Page 8 of Book Club Confidential

Nina sipped from the spout on her cup. “No worries. I had my teeth whitened after work, and I’m trying to avoid staining them again. The effort never lasts, but let the record show I asked.” She looked at the ceiling, as if making a case with some higher power. The god of white teeth.

Tessa forced the tension from her features and led the way to the small conference room. Tomorrow, she’d get straws and leave extras in her bag or desk. “Any chance you want to go over some pitch ideas for the Lilacs and Lace account?”

Nina sipped her drink with a satisfied sigh. “Let me log in and drop all this stuff off at my desk. I’ll meet you back here.”

Tessa removed a laminated page from her bag and taped it to the door.

Occupied

She took a seat and opened her laptop, then navigated to the file with all her unvetted brainstormed concepts to see if anything would work for the new account. She’d suspected Peyton of accessing the file once, after a series of his pitches sounded a little too much like her ideas. She’d moved the file off the company network after that and saved it to her laptop. She renamed the folder Menstrual Cycle Tracker in an act of due diligence.

She kept her Lilacs and Lace file on her computer as well. Everything about the woman-owned and -operated company appealed to her. Their female hygiene products were chemical free. No aluminum or other nonsense known to cause breast and cervical cancers in their deodorants, detergents, soaps, or organic cotton tampons. Their menstrual cups and personal massage devices were made of top-quality medical-grade silicone. Health for the consumer was their number-one goal, followed closely by the best interest of the environment and global community.

The opportunity to work with Lilacs and Lace would boost her career to new heights and make all the long hours and missed social events worth it.

Nina returned with a notebook, pen, and tablet. Beyond the glass conference-room walls, other employees came into view, filling cubicles and desks, starting their workdays and raising the office volume.

Tessa nudged the door shut with her foot. “What do you have?”

“Color palette ideas,” Nina said. “Some refreshed designs for packaging and a few new looks for the company logo. I’d like to create a strong brand for this account. Something consumers can easily recognize from afar. Something as unique and powerful as L and L itself.”

“That gives me goose bumps,” Tessa said. “Big yes to all of that.”

“Good. I really want this.”

Tessa met Nina’s determined eyes with a conspiratorial grin. “Me too.”

Nina opened her portfolio and turned her tablet to face Tessa. “I think we need a neutral backdrop. Nothing overtly pink or otherwise culturally gendered. Then, we’ll use a second-tier color scheme to tell the story.”

Tessa arched an eyebrow and looked closely at the palette before her, artistically arranged in shades of cream through black. “Interesting.”

“If we start with something light and move through the spread of colors, blending each shade into the next, like music notes, all the way from lightest white to deepest black, we show the beauty and harmony of humanity. Every shade, hue, and tone to match every consumer.”

Tessa’s lips parted. “I’m hearing a piano keyboard playing something strong and powerful.” She sat back, mind whirring. “L and L started with a makeup and skin-care line for this exact reason.” They wanted shades for everyone and prided themselves on having products for every skin type, tone, and color. The founders, Leah Chen and Amara Diallo, based the whole company concept on inclusion. “This is perfect.”

Nina smiled. “Thank God. I keep getting older, and everyone else keeps looking younger. Every new storyboard I create feels like a test to see if I’ve officially gone over the hill.”

Tessa snorted. “You are far too smart for that.”

“Try convincing my kids.”

Tessa freed her iced coffee from the tray and took the first precious sip. She cherished this moment and put it off as long as she could every morning.

Nina chuckled softly as she watched her drink. “You and that coffee.”

“Every sip after this one will pale in comparison. I can’t explain it. It’s just true.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t make the rules,” Tessa said. She set the cup on the table and refocused on the work at hand. “What’s this?”

“But wait—there’s more,” Nina said. A video centered on the screen of her tablet. “This is the secondary palette. We use all the other colors of the rainbow to accentuate and enhance the first set. The beauty of inclusion is important and creates a great groundwork, but it’s the bare minimum, right?”

Tessa nodded, rubbing goose bumps from her arms. She could already imagine the L and L founders smiling at the presentation coming together before her eyes.

“I think it’s equally important,” Nina went on. “More so really—” she amended. “To celebrate our differences.” She tapped her screen, nudging the video into motion. A medley of music notes lifted from her initial color palette in a twisting wave of iridescence. Bits of songs across genres and generations poured through the speakers, seamlessly moving one into another. Every color of the rainbow seemed to shimmer and pulse song to song.

“It’s abstract,” Nina said. “I think in color and sound. You’re the wordsmith and story creator, but I thought this might provide inspiration.”