Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,44
stared even more resolutely at my hands, noting that my nail polish was a little scuffed. I made a mental note to refresh it when I got back home. Not that I needed to worry about my nails in order to sit on my couch and search for a job. Ugh. Michelle was going to be pissed with me, and quite rightly so.
* * *
“I’m getting sick of having to say things to you twice. Look at me now.” I raised my gaze slowly. God. His bluest of blue eyes seemed to be looking right inside my soul.
“So, like I said, you no longer work for the agency.”
“Yes. I just thought it would be best if I—”
“I didn’t ask you a question.” What?
Was he seriously telling me not to speak unless spoken to? He was definitely doing a great job of having me not regret my decision to leave.
“That’s cool. Makes it even easier for me to hire you directly.”
“What? I mean, excuse me?”
“Pretty sure you heard me.”
“Yes, I heard you, but...”
“There is no ‘but’. We’ve done some great work so far, and that’s just the beginning. We have the big meeting with the client tomorrow. Assuming they like the ideas, which, unless they’ve had lobotomies. they will, then the real work will start when it comes to getting the ads made, out the door, and whooping Free PE’s ass.”
I really wasn’t following his train of thought.
“So, the project has only just begun, and given that this campaign is largely a result of your genius, and your illustration and design skills, I’m going to need you here to finish the job you started.” He was insane. I didn’t start anything. I arrived there as a temp, and somehow had gotten sucked into his vortex, just like Michelle had said.
“But I think you and anyone else could carry on with the campaign now that you have the initial ideas together. You put as much into that as I did. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen—”
“But it did. And now that it has, we need to run with it. This campaign is going to make you famous.” We? There was no we.
“I honestly think it’s best if I just go. I really wasn’t intending for any of this, and I don’t want to be famous.”
“Bullshit. Everyone wants to be famous. Not necessarily movie-star famous, but notable in their field. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t.” I looked him in the eye.
“I do not want to be famous. In any connotation of the word.”
“Okay well, if money’s the issue, rest assured that we will make it worth your while. Deputy Creative Director on this project is a very well-paid role.”
“It’s not about the money. I swear, it’s just that none of this stuff was part of the plan and I—”
“Fuck whatever plans you thought you had. Cancel them. This is what I’m offering.”
I looked down at the desk as he slid a small folded piece of paper my way. I picked it up, and unfolded it slowly.
“You can’t just throw money at the problem. This is not Pretty Woman, and I’m not about to—” Holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. How could people just bounce around those kinds of sums of money like it was nothing? This was beyond Pretty Woman, and more like Indecent Proposal.
“I can’t accept this.” Not only could I not take the money, but I felt like I was about to vomit. It was all just so much. Raine was so much.
“The hell you can’t. Be smart about this. You’re right, this isn’t Pretty Woman. It isn’t about sex. Jesus, I never thought I’d hear myself say those words to a woman I wasn’t related to. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re dynamite in bed, but that’s not where your main talents lie.
“I’m not saying or doing any of this just to blow smoke up your ass, or to get into your panties—aside from the fact that that ship has already sailed, I’ve never had to pay for pussy in my life, and I’m not about to start now. You’re really fucking talented. You have a gift that I very rarely see in creatives. I have the best in the industry working for me here, but most of them don’t have that thing.”
“What thing?”
“That once-in-a-generation something that just sets someone above the rest. You earned that money, fair and square, ten times over, and you’ll be earning a lot more if