Snapped. Christine d'Abo
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than feeling intimidated by her comments, my body relaxed and I slipped into the zone. This wasn’t my first time starting out as the underdog and I had no doubt it wouldn’t be my last. I launched into my elevator pitch, outlining the key design points that Sophia had made me memorize before leaving. Short, sweet and a clean enough tease to make sure I had them hooked.
As I spoke, Reid stepped up beside me, which was a challenge to my attention.
“Of course I’ll save the details for our meeting later this week.”
Mr. Warner shook my hand, but his face remained impassive. “There is stiff competition for the contract. We’re looking for someone not only with a solid business plan but excitement for the job.”
“We definitely have that.” I gave him a small smile, but it wasn’t returned.
The air might as well have been sucked from the room as they left. Shit, this was our big opportunity. Yes, business had been better since Impact Load aired, but we were currently getting smaller jobs, nothing that was going to keep us afloat and allow us to grow the business. We needed employees, people who could help Sophia with the hands-on jobs while I worked with the business side. Not to mention our loans were getting close to coming due. We’d taken out a lot of money to help bankroll our setup and the time was coming when we’d have to start making payments.
Brian looked down at his feet. “Well, that could have gone better.”
“I’ve spent a lot of time on this proposal. The numbers will work in our favor.”
“I’m sure you’ll turn it around.” Brian headed toward the door. “Reid, want to grab your camera and meet me downstairs in twenty? We can head over to the site and look at setup shots.”
“Yeah, I have my bag with me. I’ll grab it and meet you down there.” Reid waited for Brian to leave before he said anything else. “That was tense.”
I punched him in the arm. “You’re an asshole.”
“What the hell?” He rubbed the spot where my fist had connected.
“I should ask you the same thing. Were you trying to distract me, coming up beside me like that? We need this contract more than I need to be a judge on the show.”
“Jesus, I didn’t do a thing. Is that why you’re acting like a tight-ass?”
“I’m not a tight-ass.”
Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course not.”
The attraction I’d been feeling for him was starting to wane. “I’m a professional running a business. I’ve grown up. Have you?”
The smile slipped from his face. “Yes.”
“If that’s true, then you should be able to appreciate my position. This is my livelihood. I’m here to do a job and I plan on doing the best possible.”
“You will.” Reid walked past me at that point, his body grazing the side of mine. “You always knew how to look after yourself.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. You preferred to be on your own.”
My shoulders drew back and I lowered my chin. “That’s not true. I loved you. You know why I left.”
“Of course. It was always my fault.” Reid’s smile didn’t slip, but something in his expression changed. “I’ll see you on set.”
In a blink I was all alone in the meeting room.
Day two of our New York auditions starts tomorrow. The advance crew has done a fantastic job at thinning out the numbers and getting us the best candidates. Reid has embraced the role of assistant director, having taken charge completely. It was a good choice picking him for this project. Tamara has taken her role of the hard-ass to heart. I might need her to dial that back a bit.
Production Notes, Brian Merrick, Director
My ass was sore from all of the sitting. This was our tenth potential competitor of the morning, and the third time I’d been subjected to a designer gushing over Jennifer and Rene. I wasn’t a known quantity for many of these people. Fine. That didn’t mean I had to enjoy being ignored. I couldn’t blame my foul mood on that, though.
It was hot sitting under the lights on our little platform. The warehouse we were using as our filming location stank of mold and dust. Jennifer was wearing a perfume that made my head pound and my teeth ache. We’d been at this for a few hours now and we still had hours to go. If I survived, I was going to treat myself with an extra glass of wine back at my hotel room.
“Oh, the purple and yellow make for such a brilliant contrast!” Jennifer grinned at the latest contestant. “What color did you say you’d make the walls?”
The contestant’s name was Andrea and she had a pretentious air that had me clenching my teeth. “Pale lavender. It will make the accessories pop.”
I tried really hard not to roll my eyes, but I don’t think I managed. I’d have to get Brian to ask the postproduction team to edit that shit right the hell out. It was the least professional thing I could possibly do, not at all the image that I wanted out there. I might be a bitch on the show, but I didn’t need to be one in real life.
“What do you think, Tamara?” Rene asked me in a tone that would have put a diabetic into a coma.
The poor contestant didn’t deserve my wrath. It wasn’t her fault that this was the fifth purple-yellow-lavender mix we’d seen this morning. Nor was it her problem that I was still pissed that my scheduled meeting with Mr. Warner and Ms. Young had been canceled at the last minute. It was one thing to deal with costars who made no bones about disliking me; it was another when I wasn’t being taken seriously in a business deal.
Still, one look at the haphazardly thrown-together ensemble and ill-conceived layout, and I knew that she wasn’t going to make it past me to the next round of competition. “The colors look nice, but there’s nothing that really makes it stand out. Did you purchase those pillows or make them?”
Andrea paled. “Umm, yes. I bought them. Part of design is having an eye for what goes together.”
I leaned forward, and from that distance I was able to see that the price tag was still attached. “Next time you might want to consider going for quality over value. In this case the cheap finishing touches take away from the overall look. It looks as though you threw this together ten minutes before you arrived. I’m sorry, you don’t get a vote from me.”
Andrea looked as though she might cry, not exactly the reaction I’d wanted. But I saw how long and hard Sophia worked on her designs, trying to find the balance between value and curb appeal for our clients. The last thing I wanted to do was undermine the people who had a real talent for design by putting through someone who wasn’t up to par. Andrea was escorted off, and I hated to notice the tears in her eyes. Shit, I’d done that to her.
What the hell was the matter with me?
Up next was an older woman named Elsie, who looked as though she’d come straight out of the sixties. She’d wheeled in a mannequin that wore a set of drapes and had piles of pillows around its base.
Rene smiled at her. “Tell me, Elsie, what brings you here today?”
“I’ve always dreamed of working in a design house. Ever since I was a girl.” Her cheeks twitched as she smiled. “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous.”
“Why don’t you show us what you have?” I wanted to keep my persona as cool as possible, but it was hard in the face of her obvious nerves.
“I wanted to pay tribute to my family so I incorporated our tartan colors while bringing