The Beauty And The Ceo
“So, what did you think of Zoe Baldwin?”
Will dropped the portfolio at the unexpected interruption and cursed under his breath. “Jesus, Donovan, don’t you knock?”
“We’re family.”
“All the more reason to knock,” Will joked. The last round of complaints from their cousins were due to Donovan’s dating the models. He went through at least one on a weekly basis. They threw themselves at him. The one thing a lot of models wanted more than a modeling contract for a spread in an RC ad was to land one of the Ravens men. Having his brothers in charge of anything dealing with models was as productive as letting a fox guard a henhouse. Fortunately, Will, the youngest of the men, had more common sense.
Less than ten years ago, the new generation of Ravens had been placed on the board. Everyone owned an equal share of Ravens Cosmetics. Half of Will’s cousins wanted to dismantle the company. They were tired of the meetings and responsibilities. Will knew his great-grandparents were rolling in their graves at the idea. For the cousins, even the limited time they had to spend in the office was still too much. Will and his siblings, along with a handful of cousins, wanted to keep the legacy alive. The problem was, they were a band of eight against a band of another eight.
Donovan nodded his head. “Alright, you got me there.” He stepped inside Will’s office and made himself comfortable in one of the matching leather seats in front of Will’s desk. “So, I’ll ask you again, what did you think of Zoe?”
“Which one was she?” Will needed to play dumb. When the position opened up, Will was skeptical when Donovan suggested Zoe Baldwin. Given Donovan’s track record, Will didn’t want to risk any form of lawsuit. Given the chemistry Will felt when he spotted Zoe at the elevator, Will did not want to admit his attraction to a potential employee.
Gossip spread like wildfires in office settings. Kelly Towers, and all the businesses housed on the floors, was not immune to the tabloids. Home to the local news station, celebrity appearances and eager folks trying to catch a break in the media world, this building was often the target of tabloid spies. Will prided himself on his discretion. He took dating a person seriously. In a building filled with scantily clad women and men representing everything Ravens Cosmetics had to offer, spotting the demure woman at the elevator had been the highlight of his life for the last few weeks. Will’s days of going through women were over. He was tired of women impressed by and after his money. Will never realized how much he appreciated the classic beauty of a woman until he’d seen her. She’d worn a simple skirt, a somewhat loud red blouse and pearls at her ears, as well as around her slender neck. When was the last time a woman wore pearls around her neck as a part of an outfit—not several strands of pearls as an outfit?
Will summed up Zoe Baldwin in one word: beautiful. There had been an instant connection between them when he walked into the hallway downstairs. It had been the first time he’d actually passed out one of the business cards he was given when he took on his role of CEO. If his brothers and sisters knew Will had almost asked her out today, they’d never leave him alone about it. His cousins would never trust his decisions if he acted like Donovan or Marcus.
“Y’all talking about the interviews today?” Marcus asked, poking his head in the door.
“Yes,” Donovan said, leaning back in his chair to look at their oldest brother. “And Will is trying to act like he doesn’t know which one Zoe was.”
Marcus chuckled and entered the room. He took the seat next to Donovan and propped his elbows on Will’s desk. “The one you drooled so much over, we needed to get the cleaning crew to mop up the saliva? The one who caused the hallway to become so sexually charged when she and Will laid eyes on each other?”
It was going to take some time for Will to get used to being around his family like this. Luckily his sisters, Dana and Eva, were out of town at a convention. They would already have started planning his wedding. Will needed to get used to the idea of carrying on his grandparents’ corporate legacy before he thought about adding to it.
“You ought to go into creative writing,” Will said with a dry yawn.
“I’ve got my hands full being president.” Marcus glanced down at his fingers.
As Marcus inspected his cuticles, Donovan and Will dramatically bowed down at the president, a teasing move they did every time Marcus felt the need to inform them of his title. No one wanted to be the president. The president was the face of the company with not as much power as people believed. But if anyone needed to be the face, it was Marcus. He was what Will considered pretty, with soft brown hair and deeply tanned skin, helped out a bit by the Miami sun.
