AD-versaries (3 page)

6

            “Here’s some coffee for you.” 

            Although she hadn’t drunk anything the previous night, Victoria didn’t get any sleep either.  Every time she dozed off, her subconscious treated her to a slide show of how life would be for her when ATA finally closed its doors for good.  Unwilling to dwell on those sorts of defeatist thoughts, she instead spent her evening playing solitaire on the computer and looking up recipes with unique ingredients like opossum and durian fruit.

            But Sarah was ready for anything.  Knowing her friend and predicting the sleepless night, she had brewed an especially potent pot of coffee that morning and had stopped on her way to work to buy Victoria’s favorite creamer, International Delight’s Salted Caramel Mocha.  Needless to say, Victoria was enraptured by the thoughtful surprise and grateful to God for bringing Sarah into her life. 

            “Thank you, Sarah.  I needed this this morning.”

            “I figured you wouldn’t be able to leave well-enough alone until morning, so I thought you could use a cup of cheer-me-up.”

            “I had some pretty terrible dreams last night.  I couldn’t stop thinking about us being homeless.  I know it sounds stupid, but I really do wonder if it’s about time to start thinking about a career change.”

            Sarah didn’t have a chance to respond as the intercom buzzed in, interrupting the conversation.

            “Victoria, can you please come into my office?”

            Mr. Richter’s voice was as weak and frail as his body.  He was old enough to remember first-hand accounts of the Great Depression and had fought in both World Wars.  But unlike a lot of war veterans, he didn’t hold onto his military experience, or persona.  Instead, he adorned a personality much more akin to a cheery grandpa with just a hint of dementia.

            Victoria liked the old man.  His general naivety was overshadowed by his love for people and his compassion for others.  She knew that she could run ATA much more efficiently than he could, but she couldn’t bring herself to ever bring up the subject of his retirement or buying him out. 

            She knocked on the office door, but no answer.  Mr. Richter’s hearing was not what it used to be.  She gently opened the door a crack and peeked in.  Mr. Richter was sitting at his desk, his head nodding as he dozed peacefully from the comfort of his chair. 

            “Mr. Richter?”

            He didn’t stir.  His office was small, more of a glass-encased cubicle than a proper office, but he kept it homey and inviting.  Victoria placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder and gently shook him awake.

            “Mr. Richter.”

            “Huh?  Oh…Hello, Victoria.”

            “Good morning, Mr. Richter.” 

            “Good morning, Victoria.  What can I do for you today?”

            She smiled.  “I’m not sure, sir.  You asked me to come see you.”

            “I did?  Oh…Well what did I want to talk to you about?”

            “You didn’t say, sir.”

            “I see.”

            Mr. Richter started shuffling through the papers in front of him.  For being so old, his hands were amazingly dexterous with no traces of Rheumatoid Arthritis.  His mind, on the other hand, showed all the signs of packing to go on a permanent vacation. 

            “Ah.  Here it is.  Yes.  There’s an account that I would like you to pursue.”  He handed her a sheet of paper which she took and began to peruse. 

            “Niroki Industries?”

            “Uh…Yes.  They make these smart phones that are supposed to be the bee’s knees.  They are looking for a world-wide campaign, worth somewhere around a billion dollars.”

            “Did you say billion? With a B?”

            “What? Oh, yes.  I suppose I did.  Do you think you could set up a meeting with him and try to get him to advertise with us?”

            “I’ll do my best, Mr. Richter.”

            “I know you will, Victoria.  I don’t worry about much when you’re around.”

            “Thank you, sir.  I won’t let you down.”

            Mr. Richter nodded his head, partly in agreement, partly because he was nodding off again.  Victoria took her cue from his sinking eyelids and left the office.  She went over to Sarah’s desk, a look of shock on her face.  Sarah watched in horror, sure that something bad had happened.  Victoria fell into the chair opposite Sarah and stared unblinking at the paper still in her hand. 

            “Are you ok?”

            Victoria didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t take a breath.

            “Victoria?” 

            Still no response.  Sarah gently reached across the desk and pulled the paper out of Victoria’s grip.  Looking at the sheet, she realized what it was. 

            “Victoria.  You got the Niroki account?  That’s huge!”

            She finally spoke.  “No.  Didn’t get it.  Have to get it.”

            “What?”

            “I have to meet with him.”

            “Who? Niroki?”

            Victoria blinked away her stupor.  “He’s shopping for an ad agency to help him promote his company’s newest smart phone.”

            “That’s great.”

            “He wants to spend a billion on the campaign.  Take it world-wide.”

            Now it was Sarah’s turn for stupor.  A billion was a number that Sarah couldn’t comprehend.  That kind of money would solve every problem they’ve ever had.  But first they had to get it. 

            “So, what’s the plan?”

            “I have no idea.  I don’t even know where to start.  How can I possibly get a billion dollar contract when I could barely convince the Shawarma Palace to advertise with us?”

