about retirement funds, or college funds for the kids, wouldn’t it be nice if they were already loyal to Coastal Bank?”
“But that logo,” the older man complained. “It’s just too modern. I wouldn’t trust a bank with a logo that would be more at home on the front of a video store.”
“We’re certainly not married to that idea,” Max said smoothly.
Jane cleared her throat. “So what you’re looking for is a logo that says, ‘We’re safe, we’re secure, we’ve been around a long time,’ but also something that says, ‘We’re progressive, we’re not stodgy or old-fashioned.’”
Max shot her a warning look, but she studiously avoided looking at him.
“Well, yes, young lady, that’s exactly right.”
“What if we took your current logo and modified it slightly. Keep the type, keep the colors, but clean up that ship and make it more abstract. Give everything a 3-D look.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” the older man said uncertainly.
Jane whipped out her sketchpad, which she brought with her everywhere. Had she foreseen that the client wouldn’t like Max’s concept?
She flipped to a page that already had the beginnings of her concept. When she and Max had discussed this, he had nixed the idea. She added a few lines to the drawing. He couldn’t believe how quickly the logo took shape. Rough still, but easy to visualize the end result.
The bank’s team studied it. They studied it a long time.
Finally the older man looked up. “I like this. You fix this up and put it in the new ads, and I think we can do business. But…that kid with the beard. I don’t want him in my ad.”
“That’s no problem,” Max said. “You can approve the models before we move forward.”
There were handshakes all around. Max agreed to meet with the team again in a week, and he and Jane walked them to the door.
Once the door to the hallway was closed, Max took a deep breath. He waited until he was sure the bank people were safely on the elevator. Then he turned to a beaming Jane.
“What the hell did you think you were doing back there?”
Chapter Eight
Jane’s stomach plummeted. Here she’d been feeling on top of the world, so pleased by the successful outcome of the meeting.
But one sharp word from Max, and she was crushed.
She straightened her spine. “I was saving your bacon, what do you think I was doing?”
“Your instructions were to smile and nod.”
“I smiled and nodded for six years when I was married to Scott. I’ve decided I won’t do that anymore. Are you saying you wish I hadn’t said anything? Because those three people were getting ready to bail. You’d lost them.”
“I hadn’t lost them. Listen, I can persuade anyone to do anything. It’s my gift.”
“So you think the right thing to do was persuade them to go with a logo they didn’t like?”
“That bank needs to step into the twenty-first century.”
“Are you saying my ad doesn’t do that? It’s bold, it’s modern-”
“And I told you yesterday it wouldn’t work.”
“But they like it,” she argued.
“My job isn’t just to land accounts. My job is to create advertising that pulls in business.”
Carol looked on from her desk, obviously fascinated.
Jane pushed up her sleeves. “My logo is going to drive people away? Is that what you’re saying?”
“You might know a lot about art, but you know nothing about marketing.”
“So educate me. What, in your expert opinion, is wrong with my logo?”
“Well, it’s…it’s too much like their old logo.”
Jane took a step back. She walked to the coffeemaker and poured herself some in a foam cup, giving herself time to think. He was her boss, and she was obligated to do what he said. But he was also being pigheaded here.
“I think you don’t like it because you didn’t think of it. You want to be the boy genius behind everything. It’s why you didn’t show Kidz’n’Stuff the sketch I did with my own concept. You want to keep me in my place.”
“Whoa, girl,” Carol said, a cautionary note in her voice.
Max stomped around the reception room. There wasn’t much room to stomp, so he ended up right next to her again. The frond from an overhead Boston fern tickled his hair, and he brushed it away, annoyed. “That is so utterly not true. I believe in teamwork.”
“Then why did you tell me I should just smile and nod during the meeting?”
Carol’s jaw dropped. “Max, you didn’t really say that, did you?”
“Because each person on the team,” Max said steadily, “needs to work to their own strengths.”
“Fine. I’ll stick to my colored pencils and I won’t say a word. But don’t ask me to any more meetings. Do you want me to work up that logo or not?”
“We’re committed to it now.”
“I guess that’s a yes.”
“Work it into the ads. I’ll see if I can find some stock photos of young people without beards. I’ll need it all by the meeting next week.”
“Yes, sir.” She clicked her heels and stalked out of the room. Okay, maybe she’d gone too far. He was the boss. He signed her paychecks. But she couldn’t sit by and let that account slip out the door.
She wanted a career that allowed her to use her brain as well as her creativity. She’d thought Max valued her opinions. But apparently she’d been wrong.
Maybe she would get to work on that portfolio for the agent. She would need the portrait thing to fall back on when Max fired her.
“THAT WASN’T PRETTY,” Carol said, clearly amused.
“Don’t start on me. You didn’t see it-she took over the whole damn meeting.”
“And that wounds your male ego.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…”
“You landed the account. Aren’t you happy about that?”
“Sure, but now I have to deliver results. I’m not sure I can.”
“Because…why, exactly?”
He didn’t know. Jane’s logo was fine. More than fine, it was good. She had sensed exactly what the client wanted, and she’d delivered it in a way that should have made everyone happy.
So why wasn’t he happy? Was it simply because they’d liked Jane’s idea better than his? Was he that shallow?
“I’m going to lunch.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe while I’m gone you could…unruffle some feathers?”
“I can try, but she was pretty steamed.”
“Just don’t let her quit, okay? I need her.”
And he wanted her, worse than ever.
He thought about heading to Old Salt’s for a burger. But instead he called Reece. “Want me to bring over some takeout?”
“Be still my heart. Sara has me eating so much salad and baked chicken it’s coming out my ears. I’d kill for a greasy burger and fries.”
“I’ll get us chicken sandwiches.” He wasn’t going to risk Sara’s wrath. Reece had been on the fast track to a heart attack before Sara had gotten hold of him, and Max wasn’t going to be an enabler. He could probably stand to improve his diet, too, since it was
