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  “I’m in marketing,” Sienna answered.

  “Well, it’s selling in a way, isn’t it?”

  “Mother, they are two totally different things.”

  “That’s all right, Sylvia,” Millicent said, turning to another guest.

  “Sienna, could you at least try not to embarrass me?” her mother hissed.

  “How am I supposed to speak about pharmaceutical sales? I haven’t even tried to advertise drugs, let alone sell them.”

  Her mother just rolled her eyes and turned to the crowd that was gathering at the fountain. A few minutes later, tea was announced. Everyone took seats at various places around the courtyard. Sienna found an unoccupied bench close to a set of French doors. The maid who had let them in passed around puffed pastries and crustless, triangle-shaped sandwiches. Sienna heaped as much as possible on the small saucer. She was starving.

  She passed on the tea, accepting a glass of lemonade instead.

  “Sienna.” Her head began to throb at her mother’s call. Sienna rose, folding a napkin over her half-eaten food and placing the plate on the bench.

  “Yes, Mother?” Sienna asked as she came upon her mother’s table.

  “Come over here and say hello to Mrs. Henderson. You remember Edwina, don’t you? Her daughter, Tricia, made her debut the same year you did.”

  And her son Curtis had nearly raped her.

  Sienna’s breath caught in her throat as images of that night came raging to the forefront of her mind. The rough brick grating against her back, the smell of alcohol on his breath, the thick humidity nearly choking her, along with the fear. So much fear.

  She tried to catch her breath, but couldn’t. She felt faint; the walls started to close in.

  “I—I need to go,” she said.

  Sienna turned in a semi-circle, searching for the door that would lead her out of this cauldron of memories she had never intended to remember again. Ignoring her mother’s voice, Sienna grabbed her purse from where she’d laid it next to the bench and took off through the French doors.

  ***

  “What about a Hawaiian theme?” Monica asked.

  Toby looked over at his future sister-in-law. She took a loud bite out of her apple as she lounged in the overstuffed armchair in Eli’s spacious den. Eli sat on the floor next to her, his eyes rolling back in his head in pleasure as Monica massaged his scalp with her free hand.

  “You’re not getting my ass in a grass skirt,” Eli drawled.

  Walking past him on the way to the sofa, Alex knocked his brother on the side of the head. “Don’t use that kind of language. Jasmine’s in the kitchen.”

  “In that case, we’d better stop talking about this all together,” Eli said. “If Jazzy overhears us, Mama’s surprise party won’t be a surprise much longer.”

  “You’re right about that,” Alex admitted with a grin. “My little crumb snatcher is not good at keeping secrets.”

  “Which is how Mama found out about your speeding ticket the other day.” Eli laughed. “I heard she chewed you out.”

  Alex did an exaggerated shiver. “I’m a grown man. How that woman still manages to scare me, I’ll never know.”

  “She scares all of you.” Monica laughed. “I think it’s cute.”

  “It’s embarrassing is what it is,” Eli said.

  “Let’s put the party talk on the side for now,” Monica suggested. “I want to hear from Mr. Silent over there.” She looked to Toby. “What’s up with you tonight, Toby? You’ve hardly said anything, and I counted at least three times you could have teased your older brothers.”

  “Nothing.” Toby shrugged. “Just thinking.”

  “Ah, that’s it, his brain is tired. We all know how taxing thinking is on you.”

  Toby pitched a throw pillow at Eli’s head.

  “What’s happening with the show?” Monica asked. “Have you signed on the dotted line yet?”

  “Last night,” he answered with a nod.

  Toby stretched his arms across the top of the sofa and lulled his head from side to side, working out the kinks in his neck. He had been on edge these past few days, but now that his plans were beginning to take shape, he was starting to think about just how much doing this show could mean to his career. Even though he still missed it like crazy, this was his chance to prove he was good for something other than dribbling a basketball.

