A few hours later, with U2 blaring in the background, Sinclairs frustration had translated itself into a second coat on most of one wall. She was busy at one corner of the ceiling when there was a banging on the door.
She climbed down the ladder and set her brush on the edge of the paint tray.
The banging came again.
Im coming, she called. She wiped off her hands, then pulled open the door.
It was Hunter, and he was carrying a large shopping bag.
Ive been buzzing you downstairs for ten minutes. He marched across the room and turned down the music. Thank goodness for the lady on the first floor walking her dog.
I was busy, said Sinclair.
Hunter dropped the bag onto the plastic-covered floor. What happened?
I decided I should spend the day painting my living room.
I talked to Amber.
Sinclair shrugged, picking up her paintbrush, and mounting the ladder. What did she tell you?
That you were painting your living room instead of working.
See that? she gestured to the brushes, paint cans and tarps. All evidence points to exactly the same thing. I am, in fact, painting my living room.
She also told me you havent taken a day off in eight years.
Sinclair dipped the brush in the can on the ladder and stroked along the top of the wall. Meaning Im due.
Meaning youre upset.
A girl cant get upset?
He crossed his arms over his chest. What happened?
Nothing much. The important thing now was to get the painting done, then go in tomorrow and see if her plan had worked.
Do I have to come up there and get you?
She laughed, dabbing the brush hard against the masking tape in the corner. Now that would be interesting.
Quit messing around, Sinclair.
She sighed in defeat. Being micromanaged was embarrassing. You want to know? she asked.
Yes, said Hunter. I want to know.
Roger gave Chantal my Valentines Day ball files. She needed to review them because, apparently, weve all recognized her talents.
We have?
Sinclair dipped the brush again. Therefore, shes ready to be the PR assistant. No. Wait. I think shes ready to be the PR manager.
What exactly did Roger say?
Not much. He just gave her the files. He seems hell-bent on involving her in every aspect of my job.
Oh.
There was something in Hunters tone.
Sinclair stopped painting and looked down. What?
He took a breath then paused.
What? she repeated.
Theres something we should discuss.
You know whats going on?
Maybe.
Sinclair took a step down the ladder. Hunter?
He dropped his arms to his sides. I have a theory. Its only a theory.
She climbed the rest of the way down. What is it?
Hunter took the brush from her hand, setting it on the paint tray just before it dripped on the floor. Chantal asked if you used the mousse.
He lifted the shopping bag. I think that might be what Rogers picking up on. Chantals, well, pizzazz.
A sick feeling slid into Sinclairs stomach.
Roger thought Chantal knew better than Sinclair?
Hunter thought Chantal knew better than Sinclair?
You have to admit, Hunter continued. Shes the demographic Luscious Lavender is targeting.
You sure you want to keep on talking?
We both know shes not you. We both know youre smart and talented and hard-working.
Well, thank you for that.
He opened the bag to reveal the full gamut of Luscious Lavender products. I think you should try these out. See what you think, maybe-
Right. Because all my problems will be solved by a good shampoo and mousse. Her problem wasnt a bad hair day. It was the fact that Roger, and maybe Hunter, too, preferred beauty over brains.
Hunter attempted a grin. Dont forget waxing.
She reached down for the paintbrush. Im forgetting all of it.
Will you at least hear me out?
No. Without thinking she waved the brush for emphasis, and paint splattered on the front of his suit.
Her eyes went wide in horror. Oh, Im so sorry, she quickly blurted out.
Forget it.
But I ruined your suit. She could only imagine how much it had cost.
I said to forget it.
How was she supposed to hang on to her moral outrage when he was being a gentleman?
Its more than just a good shampoo, he said. Its about relating to your customers. Having your customers relate to you.
She started up the ladder.
They relate to Chantal in a particular way, he said. They see her look as an idealized version of themselves. These are people that put great stock in the value of beauty products to their lives, and they want to know that you put great stock in them, as well.
Youre suggesting I could replace an MBA and eight years of experience with a good makeover?
What kind of a man would think that?
Yes, he said.
She stopped. She couldnt believe hed actually said it out loud.
But, he continued. Im also suggesting youll blow the competition out of the water when you have both.
You think Chantal is my competition?
I think Roger thinks shes your competition. I think you could do a makeover with your eyes closed. And I think shes only a threat to you if you let her be a threat to you.
So Im choosing to have this happen?
All shed ever done was her job. Shed shown up early every day for eight years. Shed written speeches and press releases, planned events, supported her coworkers, solved problems and taken the message of Lush Beauty far and wide. If her performance evaluations were anything to go by, shed been more than successful in her role as PR manager.