Thanks to a car accident a few years ago, Donovan never wanted to be in the public eye. He wanted to hide the long scar down his cheek from the cameras. No matter the differences Will saw between himself and his brothers, everywhere they went, people always knew they were siblings.
“You guys are jerks, you know that?” asked Marcus with a tight smile.
“You guys nominated me, a guy with no credibility in the business other than my last name, to be the CEO while I was recuperating,” Will said drily. “So sue me if I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“By ‘recuperating—’” Donovan raised his hands for air quotes “—you mean you were at your sci-fi convention?”
Will pressed his hands on top of the portfolios. “I believe you were right there next to me in a Flash mask.”
Marcus’s head snapped toward Donovan. “You said you were in New York.”
“I was, right after Comic-Con.”
Before his brothers went off on a tangent, Will cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about the interviews today. I’d like to be on a united front before we meet back with the cousins.”
His grandparents carried on a long family tradition of creating products for the community. They’d raised their six kids in a modest four-bedroom home in Overtown, a predominately African American neighborhood in Miami. His great-great-grandmother had sold hair-care products to the women whose husbands worked on the railroads. Skin-care and hair-care products had helped mold the Ravens into a millionaire family back in the day. Will wanted to make sure Ravens Cosmetics made it to one hundred years in business.
Will concentrated on his brothers in front of him. “Who did y’all like?”
“Zoe,” Donovan and Marcus chorused.
Will liked Zoe, but he wasn’t sure it was for the same reasons as his brothers. It wasn’t like Will to arrive at RC late, as he had that morning. His cousins Katie and Dixon had conveniently forgotten to remind him of the time change for the interviews. And to make matters worse, he’d worked out with Dixon this morning. No wonder Dixon had hopped off the treadmill a few miles sooner than normal. Will should have known better. These cousins were ready to dissolve Ravens Cosmetics. He frowned. Will refused to let that happen on his watch.
“I’m not sure she’s what I had in mind for such a position.”
“And what did you have in mind?”
Flipping open the portfolio with Zoe’s face on it, Will thumbed through the photographs of all the women and men she’d worked on. “This work is too busy for me. We’re here to support the everyday woman, and she paints a face like they’re eighties rock stars.”
“Paints a face?” Marcus snickered as if he’d said something erroneous. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I want to go in a different direction. I want something more classic.” Will sat back in his seat and poised his fingers like a steeple. “Like a 1940s look.”
“You want to start a new retro look?” asked Donovan.
“See, that’s what is wrong with you two.” Will shrugged his shoulders and continued without waiting for an answer. “What’s wrong with it? Everyone else is looking for these loud colors and makeup so heavy the girls resemble raccoons. I’m trying to save the company with something new this generation hasn’t experienced.”
“And you think you can bring classic back? Women evolved from that style, as well. Zoe is hot right now.”
Will shrugged again. Yes, Zoe was hot now and if she worked here, she’d also be un-dateable. “Hey, you guys put me in this position. I can take it, but you are going to have to trust me on this. Tell me the truth, do you really want to bring your lady to Sunday dinner looking like this?” Will held up one of the jobs Zoe had done and shook his head. At the elevator she’d given off a classic vibe, but her body of work on paper did not interest him. “No, I want to take things in a new direction. Trust me.”
Chapter 2
By the time Zoe turned the lock on her door at the Cozier Condos off Biscayne Boulevard, she was tired and heartbroken. Humiliated was a better description of her day. Never before had she expected to go through the stressful interview process to prove her worth. Well, maybe not never. Once she’d had to interview for the job as a scoop girl at The Scoop’s Ice Cream Parlor back in Southwood, Georgia, when Zoe’s love for makeup had exceeded her allowance. She had to prove to the owners she loved ice cream and all of the flavors they had to offer. Hopefully Zoe’s most stressful interviews would be her first and her last.
The set of house keys jingled with a clink into the clear bowl on top of the credenza. The weight of the keys shifted the bowl into yesterday’s mail, nudging the silver box with gold writing on top. The latest Ravens Cosmetic Artist Kit filled with fabulous foundation colors had arrived, along with the silver tubes of lipstick. Zoe broke out one bullet-shaped container and inspected the color—No Shade. Usually these beauty boxes excited her, but today’s mood rippled with disappointment.
