thought. Then his gaze snapped to me.
“The reason Marketing is floundering right now?” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. I could only nod in agreement. “The reason you have your numerous meetings and nothing ever seems to get done is that your department is the communication wing of the company. We can’t go through a redesign when there is no new vision, no new direction.”
“And you’re not sure what direction you want to go.”
He nodded.
“I get involved in the space industry, it’s a whole different beast. New suppliers, new factories, new competitors. And what about the old operations? If I keep them, Hartmann Enterprises will expand. Can Hartmann Enterprises expand? Do I want to devote myself to doing that? Or do I want to sell?”
I understood suddenly just what crossroads he was at. At thirty-one and successful, with his partners retiring around him, Daniel knew he could do the same. Would I ever be so successful that I’d have to make a choice like this? A decision where other people’s jobs were at stake?
“Are there any other choices?”
“Like what?” He seemed interested, curious, and the attention encouraged me.
“Like selling and not starting a new company?”
He laughed, and the mirth reached his eyes. I couldn’t help admiring him physically, and wishing, despite the seriousness of our conversation, that I could curl up in his lap. Or maybe it was that the intensity of it was turning me on again. His brain was as hot as his body.
“You think I’d be happy living an idle life, visiting friends on their yachts?”
I laughed. No way. Daniel Hartmann worked hard and played hard.
But I was devil’s advocate here.
“Are there any other investment possibilities? Why take such a huge leap into another industry?”
He nodded again, but as he looked away the excitement seemed to dim from his face and I knew then the decision had been made, even if he hadn’t realized it yet.
“He’s a lucky kid,” I said, feeling a little bit of the surge of energy that Daniel must get planning his new direction.
Daniel’s eyes flickered up to mine. “He’s only a year younger than you.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to do with that, how to reassure us that what we were doing together was OK. But as much as he kept reminding us of the disparity, age wasn’t the problem at all. Maybe nothing was.
There was so much that was right between us—at this moment, in this summer—as if fate had concocted the past just to make
us
happen. I slanted my smile at him, sliding off from my perch on his table. He watched me approach, a different sort of interest awakening in his gaze.
“Yes, Daniel, you are definitely a cradle robber.”
• • •
Electrified was a dark pit of a club in the basement of an Irish bar. As I made my way down the winding staircase, splattered glow-in-the-dark paint decorated the walls and gave some sense of what the club would be like on any other night.
However, someone had decided to lay some art direction on the place as well as a video installation. Organic, mushroom-like shapes pulsed on the walls, and colorful, furry, eight-by-ten cloth backdrops broke up the space as if they were trying to bring a raver vibe to the live music scene. To make instant multi-platform art. But to me, the room felt like a gallery rather than a music venue, and it squashed the energy I’d always liked about the band’s music. Additionally, it had nothing to do with the album cover, so there was no brand continuity.
There was also a graffiti wall, outfitted with cans of spray paint, which took away from the focus that should be on the stage. It made sense for maybe an outdoor summer music festival or something like that, but not this small venue.
The design had all the hallmarks of something Craig, my ex-boyfriend, would concoct. Our relationship had fizzled for more than one reason, not least because he had jumped off the LSD deep end. I hoped the mushroom
“The reason Marketing is floundering right now?” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. I could only nod in agreement. “The reason you have your numerous meetings and nothing ever seems to get done is that your department is the communication wing of the company. We can’t go through a redesign when there is no new vision, no new direction.”
“And you’re not sure what direction you want to go.”
He nodded.
“I get involved in the space industry, it’s a whole different beast. New suppliers, new factories, new competitors. And what about the old operations? If I keep them, Hartmann Enterprises will expand. Can Hartmann Enterprises expand? Do I want to devote myself to doing that? Or do I want to sell?”
I understood suddenly just what crossroads he was at. At thirty-one and successful, with his partners retiring around him, Daniel knew he could do the same. Would I ever be so successful that I’d have to make a choice like this? A decision where other people’s jobs were at stake?
“Are there any other choices?”
“Like what?” He seemed interested, curious, and the attention encouraged me.
“Like selling and not starting a new company?”
He laughed, and the mirth reached his eyes. I couldn’t help admiring him physically, and wishing, despite the seriousness of our conversation, that I could curl up in his lap. Or maybe it was that the intensity of it was turning me on again. His brain was as hot as his body.
“You think I’d be happy living an idle life, visiting friends on their yachts?”
I laughed. No way. Daniel Hartmann worked hard and played hard.
But I was devil’s advocate here.
“Are there any other investment possibilities? Why take such a huge leap into another industry?”
He nodded again, but as he looked away the excitement seemed to dim from his face and I knew then the decision had been made, even if he hadn’t realized it yet.
“He’s a lucky kid,” I said, feeling a little bit of the surge of energy that Daniel must get planning his new direction.
Daniel’s eyes flickered up to mine. “He’s only a year younger than you.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to do with that, how to reassure us that what we were doing together was OK. But as much as he kept reminding us of the disparity, age wasn’t the problem at all. Maybe nothing was.
There was so much that was right between us—at this moment, in this summer—as if fate had concocted the past just to make
us
happen. I slanted my smile at him, sliding off from my perch on his table. He watched me approach, a different sort of interest awakening in his gaze.
“Yes, Daniel, you are definitely a cradle robber.”
• • •
Electrified was a dark pit of a club in the basement of an Irish bar. As I made my way down the winding staircase, splattered glow-in-the-dark paint decorated the walls and gave some sense of what the club would be like on any other night.
However, someone had decided to lay some art direction on the place as well as a video installation. Organic, mushroom-like shapes pulsed on the walls, and colorful, furry, eight-by-ten cloth backdrops broke up the space as if they were trying to bring a raver vibe to the live music scene. To make instant multi-platform art. But to me, the room felt like a gallery rather than a music venue, and it squashed the energy I’d always liked about the band’s music. Additionally, it had nothing to do with the album cover, so there was no brand continuity.
There was also a graffiti wall, outfitted with cans of spray paint, which took away from the focus that should be on the stage. It made sense for maybe an outdoor summer music festival or something like that, but not this small venue.
The design had all the hallmarks of something Craig, my ex-boyfriend, would concoct. Our relationship had fizzled for more than one reason, not least because he had jumped off the LSD deep end. I hoped the mushroom
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