about a foot apart, subtly nodding at Sebastian as he grinned at me and whispered, “You won’t be disappointed.”
Sebastian threw the paperclip at Justin’s head. “Dude.”
Mortified, I squeezed my eyes shut to get the image out of my head, but it was replaced with Sebastian playing air guitar in the shower again—only with one much more favorable detail.
“Aw, come on,” Justin said. “George’s no prude. She’s seen things.”
“But has her counterpart?” Sebastian asked.
I couldn’t blame Justin for looking confused. He didn’t know that Sebastian was talking about Georgina, not George, because around here, only I knew there was a difference. Until now, it seemed. Sebastian was on to me, and my denying it over beers hadn’t thrown him off the scent. I thought back to the game, the way Sebastian had almost sounded jealous that François and I had “bumped hats.” The way Sebastian had trapped me against the table to kiss—or strangle—me, and how I wouldn’t have stopped him. Not with my hair curled around his finger and “buns” on his tongue. Why was I the only person Sebastian was willing to nickname?
Would he have kissed me if not for Justin’s interruption?
The thought made my heart pound the way it had in the moment. I would’ve let him, but I couldn’t forget that Sebastian had considered me an enemy up until this point, and maybe still did.
“Hard at work, I see,” I heard from behind me. We all looked over at Vance in the doorway of the office.
“We’re practicing for our podcast,” Justin said.
“Podcast?” Vance looked to me. “Your idea?”
Sebastian made an exaggerated red slash on the spread in front of him.
“Not really,” I said. What? Dionne would have a fit if she heard me giving credit when I should take it. But it wasn’t as if I’d worked hard for it. All I’d done was smile and laugh enough to make my cheeks ache—and recognize that Sebastian and Justin’s back-and-forth was something special. “After listening to these two bicker for weeks, it was a natural connection to make.”
“It was her idea,” Sebastian said, his eyes down.
Vance nodded toward the hall. “George, can I see you in my office?”
“Oh. Sure.” I was sixteen and getting called to the principal for too many tardies. I shut my laptop and took a notebook and my phone. Sebastian watched me stand, his eyes jumping between his boss and me.
I followed Vance to the elevator. We usually met once a week, but this was the first time he’d come looking for me. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Everything’s great.” We rode up a few floors, where he gestured me toward his office. “Can I get you anything?” he asked as we passed his assistant.
“No, thank you. We just had gyros.”
“Don’t feel as if you have to keep up with their greasy food habits,” he said as he sat at his desk. “Wouldn’t want you wasting as much time at the gym as Sebastian and Justin seem to.”
I took a chair in front of him and crossed my legs. For someone my height, it wouldn’t take much to get fat, Neal had said once in front of his family when I’d gone for a second helping of Christmas dinner. Vance was hedging a little too closely to unsolicited advice on my figure, so I moved us back on track. “How can I help you?”
“How do you feel things are going?” he asked, opening a drawer.
“Great.” I’d said as much in our last appointment. “I’m very happy with the team’s progress.”
“And we’re very happy with you.” Vance took out a Modern Man-stamped notepad and matching pen. “It’ll be a while before we have any firm numbers, these things take time, but don’t think we haven’t noticed the impact you’ve made these last several weeks.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But I’m only doing my job.”
“The online analytics are already showing results. Surprisingly, the female demographic is actually growing.”
I opened my notebook. “My team at the agency has been working closely with the sales department on their targeting.”
He shifted in his seat. “And who would’ve thought something as simple as changing the name of the magazine would make such a difference?”
I had to admit, adding A Gentleman’s Guide underneath the masthead was one of my better ideas, and perhaps the only thing Sebastian hadn’t fought me on. “It’s all about honing our image,” I said.
“The focus groups you’ve run were very positive too.” Vance doodled circles on the paper in front of him. “The board has noticed, and we all agree the magazine is headed in the right direction.”
“How would you describe the progress we’ve made?” I asked, taking notes.
“Still Modern Man but more refined and with broader appeal. We’re starting to reach the men who think with their big head more than their little one.”
Not exactly how I would’ve put it, but I looked forward to sharing a laugh over that with Dionne. “Anything else?”
“The ‘women who drone’ webisode is a great example. Strong, shareable content that’s supportive of women while appealing to both genders.”
“Glad you liked it,” I said. “A friend of mine posted footage while working on a film in Toronto, and people went wild over it. It was an easy leap to get her on board.”
“That’s the thinking we need.” He leaned his elbows on his desk. “Look. At the end of the day, we’re a business.”
“Of course.”
