Adam shook his head. “Not with this. It’s only going to get worse. I have a few suggestions on what to tweak, Frannie. I know you’re busy so I can work with Layla and get it handled.”
“No problem,” Layla said. “I can make the time.”
I hesitated. I was already overworked and overscheduled. I should just let Adam and Layla take care of it, but the Dallas Jeans ad was something I’d helped create. If it bombed, I needed to be involved in fixing it. “No, I can work with you.”
Kate blinked. “What about Lexi’s Lemonade? We don’t want to get behind. It may be better to let them handle it, Frannie.”
I squared my shoulders. “I know the client best, including Perry’s preferences. I’ll stay late a few nights and knock it out.”
Kate and Layla shared a glance but held their tongues. They’d been pushing for more control, advising me to hire more people and to work lead on fewer clients. I knew they were trying to help and that they craved more responsibility, but I still had an uneasy feeling that if I stepped back too much, they’d eventually decide they didn’t need me.
I tamped down on the tiny flicker of fear coursing through my bloodstream. That annoying, buzzing voice whispering the million ways I could fail. My entire reputation was based on running F&F Advertising and thriving at every level. I’d finally managed to secure some national-brand clients and needed to show they’d made the right decision in placing their dollars with a smaller firm.
Why did it feel like the entire world was waiting for me to fail? Successful women were still looked upon as dangerous, and one big mistake was gleefully gossiped about, with news of it spreading like wildfire.
I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “Now, let’s get to work,” I said firmly.
They didn’t protest.
* * *
* * *
Hours later, I collapsed in my office and buzzed Jessica. “Any messages?” I asked.
She rattled off a few I could put off until tomorrow. “Your mother called twice. Said you’d promised to call her back.”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. “I forgot, thanks. Go on home. Thanks for staying.”
“No problem. Have a good night, Frannie.”
My stomach growled. I reached inside my desk drawer and nibbled on a Kind bar. Better get it over with. I dialed my mom’s number.
“Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“You never called me back.” Her voice held a slight sting designed to instill guilt. It worked. “You weren’t at Allegra’s track meet.”
Shit.
My daughter’s schedule was as jam-packed as mine, with tennis matches and races across the county. I’d missed the last few and swore I’d be there for the invitational. Her time was stellar and she had a good chance at getting a scholarship for both her running and her grades. This meet had been key. “I’m sorry,” I said with a sigh. “We had a crisis here at work, and I literally just got to my office. Why didn’t she call or text me?”
“Because she wanted you to remember on your own.”
The whiplash of guilt stung deeper. Another test I’d failed. How could I be a rock star at my job and such a loser at home? “What was her time?”
“I forgot but I wrote it down for you. She beat her record in the eight hundred and got a medal for first in the fifteen hundred.”
Pride flashed through me. “That’s amazing. Is she there with you?”
“No, she went home on her own. But I wanted to invite you both to dinner this week. Allegra wants to try out a new dish and we’ve had no family time together. How about Wednesday?”
I closed my eyes, resenting the requests she threw at me. She had nothing on her schedule and assumed I should jump at any invitation. “I can’t, Mom. I’ve got a hell of a week coming up with this new campaign, and I need to work late.”
An impatient sigh huffed over the line. My nerves prickled with annoyance. “Again? This is a difficult year for Allegra, and she needs you home, at least for dinner. Plus, I can’t freeze the grass-fed beef since it’s been in the refrigerator and I got it specifically for you. It’s expensive.”
“Then make it for yourself, Mom. It has less hormones so it’s better for your health.”
Mom snorted. “I’m too old to care what I eat anymore. Why can’t you come home and eat like a normal person, then go back to