The Delivery Girl

40. Late

Callen

Just as I'm about to leave my office, Hayley calls me.

"Callen, I have Stacy Kerning on the line."

Fuck. I turn the lights back on and walk over to my desk. "Can you ask her to call back tomorrow? I'm about to head out." I check the time. My dinner reservation with Julie is at seven, a little less than an hour away.

"Sorry, I tried but she demanded to talk to you right now." There's a brief pause. "We both know you're in trouble if you don't respond asap."

I groan and slump back down into my chair. As my finger hovers over the button, I pray this will be quick.

Though there's the looming feeling that I'm about to get myself into some deep shit.

I send Julie a text.

Callen: Sorry, something came up at work. I might be a little late.

Julie: No problem, I'll just meet you at the restaurant.

"Transfer her, please."

I wait. "Mrs. Kerning, how are you?" I keep my tone bright but professional.

"Callen Sterling," her tone is cool but clipped with irritation. "I just saw the photos for the cover of my magazine your team sent over, and I have to say, I'm very disappointed."

"My apologies Mrs. Kerning, let me pull those up." I quickly search through our drive and find the folder. The photos are of three models posing in front of enormous, blue flower arrangements that we could barely get in through the studio's door. "May I ask what the issue is?"

"It's November – the flowers should be cool toned for winter. These are warm." Her voice sharpens. I can tell she's quickly becoming impatient. "This is not what I wanted."

I drag my hand through my hair. "Mrs. Kerning, my photographer sent a photo of the flowers to your team before she started the shoot." I try to keep my tone as polite as humanly possible. "We received full approval."

"Are you calling me a liar?" she snaps, raising her voice.

I muffle my groan into my fist. We can't afford to lose one of our biggest clients. Fifteen percent of our projected revenue this year is supposed to come from Stacy Kerning and her network. Losing that much definitely means budget cuts on equipment, or even worse, laying off some of the team.

"Of course not," I say. "We can redo the shoot with the correct flowers first thing tomorrow morning."

"That won't do, our designer needs the photos by tonight," she says before sighing. "Sterling Studios normally produces such excellent work... your father never would have let something like this happen."

I grit my teeth. "Ok, we can edit the flowers in post."

"I...suppose that would be fine. Get one of your editors to do it."

I check the time, everyone should have already left by now. I should have left by now. "My apologies Mrs. Kerning, but they're off for the day. I can do it for you."

I'm formally educated and experienced in photography editing, but it's been years since I've actually done it.

"Hm... you can, but I'd prefer if you had one of your editors work on it as well, just in case I want a backup option," she says. "Just call one of them to come back."

I can't help but wonder what sort of hours her team works. I never contact my team outside working hours, but I'm incredibly desperate. I look at the time again. My heart pounds, knowing I'm rapidly running out of time – caught between two impossible pulls