“Sebastian was exactly the person to grow this magazine quickly. To capture the attention of millions and launch a sensation. But those tactics aren’t working anymore, and he’s been distracted the last year. I’m not sure he has what it takes to adapt.”
“Our team has shown great progress since I arrived,” I said carefully, hoping to send the message that this was my team too, and everyone held value, including Sebastian. Especially Sebastian.
“My point exactly. Sebastian didn’t ev
en recognize that we had a female demographic, much less appeal to them, and he either didn’t see or refused to admit that we were losing our more sophisticated readers.”
I opened my mouth to say that wasn’t true, but hadn’t I skewered him for those exact reasons during my first presentation?
Vance continued, “He had a year to turn things around but couldn’t. Not until you.”
“He needed a little guidance,” I said. “Which is exactly why you brought me in. When the compass breaks, I simply right the ship.”
“It’s more than that, George. The men respond well to you. Even that ADHD case Justin. Even Sebastian. Though I see him fighting it, he’s made improvements as well.”
“So we both agree.”
“It seems we do. I want to bring you on full-time.”
“I’m practically here full-time as it is,” I said, sitting back. “I still need to be at my office one or two days a week in order to—”
“No, no. I mean we’d like to hire you, Georgina. As creative director.”
Oh. “That’s Sebastian’s position,” I said dumbly. Sebastian didn’t just work as a creative director—he lived the job title. “Are you . . . are you promoting him?”
He hesitated. “Sebastian is welcome to stay on the team—your team—if you decide to keep him. That would be your call.”
That didn’t sound like a promotion. In fact, it sounded like a demotion. “Sebastian is very nearly back on course,” I said slowly. “Trust me. He’s got this.”
“It’s obvious that a change in perspective has done everyone some good,” Vance said. “Against the advice of my peers, I gave Sebastian more editorial control than customary for this industry because I had a feeling about him. It worked in my favor. I have that same feeling about you.”
I wiped my palms on my slacks. “I’m very happy with the position I’m in now,” I said. “In fact, there are opportunities within my current agency.”
“That so? What kinds? I’d at least like the chance to match them.”
It was only partially true. I’d heard rumblings from everyone except my boss about the possibility of expansion, from hiring new agents to opening an office out of state to introducing a new department. Yet, any of those options would be, at best, a lateral move for me. “I’m not at liberty to discuss them,” I said.
“Are you at liberty to discuss salary?” He glanced at the notepad, then cocked his head and scratched out what he’d written. He hadn’t been doodling but writing zeroes. “I suppose I’ll need to up my game if I’ve got competition.” He wrote a new number and skated it across the desk. “Here’s what I’m authorized to offer. If anyone asks, you negotiated me here.”
I widened my eyes. It was nearly double my current salary, which was already very decent—at least, for those who lived anywhere but New York City and didn’t care for a terminally sick dog. A strange sense of pride settled over me. I’d taken on this job unsure of how I’d wrangle an office full of “bad boys.” Clearly, I’d succeeded. My boss had believed I could do it, just like she’d cultivated my drive since day one. Yet, it’d been some time since I’d been promoted. At my current position, job satisfaction came from challenging assignments such as Modern Man, but considering Dionne had founded the agency, my position lacked upward mobility. Had my ambition plateaued as a result? I wasn’t sure how I felt about staying on as creative director, but it hit me that Vance was offering the more I’d never get where I was now.
And I did want more. That was how I’d grown into George, and it was how I took care of my loved ones. Money had been tight ever since Neal had stopped working and left me to handle our bills, including the seemingly never-ending vet visits. Once I’d started to fall behind, I hadn’t been able to catch back up, and the debt had been mounting for a while. The number in front of me would not only allow me to cover Bruno’s healthcare expenses but upgrade them. And put a serious dent in my debt. And leave some for myself.
“You’re speechless,” Vance said. “That’s what I was going for. We’d love to bring you on as soon as you’re able to get free of your current situation.”
“I . . . I’m not even sure I’m legally allowed. I’d have to look over my contract.”
“Well, find out,” he said, ripping off the top slip of paper and crumpling it. “Take the weekend to weigh your options. And of course, keep this between us. It won’t be easy breaking this to Sebastian, but I’ll handle him. It shouldn’t come from anyone but me.” He grumbled as he tossed the notepad back in a drawer. “If he storms in here one more time making demands, he’ll get an unwelcome reality check.”
Sebastian. He’d been running the show successfully for a long time. What’d happened this last year to throw him off his game? Perhaps I could’ve gotten to the bottom of it if he’d ever indulged me in a one-on-one session like I’d requested. But he hadn’t thought it was worth his time.
