like the copy I wrote for the Flow account. He said it was watered down. No pun intended."
Didn't like probably translated into a major rant session. Charles wasn't exactly diplomatic, even with his own daughter. "He never likes the first round of copy. I don't understand why this got to you this time."
"Because he said he wished Claire was back working for him." She curled into a sad ball. "I hate it when he compares me to my sister. Of course I'm going to come up short. Claire is magic."
"I wish you'd think about leaving Evolve. You aren't happy working for your dad. Isn't it time you did something you really wanted to do? Like open a bakery."
Eve arched her fine eyebrows. "Just the way you're doing your life's purpose?"
She frowned. "It's different. I have to support Anna through college."
"And I have my father to think about." Eve sighed. "It's not easy, is it?"
"No."
"Let's not talk about any of that tonight. Eat a cookie and tell me why you're dressed like that. That's definitely a new look for you."
"I look pretty good though, don't I?" She twisted in front of a small mirror hanging in her living room.
"You'd look good wearing a garbage bag. I hate that about you," Eve said mildly as she reached for cookie.
"I'm thinking of taking a dance class." She pirouetted with a flourish.
"Great idea. Dancing is sexy. What kind of dance? Wait, let me guess." Tipping her head to one side, she studied her carefully. "All black, brightly patterned scarf... African tribal dancing?"
"Belly dancing." Freya shook her hips and shimmied across the room. "It's exotic and all about exploring sensuality. Maybe it'll give me inspiration."
"It's great that you're taking initiative, but there's just one problem."
"What?"
"You don't have a belly."
She shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."
"As long as you're prepared to be mocked for your pathetic belly."
"Don't forget my breasts." Freya adjusted her meager cleavage. "My breasts are even more pathetic."
"Good thing you have nice legs. That's your only saving grace."
Laughing, Freya sat down on the couch and grabbed a cookie. "I hope making fun of my body is cheering you up."
"Immensely." Eve grinned. "So what happened with the ad? I wanted to ask you earlier but with Charles..."
"Say no more." She held her hand up. "The first batch of messages was less than desirable, but I'm confident I'll find a couple guys to go out with soon."
"Have you made any progress with the web design?"
Freya wilted just a little. "I have three weeks to get together a few mockups for Charles's approval."
"Then it's good that you're taking the dance class too. At least until the right guy comes along to tempt you out of celibacy."
For some reason, the right guy conjured an image of Cavanaugh. She wrinkled her nose as she physically shook the picture out of her brain. "Right."
"I should get going. I have an early meeting tomorrow, and if I stay longer I'll eat all the cookies I baked for you and not be able to sleep for the sugar rush." She stood up and took another cookie with a sly grin.
Freya walked Eve downstairs and then went back to her room to strip out of her dance clothes. She was pulling on pajamas when her door buzzed again.
Wondering what Eve forgot, she pulled up the pink paisley bottoms and hurried down the stairs again. "What is it this time?" she asked as she threw the door open. "Need to make disparaging comments about my feet?"
"I've never had the chance to study your feet, and I'd hate to make any kind of judgments without fully inspecting them first." Cavanaugh bent over to stare at her feet.
She looked down automatically. She'd painted her toes Purple Rain and wore her customary silver anklet.
"So what do you say?" Cavanaugh asked, looking up as she did.
"What do I say about what?"
"Inspecting your feet. I'll be gentle, and if you're good I'll throw in a foot massage."
Glancing at his hands, she knew instinctively a foot massage given by him would be better than the best
Didn't like probably translated into a major rant session. Charles wasn't exactly diplomatic, even with his own daughter. "He never likes the first round of copy. I don't understand why this got to you this time."
"Because he said he wished Claire was back working for him." She curled into a sad ball. "I hate it when he compares me to my sister. Of course I'm going to come up short. Claire is magic."
"I wish you'd think about leaving Evolve. You aren't happy working for your dad. Isn't it time you did something you really wanted to do? Like open a bakery."
Eve arched her fine eyebrows. "Just the way you're doing your life's purpose?"
She frowned. "It's different. I have to support Anna through college."
"And I have my father to think about." Eve sighed. "It's not easy, is it?"
"No."
"Let's not talk about any of that tonight. Eat a cookie and tell me why you're dressed like that. That's definitely a new look for you."
"I look pretty good though, don't I?" She twisted in front of a small mirror hanging in her living room.
"You'd look good wearing a garbage bag. I hate that about you," Eve said mildly as she reached for cookie.
"I'm thinking of taking a dance class." She pirouetted with a flourish.
"Great idea. Dancing is sexy. What kind of dance? Wait, let me guess." Tipping her head to one side, she studied her carefully. "All black, brightly patterned scarf... African tribal dancing?"
"Belly dancing." Freya shook her hips and shimmied across the room. "It's exotic and all about exploring sensuality. Maybe it'll give me inspiration."
"It's great that you're taking initiative, but there's just one problem."
"What?"
"You don't have a belly."
She shrugged. "Nobody's perfect."
"As long as you're prepared to be mocked for your pathetic belly."
"Don't forget my breasts." Freya adjusted her meager cleavage. "My breasts are even more pathetic."
"Good thing you have nice legs. That's your only saving grace."
Laughing, Freya sat down on the couch and grabbed a cookie. "I hope making fun of my body is cheering you up."
"Immensely." Eve grinned. "So what happened with the ad? I wanted to ask you earlier but with Charles..."
"Say no more." She held her hand up. "The first batch of messages was less than desirable, but I'm confident I'll find a couple guys to go out with soon."
"Have you made any progress with the web design?"
Freya wilted just a little. "I have three weeks to get together a few mockups for Charles's approval."
"Then it's good that you're taking the dance class too. At least until the right guy comes along to tempt you out of celibacy."
For some reason, the right guy conjured an image of Cavanaugh. She wrinkled her nose as she physically shook the picture out of her brain. "Right."
"I should get going. I have an early meeting tomorrow, and if I stay longer I'll eat all the cookies I baked for you and not be able to sleep for the sugar rush." She stood up and took another cookie with a sly grin.
Freya walked Eve downstairs and then went back to her room to strip out of her dance clothes. She was pulling on pajamas when her door buzzed again.
Wondering what Eve forgot, she pulled up the pink paisley bottoms and hurried down the stairs again. "What is it this time?" she asked as she threw the door open. "Need to make disparaging comments about my feet?"
"I've never had the chance to study your feet, and I'd hate to make any kind of judgments without fully inspecting them first." Cavanaugh bent over to stare at her feet.
She looked down automatically. She'd painted her toes Purple Rain and wore her customary silver anklet.
"So what do you say?" Cavanaugh asked, looking up as she did.
"What do I say about what?"
"Inspecting your feet. I'll be gentle, and if you're good I'll throw in a foot massage."
Glancing at his hands, she knew instinctively a foot massage given by him would be better than the best
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