“She sure is. Dalia here brought D Sneakers back to life, and she gave River Ten an increase in their sales by twenty-three percent last week just from her advertising design. She knows what works, I can tell you that much.”
Sandy makes a noise. It's soft and nasally. No one else hears it, but I hear it clear as day. It's an audible eye roll, coming out from the back of her throat. She does it all the time, has since we were kids.
I dart my eyes to hers, letting her know she needs to cut the shit. This is not the time for her to get snotty and rude. She obviously doesn't like something, but whatever it is, we'll discuss it later.
Not now.
Not here.
And not in front of a potential client we've been trying to land for years. This is our last chance, she better not fuck it up. It took months of phone calls and feeding his ego just to get him here. If she ruins this for us, I'll be fucking pissed.
James relaxes deeper in his chair, picking up a pen and nibbling the end. He doesn't seem to notice my sister's response, his eyes digging deep into Dalia.
That jealousy flares again, licking my inside like hot ash. But I can control myself, I have to.
“This man. . .” His voice fades as he points at me. “He speaks highly of you.” James drags the tip of the pen across the top of his teeth, his eyes firmly on hers.
“Well, my broth—”
James holds up his hand, cutting Sandy off. “I believe I asked her.” He leans back in his chair, not even taking the time to look over at my sister. “So, tell me, Dalia, what do you think you can do for me that no one else has been able to do?” He folds his arms, letting them fall across his chest.
My sister's mouth thins into a sharp line. She stops talking, but I know she's pissed. This is her house, and she doesn't like being knocked off her horse. Luckily, she's smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut.
Let him have his moment, San, it'll be worth it in the end.
Dalia's face lights up, glowing with the readiness to show off what she can do. She's always been proud of her art, that's one of the things that's always drawn me to her. The passion she exudes is a flawless shield, and it only drives my obsession with her wilder.
Pulling the folder away from her body, she sets it on the table firmly. Her fingers dance across the surface as her eyes steady on the cover.
Thinning my lips into a tight a smirk, I sit back and watch her. The excitement, the way she's eager to show off what she has to offer him, that's all it takes to draw James in.
He's just as mesmerized with her as I am. That flash of jealousy careens through my gut again, strangling my muscles for a single breath. And as I exhale, I breathe fire down the table, warning the man to back off.
James feels the contention and shifts in his seat, pulling himself further away from her, despite not actually moving.
But Sandy, Sandy doesn't care what I think. She doesn't like this at all. She doesn't like not being the center of attention, or not being the one the client looks to for answers. This is her domain, and Dalia is becoming the center piece.
Dalia pulls out papers, laying them across the table for James to see. Her hands are moving all over, up over her head, across her chest, pointing and giving him a visual in his mind.
I love watching her like this. Engulfed in her art, in her designs, in the concepts as they come alive. With every movement her passion grows, her eyes brighten, and the air in the room thickens, like right before a thunderstorm.
The static bristles my skin, causing the hair to stand up on my arms. I'm loving her energy as she's talking, and her lips as they're moving. She's unstoppable. And James, James is hooked.
Glancing over at my sister, I expect to see the same satisfaction on her face that I feel. Instead she looks bored as hell. She isn't enjoying one second of this. Which is surprising, because what Dalia is doing gives Sandy exactly what she wants; money and success.
The more of that, the happier my sister usually is. But right now, she just looks annoyed.
The meeting lasts another forty-five minutes, and by the time James leaves, we're signed on to do his next five advertising campaigns using Dalia's designs.
Shaking his hand, I guide James out the door. Turning back to Dalia, I give her a big smile. “I'm taking you out to lunch for that. You deserve it. Seriously, nice job. James loves your stuff. You just did what no one else here has been able to do—ever.”
“Really?” Dalia asks, her cheeks blushing slightly. “No one else has won him over?”
“Not a soul,” I answer, flashing her a big, proud grin.
Clearing her throat, my sister grabs my wrist and starts to pull me away. “Excuse us, Dalia. Lyle, I need to talk to you alone for a minute.” Sandy drags me out of the conference room, and into the hall. The door closes behind us, clicking shut. And with that sound, Sandy's entire demeanor changes. “What the fuck was that?”
“What?” Furrowing my brows, I keep my eyes on hers.
“That,” she says, throwing an arm at the conference room door. “No one else here has ever done this, blah blah blah—” Her voice is deep as she mimics me. “And now lunch with her? No, it's not happening, it's not a good idea, Lyle.”
“Why the hell not? She just landed us a huge client. One, do I need to remind you, who no one else could ever win over. Why shouldn't she be rewarded?”
“Is that what
