Transparency Charles Royce (phonics reader .TXT) 📖

on my arm. Jenna was looking up at me with her soul-piercing brown eyes, her dark hair perfectly positioned around her shoulders.

Jenna and I had known each other since we started our first job in publishing on the same day at the same company eight years ago. We’d met in orientation, both feeling an instant connection, lifelong from the start. Now that we were each thirty-four years old, we worked for competing publishing companies, with a vow to never let business interfere with our beautiful, dysfunctional, Will and Grace–style relationship.

Josh and Jenna. Friends always address us with a perpetual rolling of the eyes.

“I mean, Josh, look around you,” Jenna said. “Over there. Meryl Streep, Bradley Cooper. Augustine Trudeau? How’d you get the entire A-list to come to your party? Cooper Harlow is gonna flip.”

“There will be no talk of Cooper Harlow tonight,” I said. “This is about Élan.”

“No competition talk. Got it.”

“Your left boob is about to pop out of that dress.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Jenna took her right hand and resituated her bosom. “Gonna run to the bathroom and fix this. These.”

I nodded and continued through the crowd alone, chatting with celebrities I recognized, making sure they knew they were seen and appreciated. I then walked down the large staircase that connected the “meet-and-greet landing” to the “party pit,” two terms I’d concocted to help with event flow.

Just above the music and spirited strum of the gathering crowd, I noticed determined footsteps growing louder from behind. Suddenly a man with wavy blonde hair bumped into me somewhat forcefully. I grabbed the stair rail to keep myself from falling. I looked to see if I recognized the man.

Yep. Micah. Micah Breuer.

I wasn’t surprised. As you know very well, Shawn, Micah was the husband of Lennox Holcomb, Vice President of Finance at Élan. But to me, Lenny was the tall handsome man with whom I’d fallen in love during a brief but intimate affair just two years prior while working on a big-budget project together.

Anyway, I sloughed off Micah’s purposeful, childlike jab.

Nothing could taint this night.

I continued through the crowd in the party pit, nervously running my fingers through what Jenna calls my Matthew McConaughey hair. I was a bit nauseous, approaching freak-out mode. This was a huge night not only for me, but my company as well. After all, I’m the executive creative director at Élan International, the hugely successful New York–based consumer publishing house that had recently grown to surpass the magazine giant Cooper Harlow.

The media had coined the moniker “Pub War,” describing the all-out catfight between two publishing giants, Élan International and Cooper Harlow. Élan’s women’s fashion magazine Alta had eclipsed Cooper Harlow’s iconic Voire. Élan’s flagship men’s publication, aptly named Élan, had risen so much in international popularity that its subscription base and advertising revenue was now greater than HQ, Press and J’Sais combined. The publishing business aside, both companies were now in an all-out war to purchase other giant media companies to grow their empires.

In the Pub War era, I hoped this event would reflect that Élan was winning.

“Josh Harrison, there you are! I have someone I’d like you to meet.” James West, Élan’s CEO, the man ultimately responsible for the organization’s dramatic success, approached me. James West had lured me from Cooper Harlow with a salary and bonus package in the mid-sixfigure range and tailored a creative position to perfectly suit my talents. It was an offer I couldn’t have refused.

“Josh, I’d like you to meet Miss Trudeau,” he said.

“Oh, you need no introduction, I’m a huge fan of your films. Congrats on your third Oscar.” I shook Augustine Trudeau’s hand. “I always said if my mom’s prayers for a straight son were ever answered, you’d be the first woman I’d go for.”

My inappropriate comment came out before I could filter.

“Thank you, I get that a lot. But from the looks of it, you’re doing just fine.” Augustine smiled and looked at Jenna, who’d just returned from securing her boobs.

“This is my beautiful friend Jenna Ancelet,” I said. “She used to work for Lennox Holcomb, vice president of finance here at Élan, before she was lured away by that awful Cooper Harlow.”

“Cooper who?” Augustine laughed at her own joke, meant specifically to make James West gush. “Are all of Élan’s employees this gorgeous?”

“You too!” Jenna said.

Leave it to Jenna to get her reactions confused. I almost choked on my drink.

“Josh is responsible for the creative execution of tonight’s events,” James West said. “His concept, start to finish. He’s one of our brightest here.”

“Well, Josh,” Augustine said, “it’s amazing.”

“Thank you; wait until you see the grand-opening party next year. I’ve got some big ideas I’d love to talk with you about. A change in focus. A benefit for the cause of your choosing.”

“Anything to shift the focus to something that matters,” Augustine said. “Thank you, I can put you in touch with my manager.”

“Mr. West here is the one who ultimately needs to give the greenlight.” I patted West on the shoulder. “We want to celebrate what y’all do in real life, so if we can work together, the ‘thank you’ would be very much … reciprocal. Right, Mr. West?”

“You guys have a great evening.” James escorted Augustine toward the VIP reception area.

“Really nice meeting you both,” Augustine added as she walked away.

“Reciprocal?” Jenna asked out of the side of her mouth.

“You too!” I replied.

“Not sure about this music, Josh.” Jenna walked beside me, then spotted a cockeyed flower arrangement. “Or the flowers.”

“Shocking.”

“I’m sure you saw Micah. He told me he bumped into—”

“Jenna, let’s not.”

“Okay, okay, God, you two are like oil and water.”

“Good job on the metaphor.”

“Hey, do you see Tracy anywhere?”

“No, I don’t. She’s coming, right?” I scanned the crowd. “She should be here by now.”

“I’m gonna call her.” Jenna maneuvered through the crowd as she pulled her phone from her Chanel clutch.

C h a p t e r   1 0

“SERIOUSLY, JOSH, IS there a point to this story?” Shawn leans back, sighs. “I’m