Could I do this to him knowing how much he’d dedicated to the position?
Dismissed, I exited the office in a daze and headed back downstairs. I went straight for the restroom, where there’d be no chance of running into any of the guys. I needed a moment to process this, and peace and quiet was hard to come by anywhere but the ladies’ room. As soon as I turned the corner, though, I nearly ran into Sebastian on his way out of the men’s.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the wall and blocking me from the moment alone I desperately needed. “What’d Vance want?”
“What?” I stalled. Vance wants . . . me. Not you. “Oh. Nothing. Just a check-in.”
“Don’t you do that Fridays?”
“Yes, but as we get closer to the end of my assignment . . .” I tried to swallow without gulping. “I guess he needs to touch base more.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” Sebastian’s damn shoulders were so broad, I couldn’t even see around him. That made it easy to notice when they eased from around his ears. Did he suspect something was up? I gestured behind him. “I just need to—”
“I’ve barely seen you all week,” he said.
I held my notebook to my chest. “I had some work to catch up on at my office,” I said to explain my absence since the baseball game.
Which could very well be my old office soon.
Was Vance testing the waters, or had that been an official offer? And was it firm? The salary was generous, but I’d never leave any job or position, especially one I loved, without negotiating for the best.
Sebastian tilted his head. “Well?”
“Sorry, what?” I asked.
“I said, how’s François?”
“Um.” I scratched my eyebrow, trying to glance around Sebastian’s irritatingly large physique to signal that it wasn’t the best time for a chat. I needed to digest the news, and I certainly didn’t want to be talking to Sebastian until I’d decided how to broach this with him . . . or if I should at all. “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since after the game.”
Sebastian glanced over my head. “After the game? Justin said you went straight home.”
I cocked my head. Justin had already teased me mercilessly about François. He’d peppered me with questions even after I’d told him with exasperation that yes, the date had been fine, and maybe we would go out again and no, François had not kissed me at my train stop. A first kiss in a subway car with onlookers would’ve been only slightly less awkward than one in front of Sebastian and his sidekick at the game. But why would any of that have come up between Justin and Sebastian? “I did go home,” I said. “But we took the train together until his stop.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows lowered. “He couldn’t even see you to your door?”
“He would’ve had to ride all the way to Brooklyn, walk three blocks, then backtrack home.” I caught myself fidgeting with my notepad and stilled, not wanting my anxiety to show. Sebastian making non-hostile conversation for once wasn’t helping my budding guilt over the fact that I’d been offered his job minutes earlier.
“You only live t
hree blocks from the subway?” he asked. “What’re your cross streets again?”
“I live on Pineapple.” This conversation was going nowhere. Couldn’t we be having it after I used the bathroom? “But again,” I said, “it would’ve made no sense for Frank to—”
“Pineapple. Cute,” Sebastian said, smiling like it was an inside joke. “If it were me, I would’ve walked my date home—at least to see how the hell her Great Dane fits in a one-bedroom. Or is it a studio?”
Despite my desire to escape, I smiled a little at that. “One-bed. We go on lots of walks.”
“Hey, Bruno and I are good on walks. Any time you need some extra muscle, let me know.”
“Sure.” With a higher income, Bruno and I could move closer to a park. Apparently, I really was considering Vance’s offer, but I couldn’t decide how to feel about it while Sebastian was being so nice. I moved to get around him. “I need to—”
“I’m available weekends,” he teased. “This one, in fact.”
“Sounds good.” I ducked to the right.
“You have plans with François?”
“No plans,” I called over my shoulder and finally took cover in the restroom.
I locked myself in a stall, leaned back against the door, and exhaled a breath. It wasn’t as if I owed Sebastian anything. Not an explanation for considering the position, or exploring the idea that I might want it.
It wasn’t the first job offer I’d ever gotten from a client, but it was the first that would be such a big step up. And the only one I’d taken seriously. I’d loved reconfiguring Modern Man because I was passionate about problem solving, but neither the magazine’s content nor its message inspired the same excitement in me. If the publication continued on the path I’d set, I’d remain a casual reader, but at the heart of it, I wasn’t the director the team needed. One of the best parts of my job was that no two days were alike, and once I started to get comfortable in an assignment, it ended for another.
At the same time, I knew firsthand that the creative director position regularly presented unique and complex problems. Regardless of how I felt about coming in to the same office each day, it wasn’t a dull job by any means. I hadn’t gotten this far in my career by walking away from challenges—or opportunities to advance. I prided myself on being a smart and savvy businesswoman with more drive than the person behind her.
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