Page 237 of Manhattan Bossholes

“That’s the one,” I said.

Natasha’s smile widened. “I really enjoyed making that piece. I’m glad it makes you happy.”

“Natasha and I were talking about some other pieces she could make for you.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Nana Dee said. “I’ve been meaning to redecorate the library.”

Natasha hummed. “I’m seeing some art nouveau bookshelves in your future. Maybe something to match your desk.”

Nana Dee beamed. “I’d love that. Do you source your materials locally?”

“As much as I can. I always try to make my furniture sustainably, so that means using recycled materials as much as possible, including repurposed wood. The glass will probably be the most difficult to find.”

“There’s quite a movement lately toward sustainable production,” Nana Dee agreed.

“It was that A-list Hollywood guy who started posting about all the furniture he was making on Snug,” I grumbled, unable to fully hide my annoyance. I glanced at Natasha. “You know the one.”

She nodded. “Kyle Landing.”

“Yes, with the hair. Puts his dogs in all his videos.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh that put my teeth on edge. “I follow his Snug and Instagram accounts. He posts different videos on each, you know.”

“He definitely knows how to market his products,” Dee said. “And how to reach this sustainability crowd.”

A crowd that had grown massively, thanks to the actor’s star power making sustainability the hot trend. Now all the big companies, Saunders Furniture included, were scrambling to catch up. We’d had more meetings about it lately than I could count. I wasn’t about to leave money on the table by leaving a sizable new market untapped—but that didn’t mean I had the right people in place yet to move anything forward.

“I think it’s great,” Natasha said. “He’s bringing a lot of visibility to the issue.”

“And a lot of pressure to the market,” I pointed out. “Touting sustainability works fine when you’re making one-off pieces, like him or you. But it’s a lot harder for a company like ours that has to deliver at a much higher volume.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Natasha challenged.

“Do you have any idea how many pieces we make a year? What, do you think we have the time to go out and find recycled wood for every one?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. But just because you’re a large company doesn’t mean you can’t make significant changes to your design and production processes to reduce waste.”

I raised a brow. “As CEO, I think I know⁠—”

“Do you?” she challenged. “Have you considered offering natural fibers in all the upholstery materials? Or getting your wood from tree farms rather than from forests?”

“Tree farms are far more expensive.”

She waved off my concern. “You’re in a luxury business. It’s not like anyone comes to Saunders Furniture looking for a bargain. They come looking for quality. They already pay a premium for that—and I have no doubt they’d be fine with paying even more for a product they can feel good about. Show off to their friends. Brag about on social media.”

“Like Kyle,” I said with a grimace.

“Why not?” Natasha shot back. “If it’s working for him, why not make it work for you too?”

Nana Dee laughed, delighted. I had to fight to keep from jumping. I’d been so wrapped up in my debate with Natasha I’d…kind of forgotten she was there. “Oh, sweetheart—you’re just perfect,” Dee said, reaching out to pat Natasha’s hand. “You’re exactly what Trent needs. And I’d say you’re what Saunders Furniture needs too.”

“Wh-what?” Natasha asked, looking thrown.

“I’m talking about Trent hiring you, of course,” she said, throwing a wink my way. “You’re just what he’s been looking for to sort out the new product line.”

What a horrible thought. I tried not to shudder. Work with Natasha?

“Oh!” Natasha said. “No, that wouldn’t be good for either of⁠—”