I gulp, feeling seriously intimidated. “Thanks.”

He looks over. “Are you OK?”

I nod quickly, not wanting to see like a total rube. “Yes. Well, a little overwhelmed.”

He chuckles. “This is the fun part. You drove a hard bargain on your side of the deal,” he adds with a grin. “But now you’ll have the funds you need to really take things to the next level. We should be celebrating.”

“Yes. Of course,” I smile, putting my nerves aside. Because he’s right: this is a huge deal for me, the jump-start I’ve been dreaming about. “I’m just a little spacey today, that’s all. I am excited, really.”

Dash raises his cup of sake. “To the future of makeup.”

“To the future,” I agree, excited again.

We spend the rest of lunch going over some of the business details, and I return to Fleishman’s with a million details spinning in my head.

“Where’s Dashford?” Gregory is waiting at my makeup counter when I return. He looks around, disappointed. “I was going to show him the fall ready-to-wear.”

“He… had to get to an appointment,” I say, moving to my spot—but Gregory blocks my way.

“Now that you’re back, I think we need to go over some basics again.”

My heart sinks. “I’ve been working here for two years,” I point out.

“Yes. And I think you’ve forgotten your place in the food chain.” Gregory says, all superior. “Which is behind that counter, helping clients buy what they need, not what you think. Nobody cares about your opinions, you’re here to sell product, nothing more.”

I feel a surge of exhilaration.

“You’re right,” I say slowly.

Gregory sighs. “Of course I am.”

“Which is why I quit.”

His jaw drops. “What?”

“I have better things to do than stand here all day, selling overpriced junk to women who think a flashy price tag and celebrity endorsement means quality product,” I tell him, my blood singing. “I have an empire to build.”

Then I wiggle my fingers at a gobsmacked Lorelei, mouth “talk to you later,” and waltz out of the store.

Dash was right: I’m the boss now, and it’s time I started acting like it.

17

Callie

The next few days pass in a whirlwind of activity. If I’m going to launch my business as a real, legit company, then I have a to-do list a mile long—and only so many hours in the day. I’ve been trying to source ingredients, explore packaging options… I even sat down with one of the accountants Dash recommended, to start the process of incorporation, which involved way too many official looking documents spread over a desk in the fanciest office I’ve ever seen.

“Well, what do we think?”

I turn a slow tour of my potential new laboratory, an empty industrial space in a converted warehouse on the edge of Brooklyn. Huge windows flood the room in light, and it used to be set up as some kind of food-prep space, so there are already big benches, a wall of sinks, and tons of shelving.