She nodded harder and turned to go.

“Did I dismiss you?”

As a kid, Jules had played a game called Freeze, where you put your body in awkward poses until the designated person called, “Freeze!” then held still in whatever position you were in for as long as you could, and the first to fall over lost.

It was like she was playing it all over again, as she stopped in place, half-turned away from Vivian with one foot in the air. “No?” she ventured.

“No. This needs fixing as soon as possible, and I need you to take notes.” She placed her hands to either side of the spread and looked it over with a frown.

Jules pivoted and came to stand across the desk from Vivian, tablet and stylus at the ready. Hands steady, girl. Keep it cool.

For long moments, Vivian remained silent as she looked over the spread. Jules couldn’t help thinking of an orchestra conductor examining the musicians before raising the baton.

“We need a complete do-over,” Vivian said eventually. “Simon convinced me to greenlight it, but if this is the best we can do, then Romantic Winter is the wrong concept.”

“You want a do-over?” Jules squeaked. “As in…”

“As in a new concept. New sketches. New photo shoot. And we have to do it fast.”

“Won’t that be expensive?”

She didn’t even dignify that with a response, just picked up the large sheet of paper and ripped it in two, right down the middle.

“Mallory was on to something with ‘edgy,’” she continued. “That’s a meaningless concept, but we’ll define it. I’m thinking…” She trailed off and stuck her tongue in her cheek as she looked into the distance.

“We’ll combine ‘edgy’ with intimate,” she finally said.

Those don’t seem to go together. She couldn’t help picturing two people cuddling while holding knives. Why did Vivian want something like that?

As if Jules had spoken aloud, Vivian said, “I want the spread to hold two ideas that seem contradictory but work in harmony. Not compromise”—she said that like it was the dirtiest word she’d ever heard—“but completion.”

“I can message the creative team to brainstorm and—”

“Nothing as clichéd as a snowfall or a ski lodge,” Vivian mused as if Jules hadn’t spoken. “Definitely not a cozy cabin. We need a contrast. Something startling, something unexpected.”

Jules tried to think of somewhere cold that wouldn’t be a total cliché. “Maybe something like a snowy field under a gray sky?”

Vivian held up her hand. “I said unexpected. Although a snowy field’s an improvement on the cabin.”

Not much of one, she didn’t add, but she didn’t have to.

“Right,” Jules mumbled, face burning hotter than ever as she took notes. Unexpected. Contrast. Intimate/Edgy.