Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,49
shock of awareness bolted up my arm and down my spine, and though I took a too-fast step to put space between us, my eyes hung on her lips as her cheeks flushed to match their color.
I turned back to her presentation, eager to move past the feeling, futile as the attempt was. “I mean it, Laney. This is impressive. I did have a thought—what if you used olive instead of teal as your contrast? It would bring the scheme together and is still masculine enough to work for your knockout. For detailing, you could throw in an emerald.”
“I really like that idea,” she said in disbelief.
“Another thing I thought—what if you pulled in a secondary element? Something to tie each directive together. Like incorporating a monochromatic floral for the romance, a halftone for the comics … just something to give it texture.”
Laney gazed at her screen. “You might have just nailed what I’m missing.”
A smile ignited in my chest and spread like wildfire.
“But as versatile as mine is,” she continued, “your tagline is too direct, too clear not to win the bid. It explains the concept immediately, but when coupled with the artwork, it’s undeniable.” She clicked through a couple of mine through a pause. “We have a similar style. How … unexpected.”
“I noticed that too.” The way we approached composition, the detailing and feel of our illustrations could have come from connected thoughts. Though where her colors were a softer set, mine leaned more into deeper tones—blues so deep and warm, they were almost purple. A terracotta shade for contrast. I leaned into the cool, Laney into the warm.
“What if you did a superhero set like I have, but mix it up with not just a drink, but with actual light? You could throw a neon light effect on the text. Put a lightning bolt in Thor’s hand or use flames. A lighter, a ball of magic…play with the lighting part of getting lit.”
The idea sparked thoughts so fast, they leapfrogged over each other and away from me. “I didn’t even think of that. We could even put a pop art effect on some of the comic ads, but in a way that would still tie in with the rest.”
“Oh—that’s good. But don’t you dare touch this color scheme.”
“Deal.”
She smiled up at me in such a way that I realized how close she was to me. How little it would take to touch her.
“Look at us,” she said. “Twice now we’ve talked without me walking away furious. This must be some kind of record.”
“You haven’t left yet—there’s still time for me to make you mad.”
With a laugh, she reached in front of me to gather her computer. I caught the scent of her hair, that sweet, crisp floral she was fond of, sparking a runaway imagining of burying my nose in the silken locks, testing their texture between my fingertips.
What would it be like, to trust her? What would it be to earn her trust?
How satisfying would it be to allow the indulgence, and how fortunate would I be to win her affection?
“Well, then, I’d better quit while I’m ahead.” She clutched her laptop to her chest, still smiling. “Well done, Liam. And thanks for the suggestions.”
I slipped my hands in my pockets so she wouldn’t see me fidget, suddenly flustered. “Same goes. Maybe I will beat you, now that you’ve given me advice.”
“That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Lure me in so you can figure out how to beat me?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“I already regret it,” she teased.
The door flew open, startling us toward the sound.
Georgie walked in talking. “Liam, have you seen—” She came to a halt, her gaze shifting from me, to Laney, then back again. “Laney. Here you are.”
“Liam was just showing me all his design secrets, not realizing I’m going to use them to beat him.”
Georgie glanced at me, amused.
I shrugged. “I just gave her bogus advice, so the game is afoot.”
“Sabotage makes much more sense than the alternative,” Georgie joked. “Laney, would you meet me in my office? I wanted to discuss our next briefing at Wasted Words. Just need to have a word with Liam first.”
“Of course,” Laney answered, our smiling eyes meeting before she left.
The second the door was closed, Georgie flew across the office toward me.
“Liam Darcy, tell me right now that wasn’t what I think it was.” She wasn’t accusing—she was bubbling with excitement.