Her eyes went wide in horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she quickly blurted out.

“Forget it.”

“But I ruined your suit.” She could only imagine how much it had cost.

“I said to forget it.”

How was she supposed to hang on to her moral outrage when he was being a gentleman?

“It’s more than just a good shampoo,” he said. “It’s about relating to your customers. Having your customers relate to you.”

She started up the ladder.

“They relate to Chantal in a particular way,” he said. “They see her look as an idealized version of themselves. These are people that put great stock in the value of beauty products to their lives, and they want to know that you put great stock in them, as well.”

“You’re suggesting I could replace an MBA and eight years of experience with a good makeover?”

What kind of a man would think that?

“Yes,” he said.

She stopped. She couldn’t believe he’d actually said it out loud.

“But,” he continued. “I’m also suggesting you’ll blow the competition out of the water when you have both.”

“You think Chantal is my competition?”

“I think Roger thinks she’s your competition. I think you could do a makeover with your eyes closed. And I think she’s only a threat to you if you let her be a threat to you.”

“So I’m choosing to have this happen?”

All she’d ever done was her job. She’d shown up early every day for eight years. She’d written speeches and press releases, planned events, supported her coworkers, solved problems and taken the message of Lush Beauty far and wide. If her performance evaluations were anything to go by, she’d been more than successful in her role as PR manager.

“You’re choosing not to fight it,” said Hunter.

“I shouldn’t have to fight it.” When had hard work and success stopped being enough?

“Too bad. So sad. Are you going to let her win?” He paused. “Do you want your career path to end?”