Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(9)
“Do you always do this segment on a white background?” I asked, tapping the mock-up. I knew perfectly well they did, and it’d been a major pet peeve of mine. The hissing voice at the back of my head told me to keep my mouth shut, but for once, I stifled it easily.
“It’s the only way to see the colors accurately,” Betty said, a little drone in her voice. Apparently, I hadn’t impressed her by questioning Rubenesque.
“To see them against white,” I said, shrugging. “But a lot of these products are sheer and they’re going to interact differently on everyone.”
Cyrus’ lips pursed and he spun the mock-up to face him. “We’ve done photoshoots before on skin tone differentiation in looks.”
“What if it’s not on a model though?” I asked, sitting up. “What if you just split the mock-up into like…four, maybe six quadrants and show it that way.” I spun my stool and jumped up, quickly crossing to the foundations and grabbing up a handful. “If you match the sections to Lissie’s magic bases that claim to blend so well, then you can add even more product to the feature.”
“Going solely Lissie might piss some of our companies off, but we could follow that general premise,” Zane said, looking to Cyrus who was watching me with a heavy stare. “Grab the best foundations for each tone range.”
I focused on the others, relieved to see no one resented my sudden interruption in the planned mock-up. This was it. This was why I wanted this job. I had been a subscriber for years and for at least half that time, I’d had ideas I wanted to share.
“Okay, so we present this to Wendy on Thursday. Get those colors set up stat,” Cyrus said, pushing up from his stool. “Zane, you, Lola, and Betty sort out the colors. Keep it simple, try and duplicate across the different shades, make the products as versatile as possible. Corey, Anna, keep on their asses and start planning your new copy. Keep the ‘zest’ in theme… Oh, and note Lola on the sheerness, that kind of thing. If it looks good, we can make ourselves a new regular layout.”
He headed for the door without another look, and Betty clucked her teeth and offered me a reluctant but genuine smile. “Not bad, newbie.”
Three
Lola
The next day, I finished a soft brush stroke on the thin plexiglass layer covering our warm mid-tone, implying plush lips. It had been a last-minute suggestion of mine before we made our new product-feature mock-up to add a face, and I’d had to demonstrate with a thin black acrylic before anyone really took me seriously.
“Admit it,” I said, smiling at Zane. “You thought I was gonna draw the equivalent of an emoji.”
Zane snorted, shaking his head and then whipping his long, surfer-blond hair back over his shoulder, folding his arms over his narrow chest. “Just be glad you’re earning your keep,” he said. “For about a week, Cyrus thought the magazine would just go ahead and cut your position. Wendy still thinks we’re over-staffed.”
“Wendy thinks the magazine’s dried up in general,” Betty mumbled from my other side, and Zane hissed at her.
My eyes widened, and I stepped back, letting them step in and make their careful strokes of color and product. “She’s the Editor-in-Chief.”
“She loves Designate,” Zane assured me over his shoulder as he twisted a brief smear of vivid, blood-orange lip gloss above my implied pout and then rested the bottle and brush artfully alongside. “The magazine’s just had a lot of tension since Segal was hired for Voir.”
“Like the cruelty-free change?” I asked.
“No, that was Wendy,” Betty said, and I nodded, but neither of them offered to elaborate.
“Okay, I think that actually looks very compelling,” Zane said, voice prim. “I’ll take the shot. Are you guys getting lunch in the canteen?”
“I’m meeting up with a friend.”
Betty hummed. “You go on ahead then, Lola. I’ll make sure Zane here eats his green vegetables.”
Zane snorted, going to pick up the nice camera and positioning it over our work. I got the distinct impression I was being shooed out of the room so they could continue whatever gossip they’d hinted at in front of me. Which was fine. I had a feeling I’d probably hear all of it before long anyway, and I was more interested in seeing Baby.
I grabbed my coat from Daze—short for Daisy, and probably a better fit for the somewhat spacey but charming receptionist—and headed down to the lobby. Aside from Cyrus, and the brief run-in with Matthieu the day before, I hadn’t been in contact with other alphas in the building. And while Cyrus might have had the heavy scent of an alpha, he seemed relatively laid back and from what I could tell, only dealt with us in the group setting. I could live with that. I was determined to.
Baby was bouncing on the balls of her feet in the lobby when I got downstairs, dressed in shredded jeans and an oversized t-shirt that I knew probably reeked of one of her alphas. At her side was the handsome beta, Seth, or ‘Bomber’ to match the cut of the leather jacket he was wearing. They stood out sharply against all the wool and black and suits of the Stanmore, but they were both so good looking you could almost believe they were models on their way up to Designate for a photoshoot—pre-hair and makeup and wardrobe.