When in doubt, Zoe always called on a hometown friend for advice. On her phone, she pressed the icon she had for Lexi—a tiara—and waited for the beauty queen to answer. While Lexi had gone to a different school during the year, she came home to Southwood for the summers and she and her friends had taken Zoe under their wing.
Lexi answered on the second ring. “How did it go today?”
“It was nothing like I expected,” Zoe drawled. She set the phone on the counter and swiped the speaker button for a hands-free conversation while she fiddled around in her condo’s kitchen. “I had to wait in the conference room like a person trying to...” Zoe lost her words.
“Get a job?” Lexi provided.
Even though Lexi couldn’t see, Zoe rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I have a job. Several of them. Did you forget the MET Awards are coming up next in August and Fashion Week after that?”
Celebrities were already requesting Zoe’s help for the big event for Multi-Ethnic Television. She had high-profile weddings in the Midwest on the schedule as well, and a few more job interviews up north. Travel was her middle name. At least the MET event was going to be held in Orlando this year.
“But you want just the one. You wanted to be in a permanent spot.” Lexi reminded her. “Or, at least, that’s what you told me the last time we spoke. I bet your suitcase isn’t even unpacked from your stint in Hollywood.”
Since her overnight bag was still by her laundry-room door, Zoe decided not to confirm Lexi’s statement. Instead, she hummed a little ditty for a moment while her eyes searched the kitchen counter for something to eat. Finding the bag of roti from Trudy’s, the local West Indian market and restaurant around the corner, Zoe grabbed a piece of the bread made from stone-ground flour and went to the refrigerator for the questionable leftover curry from last week. While the food heated up, Zoe grabbed the phone, took it off the stand and headed off toward her bedroom. Her apartment had only two bedrooms, a small living room and a dinette and kitchen, but it was home—subleased, but still home.
“I can still call in some favors with RC,” said Lexi.
It seemed there wasn’t a person in the fashion world Lexi did not know. Her store, Grits and Glam Gowns, was renowned. As women flocked there for dresses, whether for proms, pageants or weddings, a mention of her product meant everything in the world to a company. Lexi had a lot of power.
“No.” Zoe shook her head. “I want to earn this job without any favors. The president told me I’m golden. But this round of interviews is thanks to their new CEO.”
“So, who is the CEO of RC now?” Lexi asked. “Donovan?”
“No,” Zoe groaned. “His name is Will Ravens.”
“Wait, the soccer player?”
“No.” Zoe hummed a noise again, kicking out of her heels and footing them into the closet. “He’s the CEO. Donovan and Marcus introduced him to us.”
“Is he hot, like his brothers?” asked Lexi.
“Lexi!” Zoe gasped, wanting more than anything to elaborate on exactly how hot Will Ravens was. “You’re married with a baby on the way.”
“I’m married, not blind,” Lexi reminded her. “If it’s who I think it is, William Ravens played soccer and was hurt during a game. I want to say a broken leg.”
Slipping out of her skirt, Zoe padded barefoot into the bathroom. “Since when did you become the sports fan?”
“You can thank my beautiful husband for that.” Lexi giggled on the other end of the line. Zoe thought it was a nice laugh. She wanted something like that one day. A man who made her blush just by thinking of him. “I’m pretty sure he paused the match to show me the horrific leg break,” Lexi went on.
The corners of Zoe’s lips turned down. “Ouch. Well, this Will Ravens did not show signs of any leg injury.”
As a matter of fact, Zoe thought wantonly, she thought his strut was rather sexy. At least, she had when she thought he was simply a model. As a makeup artist, Zoe was constantly around handsome men. None of them ever had her wanting to jump in a cold shower. How was it going to work out when she got the job at RC? Zoe shrugged and pushed the thought out of her mind.
“Lexi, what was it you were going to ask me earlier?”
“Oh, that. I need you to come home for an event next week,” said Lexi. “I’m hosting the Miss Southwood Glitz Pageant and I need a nonbiased makeup artist. Please say you’ll come. I’ve booked up Magnolia Palace from Monday to next Sunday. All the judges and working staff will start coming in Tuesday. I want everyone to get to know each other so they can trust their opinions when it comes time to voting and making this the best pageant ever.”