  “So, what now?” Alex asked. “Do we have to start opening doors for you and rolling out the red carpet?”

  “Bull sh—” Eli stopped at the look Alex sent him. “Bull crap,” he amended. “Don’t think anybody is going to kiss your butt just because you’ll be on TV.”

  “Who said anything about kissing my butt? And Aria’s the one who’s going to be in front of the camera, not me.”

  “As long as you don’t expect special treatment,” Eli said.

  “Toby, don’t pay any mind to your brothers,” Monica said. Rising from the armchair, she came over to sit next to him on the sofa. “Now, tell me about the show.”

  “I pretty much gave you all the gist of it the other day, but Kellerman laid out more details in our meeting yesterday. He actually liked the fact that Aria is focused more on her music than on her sex appeal. He said she could fill the Miss Goody Two-Shoes role. All these reality shows have the same theme, whether it’s centered on music, or modeling, or any of the other fifty thousand things they make into a TV show these days. There’s a Bad Boy, a Geek, a Loner, a Loud Mouth, a Whiny Brat, a Sex Kitten, and a Sweet, Innocent One—Aria. Kellerman also likes that she fits the young, urban female spot they’d been hoping to fill.”

  “This is perfect,” Monica beamed, nearly as excited as Aria was when Toby had talked to her earlier today. “Aria doesn’t have to compromise her morals, and she still gets mega exposure.”

  “That’s my main goal. I’m using this show as a vehicle to what I really want to achieve here, long-term success for my client. I want to focus on broadening her fan base, which is why she’s going to sing at my friend Jonathan’s new club, The Hard Court. That’ll reach the 28 - 45 demographic.”

  “Listen to you,” Eli said. “Talking like you have a clue about this stuff.”

  Toby flipped his brother the finger. “You don’t have to worry about Jazzy hearing that,” he said to Alex.

  “Would you let him finish,” Monica chastised Eli. “Continue, Toby.”

  “The next step is to meet with the woman from the marketing firm.”

  “Marketing firm?” Eli asked.

  “Now that I’ve signed on, I want to make sure I do it right. This show is too important to mess up by spreading myself too thin, and after meeting with Kellerman Sunday morning I decided to hire a marketing firm to help with PR. I need to concentrate on getting the music right; I can’t be distracted by the promo.

  “Is hiring an outside firm allowed in the rules?”

  Toby nodded.

  “Does the show pay for it?” Alex asked.

  “No, but I’ve got a little saved.” Way more than his brothers knew about. “It’s worth the expense. We need to cover a broad area, and sticking flyers on car windshields is not going to cut it.”

  “Did you talk to Sienna?” Alex asked. Toby shook his head. “But that’s her field. Sienna should have been the first person you talked to.”

  “I need a professional to handle this, Alex.”

  “The girl has a friggin’ Master’s degree. That’s more than you have.”

  His brother was of the “help out a friend, even at your own expense” school of thinking. Promoting Aria as a cast member of this show was too important to put in Sienna’s hands just to throw a little business her way. He needed proven skill for this, which is why he’d parted with a hefty chunk from his savings account for this marketing firm. It would be worth it when there was an Aria Jordan song downloaded onto every MP3 player in America.

  Toby pushed himself up from the sofa. “I need to get going. Let me know what theme you guys pick f
or Mama’s party.”

  “Grandma’s having a party?” a squeaky voice asked from behind him. Toby’s eyes slid shut as Jasmine walked into the center of the living room.

  “Oh, great,” Eli muttered.

  “Sorry,” Toby mouthed. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “What about grandma’s party?” he heard his niece ask as he headed for the door.

  Chapter Four

  Sienna quickly skimmed the electronic newsletter that came via email from the American Marketing Society. Finding a few articles of interest, she saved it to her hard drive, promising she would read it and all the others she’d stashed when she had more time. If she ever had more time. She was only two days into the workweek and was already craving Friday.

