Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)

“It’s probably photoshopped. Can we focus? It’s not as though the CEO is going to be sitting in on this meeting anyway. It seems below his pay grade and something he’d pass on to any one of his hundreds of employees while he’s busy doing whatever CEOs do.” Apart from watching his money grow, or making snow angels in a pile of hundred-dollar bills. It’s probably something I’d do. Naked. Well, maybe not naked, but in a bikini.

“How do you know? Maybe it’s his baby, and he wants to be involved in every aspect of it.” Avery tosses Harley her phone.

“I highly doubt that, but if I run into him, I’ll tell him you think he’s hot. How about that?” I offer.

“There is literally zero chance you would ever even consider doing that. Remember the time you were standing in line behind the lead singer of the Lumineers? They’re your absolute favorite band, and you didn’t even try to get his autograph.”

“He was getting a coffee. And he was clearly in disguise.”

“He was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses inside the coffee shop. That’s not really incognito when you’re famous.” Harley sweeps the pile of puffy stars sitting on the coffee table into a ziplock bag and sets it aside. “Anyway, it’s getting late. Should we think about heading home?”

“One more run-through and then we can go?” I ask.

“For sure.” Avery picks up a rogue star, tosses it in the air, and bats it toward Declan. It beans him on the head. She grins and turns back to me and Harley. “Let’s take it from the top.”

4

COMPOSURE, DON’T YOU DESERT ME

LONDON

I don’t take any chances with my sleep and pop a melatonin before bed. It does the trick, and I fall into a mostly solid sleep. The best and worst part about melatonin is that it gives me strange, vivid dreams. In the dream, I’m trying to flip through my slideshow, but the button is stuck and it won’t go to the next slide. I’m getting frustrated, and suddenly, instead of my presentation, there’s an old video of me and my sisters dancing to “Lady Marmalade.” I wake up sweaty and embarrassed. It’s barely five in the morning, but there’s no way I can go back to bed.

I get up and check my presentation—there is no “Lady Marmalade” video.

I shake off the dream and try not to read too much into it. While I take a long, hot shower, I practice my presentation.

I get dressed, blow-dry my hair, and apply makeup, all while quietly reciting the facts I know about Holt Media.

Harley’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, pouring herself a coffee when I come out of my bedroom, looking for outfit advice. “How’s this? Would a pantsuit be better? Maybe that would be a more professional option.” I’m currently wearing a gray cap-sleeved dress with a black jacket and black heels. It’s not very exciting as far as outfits go, but I prefer to be understated in these situations.

“I think you look great.”

“I’m going to try on a pantsuit and then we can decide.” I leave her standing in the kitchen and go back to my bedroom to change.

Three outfits later, Harley puts her foot down. “They all look fantastic. I say go with the pantsuit though, since that’s the one you keep coming back to.”

“Okay.” I run my hands over my hips. “I just feel like I need to really bring it today. This is a huge opportunity.”

Harley takes me by the shoulders. “Look at me, London.”

I drag my gaze away from my reflection. I know I need to take the stress-panicking down a few notches.

“They called us, not the other way around. They need to sell us on them. I’m sorry I can’t go with you, but if anyone can do this, you can. Once you get started, you can sell a space heater to a desert dweller.” Harley has always been great at pep talks.

“Their connections are a big draw.”

Harley smiles. “Which is something they already know. They have a name. And maybe we don’t have a huge one, but we have a solid client base, and we’re growing exponentially. Which they’re aware of if they did any research at all.”

“This is super true.” I exhale what I’m assuming is a coffee-scented breath in my sister’s face. To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch. “If we get this, it could open so many new doors for us.”

“You’re absolutely right, it could.”

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but so much could change if we can secure this exposure and these connections.

“We’d be able to hire more employees, and Avery couldn’t stonewall us anymore. We’d have to if we end up with more events and clients.” I try to tamp down my excitement over the thought. “I could spend more time on the centerpieces and that kind of thing. And my Etsy side business could actually grow.” As of right now, I’m fighting to keep up with the limited orders I’m currently able to fulfill.