The mere mention of the old hotel, Magnolia Palace, evoked a memory of Zoe’s youth. She closed her eyes and heard the sound of her bare feet pounding down the wooden planks as she raced to jump off the bridge. Her parents met on that same bridge. Her mother had been a model and her father out fishing. He’d certainly snagged the biggest catch of his life that day. “Now, how am I going to say no to an offer like that?”
“You’re not,” Lexi laughed.
“Since I won’t be starting my CDD position any time soon, I’ll be there. Text me the details.”
Zoe swiped her phone to the off screen and stood in the center of her bedroom, contemplating what to do next. She was hungry, but the recent talk of Will Ravens began to make her sweat—again. A shower would do her some good, then she’d eat the curry.
Fifteen minutes after her ice-cold shower, Zoe padded barefoot back into her kitchen and reheated her food. She’d slipped her cell phone into the front pocket of her fluffy pink bathrobe and felt it vibrate on her thigh as she sat at the counter.
You were great today. A decision will be made in a few weeks.
Zoe reread Marcus’s text message two more times. How was she supposed to go to bed tonight knowing she hadn’t secured the position of Creative Design Director? Her life was being held up by a man she knew nothing about. Where had he gone to school? Had he been a business major or something in the field of cosmetic chemistry? What had Lexi said? He’d played sports before deciding to join the family business? A feeling of dread sunk to the pit of her stomach at the thought of her life being upheld by an athlete. At least she knew that by the weekend she’d be back home in Southwood and away from the drama for a while.
* * *
Will didn’t look up from the rest of the portfolios after his brothers left to pick up dinner. In soccer he’d put in his time on the field and in the locker room. He spent more time on the field finessing his skills than in the club, like some of his teammates. Will knew the odds were against him. He had no training and no experience other than on the soccer field. Since coming to RC, Will couldn’t remember getting home before the sun set. Trudy’s, the West Indian market and restaurant down the block, saw more of him than his own kitchen.
The grandfather clock in the corner of the office chimed eight. A smile tugged at his mouth. When they were kids, he and his brothers used to play hide-and-seek on this floor of the building. Will’s favorite place was in here, where Grandpa Joe shared the office space with his wife. With a chuckle, Will realized why they’d shared an office. If Grandma was going to stay late at work, so was Grandpa. It must have been nice to have someone who stayed with you if you couldn’t get home on time.
Now that he wasn’t traveling full time or training, Will wondered if any of that would happen to him. Would he have someone to share office space with, or who would sit back with a knowing smile as his children played in here? Grandma Naomi was going on ninety. So far, her six children had blessed her with over a dozen grandchildren.
The stack of portfolios in front of him moved and the top folder shifted. A knock at his door sounded and brought Will out of his daze.
Through the glass door he spotted his identical twin cousins, Joyce and Naomi. Each was beautiful enough to be the face of RC. They were easily six feet tall, with high cheekbones and perfectly arched brows that they loved to raise at Will during their meetings whenever he asked a question about their marketing department. Will considered them allies in this war to dismantle RC. He waved them in.
Joyce, the older by seven minutes, sat down first in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Naomi, however, crossed the room to admire the photographs Will refused to throw away.
“What’s going on, ladies?”
“We have a great suggestion for you,” said Joyce.
Will sat back in his seat and silently prayed for Marcus and Donovan to return with dinner. Whatever the girls wanted from him, they’d decided to team up.
The reason they worked so well together was they were complete opposites. Joyce was more business oriented. Naomi was more of the partying type, ironic since she was their grandmother’s namesake. Joyce had more of the ninety-year-old woman’s personality, business first.
“Uh-oh, do I need reinforcements?” Will teased and pretended to pick up the black office phone on the corner of his desk. “Marcus and Donovan should be back any minute now.”
“What we are suggesting,” said Naomi from her corner of the room, “your brothers will wholeheartedly agree to, since it will be good for business.”
The deep breath he took brought in her coconut scent, a perfume he recognized from Ravens Cosmetics. “Alright.”