  She grabbed the work jackets from her desk and plopped them in her lap. Sienna thumbed through the stack, searching for the insertion orders for the Tailored Affairs Event Planners job that would wrap today. She felt no small amount of pride for all the work she’d put into this job, even though as the junior branding strategist on the account she probably wouldn’t get so much as a “job well done”.

  She’d foolishly believed things would be easier when she finished school. Sienna shook her head and grunted. Now that she was officially an “adult”, Sienna wasn’t so sure she wanted to be one.

  The freedom that came with living on her own was a notch in the plus column. She relished being able to come and go as she pleased, to eat mashed potatoes and corn-on-the-cob for breakfast, or lounge around naked on a Sunday afternoon watching TV in her living room.

  But with that freedom came responsibilities. And responsibilities were a pain in her ass.

  Grandma Elise’s decision to leave Sienna her house had been a blessing—and she was extremely grateful—but taking care of an old house required money. Lots of money. And until she started landing more lucrative accounts, many of the improvement projects she’d planned to tackle around the house would have to wait.

  Maybe if she were “successful” like the daughters of her mother’s uppity cronies at the tea on Sunday, she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping a roof over her head. Or, better yet, if she found a husband, he could take care of her and she wouldn’t have to work at all. She could spend the rest of her life popping out ugly little babies and showing them around to a bunch of mindless women who smiled in her face one minute then talked behind her back the next.

  No, thank you.

  Sienna absolutely despised everything about society life. There was nothing more important to those women than getting your picture in the paper at a high-flying social gathering, or even better, having someone of import attend your affair. Millicent Perkins had scored major points having the wife of a well-known councilman at her tea. Sienna would have been more impressed if she’d invited a couple of disadvantaged girls from one of the city’s lower income areas. Of course, the women in her mother’s cluster of friends stayed as far from those areas as possible, even though many of them were products of the very neighborhoods they now shunned. The hypocrisy was enough to turn Sienna’s stomach.

  She thought of what had happened at the tea; the way she’d fled. Her mother had called her cell phone over a dozen times since the tea, but Sienna could not begin to think how to explain her actions.

  “Hey, did you hear?”

  Sienna looked up to find Scooter Simon leaning in the doorway to her office. Scooter held the prestigious position of being last year’s recruit. He was cute in a five-dollar haircut, JC Penny suit-wearing sort of way, but he was as tenacious as they come, and had no qualms about stepping over people to make the biggest impression.

  Sienna could hide her irritation at being disturbed, but why bother? It wouldn’t make a bit of difference to Scooter anyway.

  “Hear what?” she finally addressed him. She was not in the mood for gossip this morning.

  “Jamie had a heart attack last night.”

  “What!” Sienna bolted out of her chair.

  “That’s what I heard.” Scooter nodded. “One minute she’s helping her kid with his math homework, the next, she’s on the floor.”

  Scooter had such a flair for the dramatic. Although, the thought of a thirty-five-year-old marathon runner who lived on health shakes and bean sprouts having a heart attack was a bit dramatic.

  “Is she all right?” Sienna asked, sinking back into her chair.

  “She’s not dead yet.”

  “Scooter!”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “That’s all I know. Let me see what else I can find out.”

  Sienna stared unseeingly at her computer screen. Jamie Kurshon was the fourth person under the age of fifty to suffer a health-related problem since she’d started at Mulholland, Davis and French. A senior associate had suffered a heart attack. One of the marketing reps had a stroke, and then another had a nervous breakdown. Was this in store for her?

  No. She would not let the stress of this job affect her to the point of jeopardizing her health. Sienna knew it was a tough business. It could be downright cutthroat, especially when the junior associates were vying for the same accounts. But she could handle it. She’d faced much, much more, and had lived through it.

  Pushing her chair away from the desk, Sienna rose. Allen Mulholland, the senior most partner, came through her opened door. Sienna sat back down.

  “Thank God you’re here.” He stopped just short of walking into her desk.

