Page 50 of I Want You

“Remember… we’re just two more employees here.”

“If you keep talking, I’ll show you what real work is,” Harper retorts.

“Ooh, what a temper,” the art director says with a smile, adjusting her wristwatch. “I like it when you get this feisty.”

“Good morning.”

Eleanor’s sharp voice cuts through the room from the doorway, and both women sit up instantly, keeping their distance. Harper feels that the movement was too abrupt, but she doesn’t have time to regret it. Eleanor enters the room escorted by the board’s top brass.

“I hope you’re all ready,” Eleanor says, taking her place at the head of the table with her characteristic natural authority.

Victoria closes her folder.

“Always.”

Harper glances at her out of the corner of her eye, narrowing her eyes.

“Speak for yourself…” she murmurs.

“You’ve been awake since 5:40,” Victoria observes, lowering her voice as she tucks a pen behind her ear. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had time to review.”

Harper turns her head sharply toward her.

“How do you know what time I got up?”

Victoria raises an eyebrow.

“Because you sent me the email at that time?”

Harper forces herself to clear her throat and fix her gaze on the main screen. Marissa Chen, sitting across from her, gives her a knowing smile that Harper prefers not to analyze.

The meeting begins with the financial report. The preliminary metrics for the issue are indisputable: since Victoria’s arrival and the joint redesign, interest from international firms has skyrocketed, and the cover proof has won over the sales department.

When it’s time for the creative presentation, Harper stands up. Victoria does the same beside her. The screen lights up, revealing the final cover image: the model striking a powerful pose, enveloped in a composition where light and shadow interplay with magnetic sophistication. It’s the synthesis of both of them: Victoria’s impeccable aesthetic eye and Harper’s commercial flair.

“This is the final cover concept,” Harper begins, her voice firm and confident. “We wanted to move away from static elegance. The issue revolves around redefinition: women and brands that reinvent themselves without losing their essence.”

Victoria takes over without interrupting the flow of the presentation.

“We’re treating the layout with dramatic contrasts,” adds the art director, pointing out details on the screen with a laser pointer. “Haute couture combined with industrial textures. We want our regular readers to recognize the excellence of Velvet & Silk, but also to notice that the magazine is taking a step forward.”

Peter Hollis adjusts his glasses, looking for the flaw.

“Aren’t you afraid of alienating our more conservative audience?”

Harper doesn’t hesitate for a second.

“Not when the evolution is consistent. Our longtime readers will still recognize themselves.”

Victoria exchanges a quick glance with Harper. It’s just a fleeting look, a wordless language that says, “We’ve got this.”

For another forty minutes, they break down the content, the digital pieces, and the emerging talent section. Eleanor listens to them without interrupting once, maintaining an analytical silence that makes Harper’s hair stand on end.

Eleanor slowly leafs through the printed document.

“I was expecting outstanding work…” she says, looking up at both of them. “But this borders on excellence.”

An immediate sense of relief washes over Harper. Beside her, she notices Victoria’s shoulders relax imperceptibly.