“With you coming on as the new CEO—”
“Coming on?” Will repeated, flabbergasted. “Why does everyone say that as if I had a choice? I believe the two of you were the first ones to second the nomination, knowing good and well I’m out of my league.”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “I would have nominated you first, but Charles beat me to it.”
“Anyway,” Naomi huffed. “If you are serious about turning things around, we think it would be a great idea for you to fly up to Southwood, Georgia, as our representative.”
“Where?” Will began flipping through the paperwork on his desk. His frat brother, Dominic Crowne, recently moved his luxury car business to a town with that name.
“Exactly,” said Joyce. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “I need you to be someplace out of your element. I want you to be a judge at this beauty pageant a business associate of RC’s is having.”
The only thing Will could think of was some guy in a tuxedo holding a long-stemmed microphone and singing to a crowned woman. “No.”
“Will,” Joyce and Naomi wailed.
“What do I know about beauty pageants?”
“You’re a guy, right?” Naomi asked, and answered without waiting for a response. “You just vote on who the prettiest is.”
Zoe Baldwin’s smiling face at the elevator popped into his mind. He’d already met the prettiest woman. “I don’t want to do it. Get Marcus or Donovan.”
“Seriously?” Naomi asked drily. “There’s a reason we’ve learned to knock on the office doors of your brothers. C’mon, Will. It’s important you make a name for yourself.”
“Look, Will,” Joyce snapped, “Ravens Cosmetics is the sponsor at this pageant every year. If you don’t do it, it will be someone like Charles or Brandon or even Dixon. You and I both know that isn’t what we need right now, especially with our other choices being your horndog brothers.”
“Seriously? Me?”
Joyce shrugged her shoulders. “Over the years, Lexi Reyes has been a great asset for Ravens Cosmetics.” She gave a brief history about their former beauty queen and her golden touch, and how the company had been sponsoring her pageants for years. This was the first Will had ever heard of it.
“And so, if you help Lexi out, it will give RC a platform to change the way some consumers see us—we’re not simply retro but classic, like you’ve suggested. Our brand will be the only one used for the pageant. Our gift bags of mascara, eye shadows and lotions will go to all the attendees. Do you know how many Southern women attend pageants? Our research shows most women below the Mason-Dixon Line aren’t interested in the avant-garde. We can tap into this community and save RC. And that’s what you claimed you wanted to do. Or was that a lie?”
“Hell, no.” Will slammed his hand on the top of the portfolios. “I don’t care what our cousins think. RC is not dead.” Will’s gut twisted with doubt. The twins made a great point. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in determination. RC was not dead and had another hundred years left. He didn’t want to risk ignoring a potential market. But a beauty pageant? He hated himself for being suckered in. “Okay, fine, send me the information. What night do I have to be there?”
“Well, here’s the thing,” Naomi started. “In order for you to be there and be able to mesh with the other judges, you need to be there for maybe a week.”
“What?” Will exclaimed.
Joyce held her hands up to calm him down. “It won’t be that bad.”
“I just started here last month. I don’t have a week to give.” He calculated the forty-plus hours a week he’d already been putting in and knew that time was still not enough. His cousins would be hovering like vultures if he left his throne for more than a few days.
“Think about how committed the family will see you are if you take the time to represent our products.”
She had to go there. Will’s weakness. His family’s legacy was his kryptonite. Sales were down. People were losing interest in Ravens Cosmetics. They wanted something fresh and new. Well, if anyone could go to this Southwood and turn things around, it was him. “When do I leave?”
* * *
Armed with a suitcase filled with cosmetics, Zoe checked her bags at the counter at Miami International Airport on Tuesday morning and got herself cleared through security. If she was lucky, her plane would be there, allowing her to board.
This wasn’t her first trip on a plane. She knew it was best to take a change of clothes in her carry-on. No matter how long or short the flight, Zoe always showered after traveling. For this two-hour flight, Zoe dressed in a pair of comfy boyfriend jeans, worn white canvas shoes and her favorite loose T-shirt, bedazzled in pink with Wear More Mascara across the chest. As she rounded the corner toward her terminal, she realized she had no such luck. And every seat in the waiting area was taken. Children pressed their faces against the windows, smudging the glass with their sticky hands as they watched the other planes taking off.