Xavier strode into the room with a command reserved for those with rich, blue bloodlines and old wealth. He sat, greeted those around the table, and then sat back as François continued. For the next thirty minutes, those around the table provided their newest member with a snapshot of their responsibilities and how they felt the magazine was currently positioned in the publishing world. Dominique’s presentation was strong. She purposely kept the focus squarely on Capricious instead of herself, spouting off facts and figures from memory and sharing her well-researched thoughts on what she felt was the right path for Capricious to follow from here on out. “The average woman in America is still a size 12,” she finished, glad to see that she had everyone’s undivided attention. Even François looked on with what appeared to be sincere interest. “Most women are not A-list celebrities and do not come from great wealth. Which is why I believe that while continuing to woo the big names for covers and lead stories, an emphasized focus on the average American woman—the working girl, single mother, married stay-at-home mom juggling four kids and the like—will help us keep the readers we now have and increase awareness of our brand into the breadbasket of America, and beyond.”

“I disagree,” François countered. “The woman washing clothes or changing diapers does not want to read about someone else’s equally dull life. She wants fantasy, an escape from the mundane. Yes, she appreciates seeing a woman on the page who looks like her but she doesn’t care about her.” He smiled warmly at Daniela. “Ms. Amato has brought to my attention a bright idea, one that would take Capricious in the direction of, say, a glossy, upscale, classy version of the celebrity-driven tabloid magazine: beautiful big people, lots of gossip, and our continued commitment to fashion, nutrition, and exercise. I would add that in light of today’s economic climate we scale back the number of pages in the magazine and reduce the price by one dollar. We’d sell more when people pay less and believe that the latest scoop on their favorite TV star awaits them between our pages.” When François finished, his face was flushed red with excitement. He turned to Xavier, his eyes filled with anticipation of the praise that he expected. “What do you think, Mr. Marquis?”