What a Girl Wants by Kate Perry Page A

portfolio down on the only bit of surface that was free. He took out a packet and handed it to her. “I put this together yesterday. Take a look. I did some brand and market share analysis. I made some social media goals as well as some magazines and TV shows I’d like to target.”
    For a second, she got caught up in his voice, its timber striking a chord deep inside her.
    But then the thick sheath of papers he arranged on the table distracted her. She sat down at the table, staring. “What is all this?”
    “A breakdown of your demographic”—he pulled out a chair and joined her—“and a comprehensive list of your competitors and what their strengths are, as far as I can tell. But I’m not in your demographic, so you’d be a better judge. I also printed out some examples of successful brands that have interesting correlations to yours. I thought we’d see what we could borrow and adapt.”
    “You did all of this?” she asked, staring at the thick sheath of papers. She flipped through it, gaping when she saw how thorough it all was.
    “It’s just a quick snapshot. I need to do more in-depth research once we determine what the long-term picture is.” He stretched his arms overhead, his biceps straining his shirt. “But since our goal is to get distributed at Whole Foods—”
    “That’s not my goal.” All thoughts of his yummy arms fled as she gripped the piece of paper, her muscles clenching at the thought of something so big. Something so big had the potential to collapse unless it was fed right; she’d listened to her dad and Belle enough to know that much.
    “True,” he conceded. “It’s Edward’s goal.”
    “And my dad is delusional.” She stared at him. “Say it with me. Edward Warren is delusional.”
    “Edward Warren is delusional,” Sebastian repeated dutifully. He shrugged. “Except he’s not, because getting into Whole Foods is a worthy goal.”
    “But it’s not what I want.”
    “Then tell me what you want,” he said with patience.
    She waved her hand to encompass her studio. “I have what I want.”
    He looked around her place. “This is it? You wouldn’t rather have a real storefront to work out of instead of your living room? You wouldn’t want a bigger place, or a real bedroom?”
    A separate bedroom. . . . She sighed at the thought of such a luxury. She wouldn’t have to make her bed every day like she had to with the futon. “I still don’t want the sort of world domination Edward envisions.”
    “Why not?” He held his hand up to forestall any argument. “I just want to understand.”
    “What world leader is ever happy?” she murmured, overwhelmed.
    “I can’t argue with that.” His chair creaked as he teetered on the back two legs. “That doesn’t change Edward’s point of view.”
    “Dad’s point of view is skewed since he’s retired.” She folded her arms. “Don’t tell me you do everything your dad tells you to do.”
    “My dad doesn’t try to run my life, because he’s gone,” Sebastian said, setting his chair flat on the floor. “I think I’d happily endure his meddling if he were alive again, but maybe I’m wrong.”
    She blinked. Open mouth, insert foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
    He smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “It was a long time ago. They were all I had though, and sometimes that hits me hard.”
    Her parents were all she had, too. She tried to picture them not being around but it was impossible. “You have your cousins in London now.”
    “I do,” he said, lighting up. “I’ve been staying with them to get to know them the past few months.”
    “Are they very posh?” she joked, angling away from the business on the table and toward him.
    “Actually, they are.” He mirrored her pose. “They grew up nobility. Impoverished, because their father was an ass, but nobility nonetheless.”
    “I wonder what that’s like.”
    He shrugged. “It’s not really anything.”
    “You say that like you