Campaign for Love (11 page)

 

 

She giggled. "You might say that. I'm not practiced in the art of
seduction. It was my way of showing that I'm no longer afraid."

 

 

"Do you mean you're completely free of those bad childhood
memories?"

 

 

"Perhaps not completely, but yes, I think I'm becoming cured."

 

 

"Enough so that you'll tell me the whole story some time?"

 

 

"Yes. I think that's part of the therapy. If anyone had ever talked
to
me about it, I'd have been over it long ago."

 

 

"Is this sudden thaw just for me, or does it extend to all males?"
he
asked, his all-American boyish good looks hardening slightly.

 

 

She sighed. "I'm not going to lie to you, Jerry, or give you any
false
hope. I've sensed for years that you could be serious about me. I
think
you've been too good a friend, almost a brother to me, for too long
a
time.

 

 

"I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. If you still want
to
hang out with me on that basis, I'll be happy. And incidentally,"
she
said with a grin, "I did enjoy being held and kissed by you."

 

 

"I'll settle for that, then. At least it's a start. And now I'll say
goodnight before I say or do something to change your mind."

 

 

He leaned down, and taking her shoulders pulled her to him for
another
kiss. It was more than brotherly, but a lot less than lover-like. A
minute later, he was gone

 

 

Suzanna closed her door behind her with a vague feeling of
disappointment and uneasiness. She realized she had been conducting
an
experiment on the poor man, and he had not come up to par compared
with
Quentin.

 

 

She knew it could have been a dangerous game-what if Jerry had got
completely carried away and tried to make love to her? Now she was
going too far too fast.

 

 

Feeling restless, she kicked off her gold sandals and headed to the
bathroom. There she ran herself a hot bath and put in her favorite
scented oil.

 

 

She got undressed, carefully putting the dress away, and sank into
the
foaming water with a sigh. She soon grew drowsy enough to sleep.

 

 

She pulled herself out of the tub, and after hastily toweling
herself
dry, slipped completely naked between the sheets. Soon she fell into
a
heavy sleep full of visions of Quentin.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

When Suzanna arrived at the office on Monday, Quentin was already
dictating into his computer, and he gave her a nod and smile though
the
door.

 

 

Once settled behind her desk, she found a memo on the desk for her
to
call Barry Jarvis at Imperial Foods.

 

 

It was Barry's secretary who answered, but upon hearing that Suzanna
Sills was calling, put her through immediately.

 

 

"Good morning, Ms. Sills," his warm voice with its clipped accent
came
over the wire. "How are you?"

 

 

"Well, thank you," replied Suzy. "And you?"

 

 

"Fine, thanks, and really delighted with all your original ideas for
Quik-Bix. That's why I'm calling. If your boss can spare you for a
few
hours this morning, we'd like you to talk to the dieticians and
technicians in our test kitchen to make sure your recipes are
fool-proof. We'll need exact measurements, and if you can supply
them,
it will save us a lot of trial and error.

 

 

"Afterwards, I'd like to take you to lunch, if that's all right with
you."

 

 

"Sounds great," answered Suzy. "Let me clear it with Mr. Pierce."

 

 

She buzzed through.

 

 

"Yes, Ms. Sills, what can I do for you?"

 

 

"I have Mr. Jarvis on the line. They'd like me over at Imperial
Foods
this morning to help them work out the exact recipes for Quik-Bix. I
may even be able to get started on the Spudz campaign while I'm
there
if everything goes well. Is that okay with you?"

 

 

"Of course. Sounds like a good idea. Regards to Barry. Cyrus too, if
you see him."

 

 

Suzanna told Barry that she was free to leave any time.

 

 

"Good," he said. "Grab a cab. I'll be waiting for you in the foyer,
and
will take you straight to the lab kitchens."

 

 

"Fine. See you in a bit."

 

 

Ten minutes later, Suzy was in a cab going across town, glad that
she
had dressed nicely in a slimming pearl gray suit much more form
fitting
than the tents she had been wearing.

 

 

Ten minutes later, Barry was paying off the taxi in front of
Imperial
Foods.

 

 

At first, Suzanna was a little in awe of the dieticians, but they
proved very co-operative. They had everything she'd need ready, from
a
pot of stewing chicken to a skillet of hot fat, plus every
ingredient
in addition to the Quik-Bix she'd use in each recipe. They'd been
quite
thorough. In less than two hours, they had everything ready for
tasting.

 

 

They found everything to be delicious, as Suzy knew they would. Once
the Quik-Bix recipes had been standardized, Suzanna introduced her
French, German and Irish recipes using Spudz. They were most
enthusiastic over the idea. With those three as a start, they could
find other ethnic dishes that called for mashed potatoes, and
substitute Spudz instead.

 

 

Barry Jarvis had left Suzanna and gone back to his office once he
had
supplied her with a lab coat and introduced her around. He had
promised
to be back to take her to lunch at twelve, and he was there on the
dot.

 

 

Suzanna found out later that he had called Quentin to say that
Imperial
Foods wanted Suzanna and Quentin to work as a team on their
accounts.
No one else was to be involved.

 

 

"That's fine with me," she said, "but you'll have to get
management's
approval."

 

 

"I'll get on it right away," Barry replied. "Ready?"

 

 

"Yes, I think so, " she replied. "We've finished the Quik-Bix and
got a
start on all the Spudz. I don't think you'll need me here again."

 

 

"Too bad," said Barry gallantly. "You add a touch of class."

 

 

"Thank you," said Suzanna. "That was very kind."

 

 

"And true as well. But let's go. I'm starved. I've made reservations
at
my club for twelve-fifteen."

 

 

"I'm hungry, too. I saved my appetite by not taking very big
samples."

