The Randy Romance Novelist(57)
Helena didn’t end up signing my armpit, but they both did sign the sanitary napkin I toted around with me. We talked about my book briefly and the romantic comedy genre, what books I should read, and the authors I should get to know better. They encouraged me to start thinking about a website and a Facebook page, as well as how to go about spreading the news about my book. I stood there mesmerized, trying to soak up every little fact they gave me.
We talked for a good ten minutes before Tara Sivec and Katherine Stevens came running up behind them, interrupting our conversation in the most perfect way possible. Slapping both their asses, Tara said, “What’s up, sluts? I’ve got a bottle of vodka with Helena’s beaver wrapped around it calling our names. I say we put on my meerkat suit, Katherine has her sloth pants on, and we scare people in the hallways. You in? Jimmy’s got the camera all ready.”
Debra shook her head and laughed. “Why not? It will make a great post for the Backdoor Comedy Club. Rosie, it was a pleasure meeting you. Good luck, and if you need anything, don’t be afraid to email me.”
We said our good byes and I watched in awe as they walked away. I wondered if one day, I would be able to be the one whose ass Tara slapped.
One could only hope.
Chapter Thirteen
Pillow Beating Beelzebub
HENRY
Rosie: Are you coming home soon? You were going to help me with these bachelorette party bags.
I was letting her down left and right. Every chance she gave me, I wasn’t there to help. I felt like the biggest ass ever, but I was so close to closing in on this account, I kept working late night after late night to guarantee a run at the position.
This campaign hadn’t been the easiest one to work on, especially since Derk predicted Rosie was pregnant. It was so obvious to me now, all her emotions, her erratic behavior, they all made sense. It was like the puzzle pieces of a crazy person finally came together. Now I just needed to secure this job so I could provide for the three of us.
Since I had to create a campaign for condoms—ones that failed me—I decided not to focus on their ability to be a solid form of birth control, but instead, focused on their “luxury.” I developed two separate campaigns, one to cater toward men and one toward women. They were vastly different, but had the same effect.
With the men, I focused on a slogan, “The Man, The Legacy.” I hated everything about it; it read like an ad for a massive tool bag. It actually was the slogan for Freddy, who inspired it all for me, but Eric and, so far, the board loved it. I just had to fine-tune my campaign geared toward women. I could have gone the route of talking about the different kinds of ribbing on each condom or special lubricants, but I didn’t. Instead, I focused on the “quality” (snorts) and how each woman only deserved the best. No vagina should settle for less.
Talking to the design team, I had them create the condom brand into a luxury item by developing mock-ups using black, gold, and silver. The font I chose screamed exuberance and the images we used all revolved around luxurious pillows and silk.
After reviewing the mock-ups, I knew this was going to be a winner, no doubt about it. I just had to hang on a few more days.
Luckily, Freddy was able to get a scoop on what Tasha had been working on. I gave the guy a high five about lifting over three hundred pounds, and he was so excited he offered to scope out the competition by using his “sex appeal.” I didn’t oppose, and for some odd reason, it worked. Freddy was able to woo Tasha enough to check out what she had been working on. She was doing a joint campaign based around lovemaking. It was cute and fresh, but it wasn’t Legacy.
“You ready for the party tomorrow? For the grand reveal of both campaigns?” Eric asked, as I started to gather my phone and wallet so I could take off.
“I am. Mock-ups are done and being held by the design team. I feel really confident.”
“Good,” Eric nodded. He leaned up against my cube with his arms crossed. “You’ve been putting in a lot of time at the office lately. Is everything okay at home?”
He was staring at the picture I had of Rosie on my desk. I glanced at it and inwardly smiled. She was my entire life, her and the little one growing inside of her.
“Everything is great. Just wanted to make sure I nailed this campaign. I want this job so damn bad.”
“You deserve it. You’ve really shown some impressive work, not just on rebranding, but on your marketing plan and attacking social media. I’m impressed, Henry. I truly am.”
“Thanks, Eric.” I stood from my chair and grabbed my bag. “If you will excuse me for the night, I have a girlfriend to get home to.”
Sweeping his arm out for me leave, he said, “Enjoy. I’ll see you tomorrow for the party. You’re bringing Rosie?”
“Most definitely, but if you don’t mind, can we keep this whole possible promotion to ourselves? I don’t want her getting excited in case it doesn’t work out.”
“Not a problem.”
We shook hands, which was odd because we never really did that, and then I took off toward the elevator. It was seven already, and I knew Rosie was freaking out about the bachelorette party and being ready for it. I called the other day to cash in a favor on a local bar I knew would be perfect for the party and was able to book a private room for the girls. Rosie was grateful. From the list Delaney had, I knew Rosie was still behind, but I had confidence she would be able to take care of everything.