Youre choosing not to fight it, said Hunter.
I shouldnt have to fight it. When had hard work and success stopped being enough?
Too bad. So sad. Are you going to let her win? He paused. Do you want your career path to end?
Dont be ridiculous. She loved her job.
Im the one being ridiculous? Chantals nipping at your heels, and Im the one being ridiculous?
Why do you care?
There were a few seconds of silence. Why do you think I care?
Sinclair didnt have an answer for that, so she finished climbing the ladder.
Im not saying its right, he spoke below her. Im saying thats the business youre in. And youre the PR manager. And, yes, Im sorry, but it matters. And, as for why I care.
He stopped talking, and she held her breath.
I like you? I slept with you? Youre an asset to Lush Beauty? Youre family? Take your pick. But Im about done fighting, Sinclair. If you dont want my help, Im out of here.
She dipped her paintbrush, feeling hollow and exhausted. Hunters words pulsed in her ears, while paint dribbles dried on her hands. She pretended to focus on the painting while she waited for the door to slam behind him.
Emotion stung her eyes.
She didnt mean to fight with him.
It wasnt his fault that Chantal was prancing around the city like a poster child for Luscious Lavender. It wasnt his fault that Roger was interfering in her management of the PR department. And what did Sinclair want from Hunter, anyway? For him to intervene with Roger?
Not.
She could take care of her own professional life.
Sort of. Maybe.
Because a tiny, little voice inside her told her some of what Hunter said made sense.
She focused on the paint, stroking it into the corner, listening for his footfalls, for the door slamming, for him walking out of her life.
Im sorry, his unexpected words came from behind and below her. I should have approached that differently.
She stopped midstroke. Shocked, relieved and embarrassed all at the same time. She set down the brush.
No, she spoke to the wall. Im the one whos sorry.
Silence.
Will you come down then?
She gave a shaky nod. She couldnt bring herself to look at him as she started down the ladder. Maybe all of what he said made sense. Maybe shed been hasty in dismissing a makeover. After all, what could it hurt to try?
What exactly was the principle she was standing on? Shed always wanted the world to take her seriously. She hadnt wanted a free ride because of looks and glamour. But did she want to put herself at a disadvatange?
I suppose, she said as her foot touched the floor and she turned toward him. It wouldnt kill me to try the shampoo.
I suppose, she said as her foot touched the floor and she turned toward him. It wouldnt kill me to try the shampoo.
That a girl. His voice was full of approval.
Its just that I never wanted to cheat, she tried to explain. I never wanted to wonder if a promotion or a pay raise, or even peoples reactions to me were because of my looks.
Youre not cheating. Youre leveling the playing field. Besides, being beautiful has nothing to do with makeup and mousse. He shrugged out of the ruined jacket and tossed it on the floor. He whipped off his tie. Youre beautiful, Sinclair. And theres not a damn thing you can do about it.
Her heartbeat thickened in her chest, wondering what would come off next.
But he rolled up his sleeves. Okay, lets get to work.
That threw her. Were going to the office?
Were painting your walls.
You want to spend the afternoon here?
You bet.
By late afternoon, Sinclairs arms were about to fall off. Her shoulders ached, and she was getting a headache from the paint fumes. Her latest can was empty, so she climbed down the ladder to replace it.
Hunter appeared, taking the can from her hands.
Youre done, he said.
Theres another whole wall.
He pointed across the room. See that bag over there? Full of bath oil, shampoo and gel?
Uh-huh.
I want you to take it into the bathroom and run a very hot, very deep bath. In fact- he set down the paint can and propped up his roller -Ill do it for you.
Before she could protest, he picked up the shopping bag and marched into the bathroom.
She heard the fan go on and the water gush from the faucet. She knew any self-respecting woman would fight against his high-handed behavior. But, honestly, she was just too tired.
After a few minutes, he returned to the living room. He didnt talk, just unplugged her CD player and gathered up the two compact speakers. He popped out U2 and replaced it with Norah Jones.
Then he was back to the bathroom.
Curiosity finally got the better of her, and she wandered in to find her tub full of steaming, foamy water, and three cinnamon-scented candles flickering at the base of the tub. Theyd been a Christmas gift from somebody at the office. But shed never used them.
I never have baths, she admitted.
Why not?
Showers are more efficient.
But baths are more fun.
You have baths, do you? she couldnt help but tease.
He faced her in the tiny room. Guys dont take baths. They want girls to take them. It makes them all soft and warm, and in the mood to get beautiful.