 

 

"That's good. Sometimes they ask us in to taste the experimental
recipes. If it's something really good, we all pig out. It's handy,
too, because if we get busy and we're too pressed for time to get
out
to lunch, we can always find a quick snack in the kitchen."

 

 

"That reminds me of something that happened at a kitchen one time
when
I was working on a dairy products account. The lab where they found
uses for by-products was near the diet kitchen where we made up
recipes.

 

 

"Late one afternoon a lab technician came in with a batch of samples
in
eight ounce containers. Since the dieticians were ready to leave, he
suggested they each take one home and try it. The next day he came
in
and asked, 'Did you try it?' All of them said yes.

 

 

'Well, what did you think of it?'

 

 

All of them said it was good. One claimed it was the smoothest
cottage
cheese she'd ever eaten, while another stated that she preferred
larger
curd, but they all really liked it.

 

 

The technician stood there thunderstruck. 'You mean you ate it?' he
asked. 'Omigod! It wasn't food. It was a new facial mask!'"

 

 

Barry howled with laughter. "Did anyone get sick?"

 

 

"Apparently it was harmless, but I'll bet he tested his by-products
elsewhere after that."

 

 

By this time they had arrived at his mid-town club, having caught a
cab
right outside the Imperial Foods Building.

 

 

The club was quiet and dignified, very masculine, in subdued
mahogany
and leather. The dining room had snowy linens and crystal lamps on
each
table, and a whole array of silver and glassware.

 

 

The headwaiter greeted Barry by name, and soon an unobtrusive waiter
took their order. The service was excellent, as was the filet mignon
and the red wine. The atmosphere was one of opulent elegance.

 

 

Barry Jarvis was good company. He couldn't have been more charming
if
she had been her natural self instead of in her working disguise,
complete with fake glasses. She couldn't believe she was getting all
this adulation on her merit and talent alone, but she was starting
to
get used to it, and it was most gratifying.

 

 

She began to recall what it had been like as a child, never being
sure
if she had been wanted for herself, or for her looks, talent, or the
money she had been brought up with thanks to her grandmother, who
had
made some excellent investments over the years. Now it was her looks
versus her talents, but her talents seemed to be winning after all.

 

 

"What's so funny?" asked Barry with a tentative smile, ready to
share
her joke.

 

 

"I've just been patting myself on the back for finally competing on
an
equal footing with men in a man's field, when I suddenly realized
that
all I've done all day is something that most home-makers do, bustle
around in a kitchen."

 

 

Barry joined in the laughter. "There is a difference, though," he
said.
"What you were doing was creative. I'm sure you'll do equally well
with
products that take you out of the kitchen."

 

 

They had just finished dessert, a refreshing raspberry sorbet. Now
he
said, "I think we have just time for a liqueur before I deliver you
to
back to Quentin. What would you like?"

 

 

"A crème de cacao with cream, thank you."

 

 

"That sounds good. I haven't had it for a long time. I'll have one
too."

 

 

The waiter brought the cordials, and as they started to sip, Barry
remarked, "This drink always reminds me of growing up. We would be
allowed to have it as a special treat. This or a very short beer."

 

 

"Me too, in my family. Dark beer."

 

 

"That's right, bock beer, maybe. Dark, with a good head on it."

 

 

She laughed at the shared memory. "When it's in season, there is
nothing better. I prefer it to light, to wash down a good
sauerbraten
or German pot- roast. It comes from a German heritage on my father's
side."

 

 

"Do you know a lot about German cookery?" he asked.

 

 

She nodded. "A fair bit. I know a lot of my grandmother's old
favorites, which is where I got some of my ideas from for the
campaign."

 

 

"What are my chances of being invited up for a home-cooked meal some
time?"

 

 

Normally she might have taken this as a pass, but in this case she
decided to go with the suggestion. After all, what harm could it do?
"It's the least I can do after you've treated me so royally. I'll
make
it a small dinner party."

 

 

"Do I have to wait for Bock beer season?"

 

 

Suzanna laughed and shook her head. "No, I think we can find a
reasonable facsimile."

 

 

They were leaving the club when Barry asked, "Do you mind if I call
you
Suzanna? We're going to be seeing a lot of one another, since our
account is exclusively in the hands of you and Quentin, and first
names
are so much more relaxed."

 

 

"Of course I don't mind. I like it."

 

 

"Good. And I hope you'll call me Barry."

 

 

"Now that that's settled, Barry, what's all this about the Imperial
Foods account being in our hands-Quentin's and mine?"

 

 

He grinned. "We've requested you both to work for us, and the client
is
always right."

 

 

She tried not to display her surprise or concern. Working so closely
with Quentin might be too close for comfort after what they had
shared
together. But it was also too good a chance to miss. "Thank you. I'm
flattered at your trust in me."

 

 

"You needn't be. You're very good. I can't believe any company was
foolish enough to let you get away, but I'm glad they did. Their
loss
is our gain."

 

 

The taxi pulled up in front of Elder and Rubin and Suzanna said,
"Don't
bother to get out, Barry. You've given me enough time in your busy
day.
Keep the cab and get back to the office. I'll go on up and tell
Quentin
how much we've accomplished."

 

 

"Okay, Suzanna, if you're sure you don't mind?"

 

 

"Not at all." She offered her hand. "Goodbye, Barry, and thanks for
the
lovely lunch." Then she skipped out of the taxi nimbly.

 

 

"Goodbye, Suzanna. The pleasure was all mine," Barry called after
her
before she waved and then closed the door.

 

 

The taxi nosed out into the traffic as Suzanna entered the building.
She stepped into the elevator and was soon back in her own office.

 

 

Quentin wasn't at his desk, so apparently she hadn't been missed.
She
hurriedly logged on and type up her notes on what had happened that
morning, and follow up with a list of action steps.