“Can I answer the original question, please?”
“If you can refrain from licking, yes.”
“All but the big award is a golden briefcase.”
“And the big one?” Carter asked as he nodded at my face.
“A Golden Storyboard.” I held my sigh back as I rushed to share the rest of the picture that had been playing itself out in my head for weeks. “It’s the last award of the evening. The nominees are read, just like in all the categories, but as the winner walks on to the stage, a red velvet curtain opens up to reveal a spiral staircase. After the winner is handed the award, he or she gets to walk up the spiral stairs to a special platform. When they reach the top, another velvet curtain opens to reveal a screen. And as the winner and the audience watch, his or her winning campaign is played for all to see.”
Carter’s answering laugh snapped me back into the moment.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re glowing again.”
I plucked the lipstick from Carter’s hand and set it on the table. “If I am, it’s because I can’t believe I’m nominated for that award. Last year, when Cassie Turner won for the Ross Jackson Agency, I literally had tears running down my face I was so happy for her—and I really only know her by name. And the year before that, when another one of the Ross Jackson crew won, I was so taken by all the pageantry of the award as the newbie that I was, my boss actually threw an elbow when it was time to clap.”
“I take it this Ross Jackson agency is a powerhouse with two wins in two years?”
“Make it five wins in the past five years, and yeah, they’re a powerhouse—a powerhouse who was nominated in just about every other category this year except Best Overall. And that’s despite the work Cassie Turner did again this year—for Remy Electronics.”
Carter looked past me for a moment in thought. “Wait. I remember that ad. I’m not an electronics guy and I was intrigued.”
“I know. Crazy, right?” I let loose an honest to goodness squeal that made Carter jump just a little. “I’m living my dream. I have my own agency, I have real paying clients, I’m a car owner for the first time in almost thirty years, and I’m nominated for the biggest award in the industry! I-I can’t even begin to tell you what an honor it is to have my name alongside the likes of Ben Gibbens, Lexa Smyth, and Deidre Ryan!”
“And I’d be willing to bet they consider it a dream-come-true to have their name alongside yours, Sunshine.”
I didn’t mean to laugh, I really didn’t. But I couldn’t help it. “I doubt that. I’ve only been in this business—in this town, in fact—for a few years. Ben and Deidre both interned here during their college days and grew their careers here.”
“You’re growing your career here, too,” Carter argued like the true and loyal friend he is.
“Growing, yes. But they’ve grown it.”
“And the other one? With the trendy name?”
“Lexa?” At his nod, I picked up the brush that had finally been retired from my face and twirled it between my fingers. “I’m not really sure how she got a nomination other than the fact that she’s now working for the Callahan Agency, but there are probably some who are wondering how I got nominated, too, so…”
He shook his finger at me. “Stop that. Stop that right now.”
“Sorry.” I tossed the brush back onto the table and met Carter’s disapproving eyes. “Momentary self-esteem setback. I’m over it. I promise.”
“Good.” Carter puckered his own lips in demonstration and then, when I mimicked to his satisfaction, he moved in for what I hoped was one final swipe. “If all goes well, we’ll have two winners to celebrate before the night is over.”
It was hard not to smile as his words redirected my thoughts to Mary Fran Wazoli’s sixteen-year-old son, Sam. Like me with advertising, Sam’s passion for photography had been born before he was ten years old. And while many might have considered me crazy for employing a teenager to shoot my agency’s stills, I never had any doubt. The fact that his work was good enough to earn him a nomination alongside professionals two and three times his age just backed up what I’d known all along.
My squeal was back. Only this time, it came complete with an echo—Carter’s.
“Oh, Sunshine…” He capped the lipstick, tossed it into his bag of tricks, and clapped his hands once. “You could be on a runway right now.”
I parted my freshly colored lips in anticipation of the self-deprecating remarks that were poised to announce themselves like the trusty soldiers they were, but, in the end, I swallowed them back. After all, a promise was a promise, wasn’t it?
Instead, I took a deep breath, hooked my thumb over my smock-clad shoulder, and smiled up at my best friend. “May I?”
He started to turn me, but stopped before I’d made it more than an inch or two.
“Now what?” I asked.
Reaching behind my neck, he unsnapped the smock and folded it against his chest. “There. Now you can look.”
I completed my turn until I was face to face with the floor length mirror propped against the back wall of Carter’s living room. My first glimpse sucked the breath from my lungs.
Whoa!
“That’s…me?”
“It sure is.”
“But—”
“The makeup may be me, but the gorgeous is all you. Always has been, Sunshine. Now go break a leg.”
~Chapter Two~
On some level, I suppose I was aware of my colleagues milling about the Regency Hotel’s grand ballroom, shaking hands, patting backs, and trying not to talk shop while waiting for the award show to begin. But really, at that moment, all I could truly see were the people seated around me at my table—loved ones who were there to support me in what might very well be the biggest night of my life, career wise.
Seated to my immediate left was JoAnna Kincaid, my secretary (aka lifesaver) at Tobias Ad Agency. Without her doing what she did on a daily basis, Carter wouldn’t have had any reason to transform me into the princess Andy hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off since he picked me up at my apartment thirty minutes earlier. To Andy’s right was my Grandpa Stu, beaming back at me like the proud grandfather he was. I returned his smile while trying not to shudder at the woman seated next to him.
Truth be told, Ms. Rapple wasn’t my first (or even my bazillionth) choice for a spot at my table (or anywhere in the ballroom, for that matter), but inviting her had made my grandfather happy. And since Mary Fran’s new boyfriend, Drew, was away on business and couldn’t attend, my grandfather was quick to suggest Rapple for that seat.…
Mary Fran, in turn, was so beside herself with pride for Sam and his nomination, she wouldn’t have noticed Ms. Rapple if the ornery little shrew was bedded down on her lap.
“Have
