One Night Standards (18 page)

Mark stared at her. “You did?”

“Well, Lily did,” she amended. “She saw Ms. Jones going into your hotel room in San Francisco. I was somewhat surprised when Lily reported it to me, but I wasn't completely shocked. The chemistry between you two is rather obvious…if you're observant.”

He got the feeling nothing made it past Mrs. Marion. “It didn't have any part in our competition,” he pointed out, feeling like a broken record. How many times would he have to defend them?

If you do something stupid, you're going to have to pay the consequences.

“Obviously it didn't,” Mrs. Marion agreed. “Otherwise, you never would have suggested knocking off her products. That power play impressed me, and really made me consider you and Trimera. Although I'm surprised Sophie didn't try to punch you right there!”

Mark winced. He hadn't been proud of that. The fact that Mrs. Marion was proud of his maneuver did nothing to improve the situation.

“But now—obviously you're feeling guilty,” Mrs. Marion continued. “And that doesn't impress me, Mark. If you're servicing this account, I need to know that you'll be able to handle it. Emotions are wonderful things, and I'm not saying you have to be an automaton. But business is business.”

“This is business,” Mark said firmly. “You want the best product for the best deal. Trimera wants the account, and Diva Nation needs the money. It's completely win-win.”

“And Sophie has nothing to do with it?” she prompted.

Mark grimaced. “I won't try to lie and say she wasn't a factor,” Mark said. “But if it weren't to our advantage, I wouldn't pursue it…even if it meant Diva Nation were out in the cold.”

“Would she do the same thing, I wonder?”

“I'm sure she would,” Mark said, even as he wondered about the statement. If she knew it would ruin his chances, would she be as business-minded? He wanted to say yes, but he wasn't sure. “She understands it's just business, and her family is important to her.”

“Would you blame her, if the situation were reversed?”

“Of course not.” Mark smiled, feeling more confident. He and Sophie had discussed that much, at least.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.” Mrs. Marion stood. “Well, then. Talk to your company, and I'll approach Diva Nation for one more meeting. It will be interesting to see how this all plays out.”

“I'm sure it will work out beautifully,” Mark said, shaking her hand.

“You know,” Mrs. Marion said, “if Trimera doesn't go for it, maybe I could find a place for you here, in my organization. I'm always looking for talent that's hungry and creative.” She winked. “And good-looking doesn't hurt.”

She lingered in her handshake. It wasn't sexual, necessarily, but it did feel predatory. He knew how Mrs. Marion did business. He knew it could also be a possibly great opportunity. Nonetheless, he also knew that she wasn't the sort of person he wanted to work for directly.

“I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Marion,” he said as politely as possible. “I'll have to see what happens.”

“You do that,” she said, still smiling.

Mark headed back to the Trimera office. Now, he had to make good on his promise…and make sure that everything turned out just the way he'd planned it.

“W
HAT ARE WE DOING HERE
?” Sophie's mother whispered. “I thought we'd lost the account.”

Sophie sat in a swanky restaurant in New York, at a large table. She hadn't revealed the details of her conversation with Mrs. Marion. She had hoped to convince the woman that Diva Nation was worth the effort, but she also knew that Mrs. Marion was, in a way, similar to her mother—more interested in cold, hard facts and scientific precision than touchy-feely issues. So Sophie had come up with a solution that would give her mother some breathing room, or so she thought. Mrs. Marion was intrigued. This, apparently, was the result.

She hadn't been able to talk to Mark, partially because she wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't trying to cut him out. She just couldn't leave her fate completely in his hands. It would put too much pressure on both of them. Besides, if this worked out, he'd probably still get the promotion, her mother would keep the house, and Sophie would be what she wanted to be more than anything in the world, these days. Completely free to make her own choices.

Please, please let this work!

“So many seats,” her mother said, taking a nervous sip of her water. “Who are we expecting?”

“I don't know,” Sophie admitted. “Mrs. Marion only told me to reserve a table for seven.”

She wondered absently if Mrs. Marion would have the partnership papers with her. It was too soon, and Sophie knew that her mother was going to have to be slowly coaxed into the idea. But once she saw the numbers, Sophie felt sure that her mother would see that selling Diva Nation outright to Marion & Co. was the best and smartest option. It was just business.

She smirked bitterly.
Business was business.
At this rate, she could've sewn a needlepoint sampler that said the same. It was like her daily mantra.

Mrs. Marion walked up, Lily at her side as always. “It's so nice to see you again,” she said in her smooth voice, sounding very pleased with herself. “I'm glad you agreed to meet with us.”

“It's our pleasure,” Sophie started, but her mother interrupted.

“It was our understanding that we lost the account,” her mother said, and Sophie winced. “Has something changed?”

Mrs. Marion laughed. “Directness. I like that,” she said easily. “Something has changed, indeed. I think we might be able to negotiate something beneficial after all.”

Sophie felt her heart leap. Glancing at her mother, she saw both surprise and a renewed sense of hope. “I see,” her mother said slowly.

“Unless you don't want the account?”

“Of course we want to work with you,” Sophie assured her.

Mrs. Marion sat down. “I'm still expecting some people,” she said, gesturing to the empty chairs, “but before they get here, I thought we'd lay out all the cards on the table. You like being direct—so do I.”

Sophie felt some of her excitement ebb. Mrs. Marion looked stern.

“You're in financial trouble,” Mrs. Marion said.