            “We just need to strategize.  We need a plan.”

            Victoria was overwhelmed, but she was grateful that Sarah was there.  She had no idea where to start, in truth, neither did Sarah, but together they would be able to figure something out.  She couldn’t do it without Sarah. 

7

            The next day, Neville stopped by Starbucks on his way into the office.  He didn’t normally like chain coffee shop espressos, preferring instead the espresso bar adjacent to the reception desk at PMZ.  But for some reason, something different sounded good this morning.  Besides, it was sometimes good to get out of the office to do something thinking.  His meeting with Niroki was the next day and he wanted to make sure that everything was in order.  If he had a typical presentation, then it should be no problem to sign Niroki.  But typical wasn’t good enough for this account.  Everything had to be perfect. 

            He saw her the second he walked in the door.  She was as radiant as she was the other night at O’Shea’s.  She must wake up looking that beautiful.  She didn’t wear much make-up, but she didn’t need it.  Her olive complexion seemed to glow in the softness of the fluorescent lighting.  She was last in line, so Neville to his spot right behind her.

            She smiled cordially as he came up behind her.  Although she recognized him as well, she was playing it coyly.  The jury was still out as to whether he was anything more than a well-dressed ego. 

            Neville was sure that she recognized him.  What was he supposed to do next?  He had never had any apprehension when approaching women before, but she had a way of disarming him, even from a distance.  He felt helpless and unprepared, feelings that didn’t sit well with him.  It was time to take charge.  He mustered up the courage and tapped her on the shoulder. 

            “Um.  Excuse me.  But did I see you at O’Shea’s the other night?”

            “Uh, yeah.  I think I remember you.  Your back must have been sore the next day after all of those pats on the back.”

            He was a little embarrassed by her first impression of him, but he stuck out his hand anyway.

            “I’m Neville Pearson.” 

            She took his hand.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            She shook his hand firmly and then turned back around to study the menu board.  Neville was more than a little perplexed by her actions.  More determined now than before, he tapped her on the shoulder again.

            “I…Uh, I didn’t get your name.”

            “Uh-huh.  I know.”

            She turned around again.  Starting to get a little frustrated, Neville again poked her shoulder.

            “Excuse me, miss, but did I do something to offend you?”

            “Not at all.”

            “Then why are you treating me like I’m the friend from high school who wasn’t actually a friend and has now shown up all these years later with the sole mission of annoying you?”

            “You’re pretty good with words Mr. Pearson.”

            “Please, call me Neville.”

            “We’ll see.”

            She turned again, this time to order from the cashier.  Before she could say the size she wanted, Neville interrupted.

            “Excuse me, I just need two seconds,” he said to the cashier.  Then to Victoria: “I don’t get it.  Why are you being so rude to me?  I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

            “Really, Mr. Pearson?  Is that all you want?  I know your type, so wrapped up in what you’ve got going on that you couldn’t possibly have the time to get to know me.  I’m sorry Mr. Pearson, but I don’t have time for people like you.  I have no desire to get my heart broken or to be led on.  So, if you will excuse me.”

            She turned back around, leaving Neville stunned in place.  She finished ordering and went to the side counter to await her drink.  He shook of his embarrassment and followed her, failing to order his own drink. 

            “Have dinner with me tonight.”

            “Excuse me, but I don’t think you heard me correctly….”

            “Just give me a chance.”

            The look she gave him said that she was willing to indulge him for the amount of time it would take for her drink to arrive.  He needed to act quickly. 

            “Look, I don’t know how you were hurt in the past, but there’s no reason to write off the future.”

            “Are you saying that you’re my future?”

            “No.  But I am saying that it’s not fair to judge me when you haven’t even gotten to know me.  I might be something really special.  Maybe I could make you happy.  But you’ll never know because you’re willing to write me off without even giving me a chance.”

            “You’re very compelling, Mr. Pearson.”

            “Then have dinner with me tonight.” 

            Her caramel macchiato came.  She took it and headed for the door.  She opened it but stopped in the threshold.

            “Ok, Mr. Pearson.  I’ll meet you at Luigi’s on 52
^nd
at eight.  Do you know the place?”

            “Yes, I do.”  He could barely contain his smile, and as she turned to leave he found himself doing a little happy dance. 

            “Mr. Pearson?”  He was embarrassed that she had seen his happy dance and turned red-faced to look at her.  She said, “Make sure you bring your wallet.  You’re paying.”

            She walked out the door and Neville resumed his happy dance.  He couldn’t believe it.  The woman that had rendered him speechless (a feat that few could boast) had agreed to have dinner with him.  A passing thought ran through his mind that he didn’t even know her name.  She could stand him up and he would have no idea where to find her. 

            He grabbed the next coffee that came up and headed for the door, determined that he would show up at Luigi’s and that she would be there waiting for him.  What he couldn’t decide was if this was confidence, or just him trying to convince himself.