“Thank you,” he says politely. “I would appreciate it if you did not try to impress me, and instead just did your best. I need this commercial to be right, and the model is what makes it hit or miss.”
Julio claps his hands, ushering the men away. “So charming, as always,” he mutters to Harmon. “Go take your seats.”
“Come,” Harmon says, leading the way to a row of chairs against a wall.
“Models?” I whisper loud enough for him to hear me as we take our seats. “Do you normally do this in a hotel conference room?”
“Not typically, but it’s all our schedule could work out on such short notice.”
“Why was it short notice?”
“There was an issue within my company, and so I’m working out a new, last-minute commercial to help push the line.”
“What kind of issue?” I ask.
He glances at me, looking as if he doesn’t want to tell me, but then he explains.
“Someone stole a prototype right before it was to be released. By the time we’d noticed, they were already releasing it. So, it’s a serious problem for us.”
“Shit,” I hiss. “That’s ridiculous. What are you doing about it?”
“The legal department has been working on it, but it’s been a pain in the ass. The media got a hold of it and of course making me look like the asshole sells more than the other way around. It’s going to court. It’ll be settled. We just have to be patient.”
“And you think pushing a new commercial will…”
“Take people’s eyes off the stolen product and focus on this style of watch instead.”
“Right. Yeah. I mean, it makes sense.”
“Good. Now focus on the men and tell me which one you like best.”
I sit back in my chair proudly.
He wants my opinion.
We spend the next hour watching men walk out of a door about a hundred feet from us and pretend they’re walking a red carpet. When they reach us, turn this way and that, adjust their cuff links, their ties, run their hands through their hair. Everylittle thing they can to look sophisticated while also bringing attention to the sleek silver watch on their wrist.
Before they come out, their names are announced and I do my best to remember them while they’re doing their thing, so I can tell Harmon which ones I liked.
“So, what did you think?” Julio asks once everyone has taken their turn.
“You did good this time. No one was drunk.”
“Hey,” Julio says, pointing a finger at him but smirking. “That was not my fault. And I fired him on the spot. Ruined his career. Last I knew, he’s begging for change near Grand Central.”
Harmon sighs, and says, “I’ll email you.”
He turns to leave, so I follow.
Behind us, Julio calls out, “I need an answer within an hour, Stone!”
We make our way back to our room, where Harmon loosens his tie and sits on the couch. He hasn’t said a word to me since we left the conference room. He looks stressed.
“You okay?” I ask, going to him.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? Because you don’t look it.”