Beautiful Bastard

here,” I said carefully. “I worked hard on that account, and I do feel ownership over it. If you don’t mind, I’d like the board to see the details on the Papadakis in the handouts you have. But I’m still going to present the Sanders pitch.”
    He considered this, eyes moving over my face. A muscle in his jaw twitched, a telltale sign of his impatience. “Fine. Pitch it to me here. Convince me you’re not committing suicide in there.”
    Straightening, I said, “The campaign is a play on Top Chef. But each episode, or ad, will feature a different ingredient in their food and will be a challenge to create something high-end gourmet for pets.”
    Bennett’s eyes were veiled, but he smiled sincerely. “That’s clever, Chloe.”
    I beamed at his honesty, savoring this moment. “Not really. That’s the joke. Sanders ingredients are basic: good meat. Simple grains. Dogs don’t care how fancy their food is. They want meat. On a bone. That tastes good. My dad gave his dogs gourmet chow every day, with brown rice and wheatgrass. I’m not kidding. And as a special gift on their birthday he’d give them a cheap, meaty bone. It’s the owner who cares about the greens and the brown rice and all that shit. Not the pets.”
    His smile broadened.
    “It’s a way to make fun of ourselves for pampering our pets and embracing that side of us that treats them like cherished family. Sanders’ is the meaty-bone chow that you can spoil them with every day. The animal ‘judges’ will always choose the Sanders recipe.”
    “You did it.”
    “A campaign? That’s the point.”
    “Yes, but I knew you could do that. I meant the way you pitched it. You reeled me in, caught me.”
    I laughed, knowing a Bennett compliment when I saw it. “Thank you.”
    “Take me back, Chloe. Tell me right now that you will.”
    A louder laugh burst out, and I rubbed my hands over my face. “Always such a bossy asshole.”
    “You’re going to pretend you don’t miss me? You look like hell too, you know. Julia called me last night as I was putting the slides together—”
    I gaped at him. “Julia called you?”
    “—and told me you were a mess and I had to get my shit together and find you. I told her it was already under way. I was going to do it anyway, but her call made it easier to come here ready to beg.”
    “Do you even know how to beg?” I asked, grinning outright now.
    Bennett licked his lips, dropping his eyes to my mouth. “Probably not. Want to show me?”
    “Give it a try. Give me your best grovel.”
    “With all due respect, I’m going to have to ask you to suck it, Miss Mills.”
    “Only if you beg.”
    His eyes widened, and before he could say anything else, I took the Papadakis folder from his hand and left.

    I entered the boardroom with Bennett right on my heels. The murmuring voices stopped when we appeared.
    I handed Director Cheng the folder, and he sifted through the handouts of the Papadakis slides. He smiled. “How on earth did you manage to finish two projects?”
    I stammered out a few syllables, completely unprepared for his question.
    “She’s efficient,” Bennett said, walking around me and taking a seat at the table. “When she wrapped up the Papadakis account, we suggested she take a short internship elsewhere until she finished her degree. After all, we’re hoping she’ll be at Ryan Media for the foreseeable future.”
    I struggled to hide my shock. What the hell is he talking about?
    “Fantastic,” said an older man at the end of the table. “On Papadakis?”
    Bennett nodded. “Working under my father. He needs someone to manage this one since it will take up an FTE. Chloe was the obvious choice, if she’ll accept.”
    I swallowed down about five thousand different reactions. The primary one was irritation, for his bringing this up in front of the board. But tangled up with that were also gratitude, excitement, pride. Bennett would be getting an earful after I was finished here.
    “Well, let’s get started then,” Cheng said, leaning back in his chair.
    I picked up my laser pointer and walked to the front of the room, feeling as though the floor were made of Jell-O. Two seats away from the head of the table, Bennett cleared his throat, catching my eye.
    I’d need to ask him about that too. Because I was pretty sure that right before I began speaking he mouthed the words “I love you.”
    Sneaky bastard.

    They said my presentation would be one for the brochure, the