Sophie's mouth fell open. Her mother spluttered. “That's not relevant to these discussions—”

“Don't bother denying it,” Mrs. Marion interrupted. “And it is relevant. I like to know who I'm working with. It was going to be enough of a problem dealing with a small company with vendor supply issues. But one on the brink of financial dissolution—well, that has
problem
written all over it.”

Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. “We would be in the clear,” she said, “if we got the Marion & Co. account.”

“Barely,” Mrs. Marion replied. “You'd still be struggling for that initial year, though. You need more than my account. You need an influx of capital, to keep yourselves going. And I don't want to work with a company that's struggling when it comes to something this prominent.”

Sophie felt confused. Mrs. Marion was basically saying that there wasn't any way she'd work with Diva Nation…which wasn't what she'd said on the phone. What had changed between then and now?

“So why did you want to meet with us?” Sophie said, echoing her mother's question.

“Because I want to see if you understand the situation you're in,” Mrs. Marion said sharply. “I decided to work with Trimera because they gave me concessions. You might not have the leverage—but you've got something I want. How badly do you want to get out of the hole you're in?”

Sophie turned to her mother, feeling flabbergasted. Of all the ways this meeting was going to run, she hadn't anticipated this turn of events at all. “Mom?” she asked softly. “It's your company. How badly do we want the account?”

Her mother's eyes lit with determination. “Mrs. Marion,” she replied, her voice calm and proud, “I'll do almost anything to get this account. I believe in my company and our products. If you worked with us, I can promise that the results would be extraordinary.”

“Ah, but what are you willing to give up?”

Sophie frowned. “What, exactly, are you asking for, Mrs. Marion?”

Before Mrs. Marion could answer, Sophie spied Mark, his boss Simone, and the man who had been present at the New York meeting—Roger, she believed his name was. They were making their way to the table. Sophie saw her mother tense and a look of hatred cross her face. “What are they doing here?” her mother demanded.

“This involves Trimera, as well,” Mrs. Marion said mildly. “Mark, I'm glad you could make it.”

Mark smiled at Sophie, and Sophie felt relief wash over her like a warm bath. He looked happy—confident. She noticed that Simone and Roger looked less happy. What had he pulled off?

She suddenly felt as if she'd been dumped into a frozen lake. She hadn't told him everything. Obviously, he'd been holding out on her, as well.

“Mrs. Jones,” Mark said, holding his hand out to Sophie's mom cordially. She stared at it for a second, then shook it, disdain obvious on her face. She shot a quick glare at Sophie. “I suppose you're wondering what we're doing here.”

“I haven't told them the deal,” Mrs. Marion said, and damned if that amused grin of hers didn't pop back up. Sophie felt the creep of unease filter through her relief. “Since it was your idea, Mark, I thought I'd let you present it.”

Sophie stared, totally shocked.
Mark's idea?

“It's been patently obvious that Diva Nation's products were far better than anything Trimera had come up with,” Mark said, earning a sour look from his boss. “And there was no way we could replicate the products with the same results. You
are
a cosmetics genius, Mrs. Jones.”

Sophie's mom nodded in acceptance of the compliment. Sophie could tell she was a little mollified, even if she still didn't trust Mark.

“And I'm sure you realize that there's no way that your company could compete financially with Trimera,” Mark continued. “That was how we won the account—with concessions and perks.”

“That was the only way you could win,” Sophie's mother interjected darkly.

“Mom,” Sophie warned. “I'm sorry, Mark.”

“So I proposed a compromise,” Mark said. “Diva Nation's products, with Trimera's clout. The best of all possible worlds.”

Sophie stared at him, unsure of where he was going.

“I'm not giving you the formulas,” Sophie's mom said. “If you're going to knock them off, you'll have to figure it out yourselves.”

“No, that's not what I'm saying at all,” Mark said. “I still think that Diva Nation should create its own products. I think that the company should be partnered with Marion & Co, and continue with the work you've started.”

Sophie blinked. “Maybe I'm just slow here,” she said. “But what, exactly, are you proposing?”

Mark's smile was wide. “I'm saying that Trimera will purchase Diva Nation,” he said. “Diva Nation will become a sub-brand, working with Marion & Co. We'll pay fair market value, don't worry, and we'll make sure that you're still involved with the running and operating of the company, since it's your innovation and creativity that's so valuable. We'll partner up. That way, Diva Nation becomes financially stable, Trimera gets a tremendous new brand, and Marion & Co. gets a great deal on a superior product. Everybody comes out ahead.”

Sophie blinked, then almost burst out laughing. He'd thought the same thing she had—selling Diva Nation.
Great minds think alike,
she thought inanely.

“I figured you'd be up for it,” Mrs. Marion said, “since you decided to try selling Diva Nation to me, Sophie.”

Sophie's mother stared at her, as did Mark.

“So now, instead of Marion & Co. buying it, it'd be Trimera. Best of both possible worlds. What do you say?”

“It couldn't be more perfect,” Sophie said softly to her mother. “What do you think?”

Her mother was silent for a long moment. Then she stood up.

“I think,” she said coldly, “that you can all go to hell.”

Sophie's eyebrows jumped up. “Mom?”

“Do you think I'm selling my company to the same jerks that fired me?” She grabbed up her purse, anger making her clumsy and catching the strap on the back of her chair. “Do you actually think I could trust you? Given the first opportunity, you'll drive Diva Nation right into the ground. No, thank you. I am not going to make this deal.”

Mrs. Marion was frowning, as were Roger and Simone. Mark looked stunned.

“Excuse me,” Sophie said. “I'll go talk to her.” She followed her mother, almost running to catch up with her. “Mom, what are you doing?”