He was no longer an observer.
Trey had signed on to fight for the magazine and that meant thinking outside the box.
They’d just finished watching the premiere of a French film that made a statement about caring for those with mental health issues. It was very powerful. He wondered if Sage knew the language or if she was taking advantage of the subtitles. He wouldn’t know because their communication so far that day had pertained to business only—nothing personal.
Outside the theater, a mass of photographers were snapping more photos of the stars. One photographer told Trey and Sage to pose. She didn’t want to, but Trey coaxed her into it. He casually placed his arm around her waist. He longed to pull her closer, but he resisted the urge.
As soon as the photo was taken, Sage pulled away. She immediately set to work talking to any performer who would listen to her.
The more he observed her, the more he knew that there was no stopping her. Just like now, as they stood outside the theater, she was doing her best to make connections. One by one, people turned away from her. Trey wanted to go up to them and tell them to quit being so rude, but he knew Sage wouldn’t appreciate the gesture nor would it help their situation.
Sage was a strong woman who didn’t need anyone to take care of her. Her strength and determination impressed him. She didn’t turn the magazine around with backdoor deals. She didn’t pay people off. She didn’t make outrageous promises. She did absolutely nothing wrong.
Sage turned the magazine around with integrity, smarts and kindness.
Kindness. Who would have figured?
She was kind to people, found out what they were passionate about and then agreed to get on board to further their pet projects. It was a win-win for everyone.
Now how did you stop something that was so good?
“Trey, this isn’t working.” Sage frowned. “Everyone sees the name of my publication and turns away. Or worse, they tell me what they think of QTR. And it’s nothing I would repeat. Maybe I should propose to the board that we take on a new name.”
Trey shook his head. “The reputation my father put upon the magazine will follow you, even through a name-change.”
“Then maybe I should take off my badge. At least then people will give me a chance before they reject what I’m offering.”
“You need your badge to give you access to the festival events, but...” He paused to give this some thought.
“But what?”
She’d been on to something. He just needed to think for a moment.
“Trey. Speak.”
“Maybe you need a different approach.”
“You mean instead of being up front about the magazine I represent?” When he nodded, she said, “Even though it’s clearly printed on my press badge?”
He hadn’t gotten this far in business without cutting some corners or playing a little subterfuge. If people got to know Sage without the curse of QTR hanging around her neck, both literally and figuratively, they would see that she would never sink to the level of his father.
And then he realized what they needed to do. He looked at the worried expression on her face and couldn’t wait to replace it with one of her bright, contagious smiles.
“Come with me.” And without thinking, he took her hand in his.
Her hand felt good wrapped around his. It was like they were two pieces of a puzzle and they fit together. He made a point of zigzagging through the crowd of smartly dressed people.
When they’d cleared the crowd of people, Sage withdrew her hand. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I’d rather know. I really need to get back there and try to make some sort of connection, even if I have to hang a sign around my neck that says QTR has changed.”
He smiled at her as he led her toward Cannes’ elite shops. “You’re on the right track.”
“I am?” She sent him a puzzled look. “We’re going to make a sign?”
He chuckled. “Nothing quite so obvious.”