  “Good morning, Allen,” Sienna greeted. “Of course, I’m here. I get in at seven.”

  Allen gave a pass over his receding hairline and sighed. “It’s been a rough morning.”

  “I heard about Jamie. How is she?”

  “She’s out of surgery. I’m going over to the hospital in about an hour.”

  “Tell her I’m thinking about her.”

  “Of course, of course.” Allen stuck his hands in his pockets. “Look, Sienna. We’re in a bind.”

  “How so?” And why was he coming to her?

  Sienna held no delusions about where she fit into the company infrastructure. She was a tiny tadpole in an ocean of marketing sharks.

  “Todd, Michael and Sherrell are out sick. And with Jamie out for God knows how long—not that I don’t understand about health concerns, because believe me, I do—but there is still a business to run.”

  “I understand, Allen. Being concerned about our clients’ welfare doesn’t make you insensitive.”

  He took a deep breath, pulled his hand out of his pocket and dragged it down his face. “I know this is a tough business. I’ve been in it for nearly twenty years, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I fell dead any minute now.” He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Don’t worry, I’d call 911,” Sienna joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. It worked. Allen looked up and gave her a wan smile.

  “So, what exactly has us in this bind?” she asked.

  “Jamie has several accounts in various stages that will have to be shuffled around. She’d just accepted another one yesterday afternoon. I was hoping you could take it.”

  Sienna called on every single bit of restraint she possessed to keep a smile from breaking across her face. Grinning like a buffoon would not be appropriate in light of her co-worker’s current condition.

  “Jamie speaks so highly of you,” Allen continued. “You were the first person I thought of this morning.”

  “Really?” Sienna asked, the smile lifting a corner of her mouth despite her best efforts to curb it.

  “The client is scheduled to be here in just a few minutes. I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but after everything that’s happened this morning…”

  “Don’t even think about it. All I’ll need is a quick glance at the file. The first meeting usually is just going over the preliminaries.”

  “Usually, yes. But not with this one. This client is on an accelerated timetable. Actually, this should be a fun project.” He handed her the file folder he had carried. “The client is invo
lved with some kind of reality TV show.”

  The bottom dropped out of Sienna’s stomach.

  “Jamie and I talked about it on the phone last night, about an hour before she had her heart attack, if you can believe it. From what she explained, it sounds like another one of those shows where contestants can land a recording contract. Like that American Idol.”

  Oh, God. Sienna suppressed a groan.

  Looking slightly sheepish, Allen admitted, “I won’t lie. I never miss those shows.”

  “Me either,” she stuttered after a hard swallow. Sienna’s mind went blank as she tried to comprehend what her brain was just beginning to digest. She would be in charge of Aria Jordan’s account? It was up to her to make Toby’s current plaything a household name?

  “This has the potential to be the most significant stepping stone into the entertainment world this company has ever had,” Allen said. “They’re calling New Orleans ‘Hollywood South’, you know. The explosion of motion pictures being filmed in the area has created an enormous amount of publicity for the city.”

  Sienna nodded. She couldn’t speak if she tried.

  “The bulk of our clients are in oil and gas, but as South Louisiana turns more toward the entertainment industry, we need to cash in on every opportunity we can. I think this new reality show is going to be a big hit. Jamie was very excited.”

  “I must say,” Sienna started, thankful for the rebirth of her voice. “I’m honored that you would even count me as a candidate for such an important endeavor.”

  “Jamie speaks highly of you,” he reiterated. “I trust her judgment.”

  Sienna felt a twinge of what could only be described as validation. And it felt darn good. After years of having her mother look down on her life choices, hearing her boss’s praise was a definite boost to her ego.

  “Allen.” It was the receptionist, Candi. “Jamie’s new clients just arrived.”

  Her stomach did that nosedive thing again. She wished she had packed Pepto-Bismol. Of course, she’d had no clue she would have to face Toby and Miss Perfect this morning.