Rise - Part One (Rise #1)(8)

"It's nothing." I take another careful sip of the tea from the paper cup. "I think it's a sign that I should be focusing on my career."

"Oh shit." She closes her laptop with a quick flip of her hand. "I'm sorry, Tess. I completely forgot to tell you something."

I lean forward. I already know that she's going to tell me something about her baby. I love stories about the sweet things Haven does, even if the majority of them are about how she looks when she's asleep or the cute outfit Lilly dressed her in that day. "What did the baby do this morning?"

"The baby?" She runs her finger over her brow. "She smiled at me before I left for work."

The priceless look of utter contentment on Lilly's face is worth the crowded subway ride to get here. "Did you get a picture of it?"

"No." She shakes her head slightly. "That's not what I needed to tell you. This is about work."

"Your work?" I glance towards the corridor outside her open office door. I'm always impressed when I arrive at the tower that houses Hughes Enterprises, the company Lilly works for. It's an environment that suits her perfectly and judging by how excited she always is when she calls me from here, I know she's found the place she belongs.

"Your work," she corrects me with a pointed finger in my direction. "I have a job for you."

The last time she said that it was planning a birthday party for a five-year-old boy whose family lives in the same building as Lilly. It was a gesture that came from her desire to help me. I was touched, even though the job itself didn't fit into my criteria for budget or exposure. I'd sat down with the boy's mother one afternoon in Central Park and had helped her formulate a pirate themed birthday party for her son and six of his friends on a budget of less than a hundred dollars.

"What kind of a job?" I ask, knowing that whatever it is, I'll help. Taking on the task of assisting in planning someone's birthday or anniversary party may not add to my professional portfolio, but it does give me something to do and the feeling of accomplishment it provides is a rush that's hard to describe.

"It's for Corteck." She lowers her voice to a faint whisper.

The action is telling. Corteck, the company that Lilly's husband, Clive, owns is a direct competitor of Hughes Enterprises in the field of tech development. Lilly's assured me, more than once, that the rivalry only adds spice to her marriage. I've seen her and Clive together, and it's hard to imagine how anything, especially a business conflict, could tear them apart. She's also told me that her boss, Alec Hughes, is fine with the arrangement, as long as Lilly doesn't spend her time in the office talking about the latest app or gadget her husband has developed.

"Corteck?" I parrot back, mimicking her tone.

"Clive is planning a gala dinner and silent auction." Her entire face beams. "It's to raise funds for organ donation. It's not for months, but he wanted me to ask if you'd be interested. It's for charity, but he'll pay you."

I'm tempted to tell her I'll pitch in for free, but I have rent to pay and a health insurance premium to cover. I need the money and knowing what I do about Clive Parker, I sense he'll be generous. If I play my cards right, and the numbers line up, I can donate a portion back to the cause. "You know I'll do it, Lilly. Tell him to call me."

"Why don't you just come over for dinner one night next week?" She skims her fingers over the screen of her smartphone. "We can do Wednesday or Thursday night. Maybe you can bring Landon."

I know the last remark is meant to pull a laugh from me, but it doesn't. It's not that Lilly's comment isn't playful and teasing. It's that I have no idea whether I'll ever see the man again, and for some reason, that makes me feel a tinge of regret.





Chapter 6


"We're opening a Liore location in Los Angeles in three months." Gabriel buttons his suit jacket as he turns to look at me. He's standing in front of a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook lower Manhattan. He's imposing and when he called me directly earlier to ask me to stop by his office, I had pushed my excitement aside and had handled the conversation like the professional I want to be.

Now, less than an hour later, I can almost feel another check in my hands. He's about to ask me to handle the launch of that boutique.

"That's exciting," I offer merely out of respect. It matters little to me where the next Liore store opens. What does matter is that I become the only person Gabriel Foster considers when he's thinking of planning an event that will draw the right balance of publicity and potential customers.

"I want you to put together a proposal for a grand opening event." He nods towards where I'm seated on a black leather sofa. "The fashion show last week was pure genius, Tess. Some of the footage the guests captured on their smartphones has gone viral. I want something just as unique for Los Angeles."

I should be intimidated by that, but I'm not. I've been bouncing ideas around in my own mind since I left the warehouse after the show that night. I anticipated being asked to handle the launch of the next boutique opening which means I'm already past the pre-planning stage. I want to run my idea of a portable pop-up lingerie shop past him.

The idea is simple, yet the impact would be far-reaching. If we rent an enclosed truck and turn it into a mobile Liore pop-up boutique, we can drive a level of interest that can't be paralleled with a simple launch party complete with champagne and expensive canapés. We drive the truck through the streets of Los Angeles, stopping at a different location twice a day for the entire week preceding the official opening of the store. The impact that would have on social media would be vast. The women, and men, visiting the portable boutique would be encouraged to take pictures and post them online.