Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

complete with creative and production departments, strategic market planning, and media buying. But digital and social media still remained at the core of Hawk’s services.
    Today’s meeting involved a tech giant ready to roll out its latest technology in just eight months, which put Hawk Media under the gun to plan and implement the campaign for its launch two months earlier in order to stimulate anticipation in their users and users-to-be.
    An existing account, the agency had gigabytes of analytics on the company, so it was a matter of defining the message, creating the collateral and the print and digital ads, and buying the media.
    Nathan needed to get his head in the game, but his mind kept drifting to that morning’s sidewalk encounter. Who was she? What did she do? Where did she live? Was she single? Married? Maybe she was a lesbian. He frowned at either possibility.
    “Nathan? Did you have an issue with the latest timeline?”
    He glanced up to see Pramod standing in front of the digital white board, a perplexed look on his face. “Hmm? Oh. No. It’s fine, why?”
    “You had a frown on your face.”
    Chagrin washed over him. “Oh. It’s nothing. Sorry. Please continue.”
    “Right.”
    Get it together, Nathan. Hawk Media didn’t hire you to daydream about women. Well, not women, but one woman in particular. One woman who’d left a definite impression after such a brief encounter.
    “Talk tome,” Laura said as soon as Katie answered the phone.
    “First, how’d it go?”
    “I wouldn’t be asking for numbers if I didn’t need them.”
    “Hot damn.”
    “And I think I might have a date with Jackson Junior.”
    “No shit?” Katie laughed. “I so want to be you.”
    “So, talk numbers to me, baby.” Laura dodged harried pedestrians, as she listened to Katie’s rundown on Imperial Cruise Lines.
    “The average income of the cruise line’s customers is five hundred K. Average age is between forty-five and sixty-five, so you’re about fifteen years early to the party, which is good, since word is that’s the demographic they’re looking to entice.”
    “That’s what Jackson said. Perfect,” Laura interjected.
    “I’ve been poking around on their website, and boy, Imperial doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to pampering its guests with all-suite, all-veranda staterooms, five-star dining, a spa that puts Guerlain to shame—not that I’ve been there mind you, but I’ve drooled over pictures—staterooms that offer elegant furnishings, Bang & Olufson sound systems, fresh flowers daily, and Egyptian cotton linens. But they really need to update to responsive formatting for their website.”
    Laura flipped through the rather pedestrian, traditional brochure she’d picked up, as she walked along East Seventy-Sixth Street toward her office building. Ignoring the need for updated collateral, she skimmed the contents. She knew Imperial catered to those with discerning tastes and the money to appease those tastes, but she didn’t expect to be so . . . wowed by the line’s luxurious offerings. After all, she’d stayed in her fair share of five-star hotels and resorts around the world.
    Turning down Madison Avenue, she told herself to look away from the Louboutin store window. Since when did I ever do what I was told?
    “Holy crap! You should see this penthouse stateroom,” Katie continued. “The bathroom is bigger than my apartment. The ship is like a floating Four Seasons. No, it’s like a floating Four Seasons on crack.”
    At Laura’s silence, Katie prodded, “Are you listening to me, or are you standing in front of the Louboutin window drooling?”
    “No. Okay, yes. But they have this pair of hot pink satin pumps. And I swear they’re calling my name.”
    “You and your shoes. Focus, Imelda.”
    “Right. I have enough shoes anyway. Said no one. Ever.” If there was one thing that could distract her, it was shoes, of the über expensive variety. Well, that and a hot