“So Calvanti didn’t hire me for my name.”

His dark eyes glowed. His lips twitched. He glanced behind him at his daughters and then back at her. “Not entirely.”

Not good enough. Her eyebrow lifted.

Marco muttered something beneath his breath. “Okay, they were lucky to get you, and it has nothing to do with the d’Angelo name. You’re good. Very, very good. But you would have been great here.”

Was that regret in his voice? Had there perhaps been more opportunity, more possibility here in Milan with Marco than she’d thought? Could it have worked out between them differently?

“What’s your target market?” Payton asked, needing to know since she hadn’t read the market report.

“Twenties and thirties.”

“The young adult.” Payton studied the storyboard again. “The colors are right, and the red dress is beautiful—”

“It’s vintage d’Angelo,” Marco interjected.

“Yes, I know. It’s your father’s first signature gown.” Payton looked up at him and grinned a little. “I could tell you everything about your father. I’ve studied his work for years.”

“So how do we save this ad before I lose fifty thousand dollars?”

“Well, your model looks positively sleepy here.” She tapped the artist’s drawing. “Worse, she’s bored. You’re not selling perfume to old ladies. You’re selling to modern women who want excitement and adventure.”

“What do we change?”

“A little bit of everything. I think you can still use the same set, as well as the vintage d’Angelo gown. The ruby color is perfect, red is timeless and it’s always modern, but take the gloves off the model and for heaven’s sake, get her off the couch.”

“That’s it,” Marco said, turning and gesturing to Maria, his fragrance director. “Right, we’re going to make some changes,” he told his team. “Get the stylist, and the art director. Payton will explain what she wants to do.”

Payton explained her vision for the ad.

When she finished Maria squinted at the set. “I don’t see it,” she said shortly. “I don’t understand how a girl dancing is going to make this ad work.”

“It’s my money,” Marco said with a shrug. “Let’s give it a shot and see.”

Payton glanced behind her at the twins, saw that they’d grown irritable and fidgety. “I think the girls are getting tired.”

“You’re right. We’ve tried their patience, haven’t we?” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll have Pietra come with the driver and take them home. Pietra’s a former preschool teacher that I’ve hired while you’re here. Friends have used her and say she’s wonderful. I think you’ll like her.”

A half hour later Pietra arrived for the girls and she’d brought along a cookie for each and some coloring books.