Campaign for Love (2 page)

 

 

 

Copyright the author 1999 USA, UK, Rest of World

 

Second Edition, 2003

 

Third edition with all new material 2009

 

Fourth edition with all new material 2011

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage
retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright
owner.

 

 

Under the 1988 UK copyright laws, the author asserts the right to be
identified as the creator of this work.

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are
the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to any
actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

ISBN: 978-1-58345-281-3

 

 

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CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Seated in the outer office when Suzanna Sills entered were four
other
young hopefuls, one of them male. Suzanna announced herself to the
receptionist with a pleasant, "Good morning," after which she turned
toward the other four with a shy smile and took a seat.

 

 

She couldn't help noticing the complete indifference in the man's
eyes
as they slid past her en route to the three decidedly pretty girls
beyond, or the smug look exchanged by the girls themselves as they
dismissed her with a slight air of disdain.

 

 

Great, thought Suzanna. It's working!

 

 

Suzanna had applied for the position of assistant to the top
advertising executive of the biggest and best advertising agency on
Madison Avenue, Elder and Rubin. She looked neat and well-scrubbed.
Beyond that her only concession to her femininity was a slight slick
of
pale pink lip gloss. Until she had walked into the room, she'd had
no
way of knowing what the competition would be. Now she knew that
there
had been at least four other applicants with equally good resumes
who
had been given appointments. Probably a good deal would hinge on the
personal interview.

 

 

The wait seemed endless as the four other aspiring copywriters were
called in turn. Each one left with a self-conscious show of
confidence
and a brisk step, as if relieved that the ordeal was over. They
studiously avoided the gazes of the other applicants.

 

 

Finally it was Suzanna's turn. As she strode purposefully into the
inner sanctum, she was aware of a large man silhouetted against the
light from a huge floor to ceiling window behind him. She approached
his desk and extended her hand in a no-nonsense manner.

 

 

"How do you do? I'm Suzanna Sills."

 

 

Her hand was enveloped in a firm clasp. She looked up into the man's
face, which she could see clearly now that she was close enough to
be
shaded from the window's glare.

 

 

Then a strange thing happened. Her knees felt weak; her heart
started
to pound. She cursed the impulse that had made her turn herself into
a
dowdy frump. As if from a distance, she heard his deep, resonant
voice
say, "How do you do? I'm Quentin Pierce. Won't you sit down?"

 

 

Suzanna took the chair opposite his desk and sat erect, both feet
firmly on the floor, skirt well below her knees and hands folded
demurely in her lap. Quentin Pierce seemed to be taking her in from
head to toe with a faint smile, almost of amusement.

 

 

Examination complete, he said, "Relax, Ms. Sills. I've gone over
your
resume, and I liked what I saw. You've started out with a slight
edge
over your competitors, which is why I held you back until the last.

 

 

"But tell me, why have you changed positions three times in five
years?
You weren't fired, so the moves were always voluntary. Yet, you
don't
look flighty. I'd hate to get you all broken in as my assistant and
right-hand person only to have you decide to move on."

 

 

"To be perfectly frank, Mr. Pierce, my previous positions have all
been
dead-ends, as far as I could see. I was passed over several times
for
promotions merely because I was a woman, I'm sure. My work was as
good
as, or better than, that of any man who was promoted over me.

 

 

"Also, I found there was a great deal of dishonesty. Many times a
superior took credit for my work merely by submitting it to
management
as his own. I felt that in a top-rated agency, things like this
wouldn't happen, and promotions, if any, would be strictly on merit,
irrespective of sex."

 

 

He nodded, seeming not in the least put out by her frankness. "Well
put, Ms. Sills. You're absolutely correct. This is the twenty-first
century, after all. Well, now that we've got that out of the way, I
think we'll make a good team."

 

 

He rose and proffered his hand as he said, "Welcome to Elder and
Rubin.
Can you start work immediately?"

 

 

She blinked, and then jumped hastily to her feet. She was so
delighted
that, without thinking, she gave him a dazzling smile as she looked
him
in the eye, shook his hand enthusiastically and said, "I certainly
can,
Mr. Pierce."

 

 

Suzanna realized her mistake the minute she detected the quizzical
look
in his eyes. He was staring at her now as if he was sure he had
somehow
overlooked something important. He dropped her hand as though it was
hot.

 

 

It probably is, with nerves, thought Suzy, embarrassed.

 

 

"One more thing, Ms. Sills, although it doesn't really matter now.
We
do check out references or people being considered for positions
before
we schedule any appointments. Your last employer said, and I quote,
'the young woman has too much appeal for her own good. It's
difficult
to take her work seriously.' What did he mean by that?"

 

 

Suzanna shrugged, and hoped that her face had remained neutral. Why,
that swine, how dare he! She had half a mind to go after him for the
sexist pig he was.

 

 

Conscious of his continuing stare, she tried to shrug it off
lightly.
"Who knows? He was a throwback to prehistoric times who didn't take
any
woman seriously because he was too busy thinking of her as a
plaything.
I feel sorry for his wife."

 

 

He looked at her carefully again, and then gave a small smile. "I'll
buy that, if only because you don't look to me like a femme fatale,
and
I have no trouble at all taking you seriously with the portfolio
you've
shown me."

 

 

"A dubious compliment at best, Mr. Pierce, but thanks for the vote
of
confidence."

 

 

He colored. "Sorry. It wasn't meant as a put-down."

 

 

"I understand. Best to start off on the right foot, eh?"

 

 

He nodded and at last tore his eyes away from her. The mood became
briskly businesslike once more.

 

 

"Now that you're officially on the payroll, I'll notify personnel.
In
the meantime, your office is right through that door. Perhaps you'd
like to look it over and get settled in today, that is, if you
haven't
got anything else planned. If there's anything you need, just call
through. We will get your e-mail accounts and so on set up straight
away.

 

 

"Also, you'll notice there's a folder of unfinished work on your
desk,
left by your predecessor, I'm afraid. You're inheriting all of it as
well as the office, but don't let that put you under too much
pressure.
We will let you find you feet in your own time.

 

 

"In the folder, you'll notice there are three layouts for three
different clients. I've outlined the basic ideas. What I'd like you
to
do is fill in appropriate copy, and don't hesitate to put in any
fresh
new ideas of your own in the way of logos or slogans."

 

 

Then Quentin Pierce nodded his head in dismissal.

 

 

Suzanna stared at him for a moment, and realizing he was finished
with
her, opened the door which led from his to her office. She closed it
behind her in case he wanted privacy, and then began to investigate
her
new domain.

 

 

Her office, like Quentin's, had a huge picture window with a
magnificent view of Manhattan's caverns and skyscrapers. She could
see
right up Madison Avenue. Her desk was enormous and her quarters
spacious. The latest in laptop computers was on her main desk, and
there was a conference table in the far corner with plenty of room
to
spread out.

 

 

There was a large filing cabinet in the corner next to a door which
proved to be a cloakroom and private bathroom, separated from it by
another wooden door. On the other wall was a comfortable-looking
black
leather couch.

 

 

There was a padded swivel chair behind the desk, also in black
leather,
and two leather armchairs in front of it. Several straight-backed
chairs with cushioned seats stood at the conference table. A small
shelf next to the wardrobe held a twelve-cup electric coffee pot.
The
furnishings were completed in deep-pile forest green carpeting.

 

 

Very comfortable, thought Suzanna. So far they haven't missed a
thing.

 

 

She went into her bathroom, and was somewhat taken aback to find
that,
in addition to the usual facilities, there was a stall shower, and
even
a hairdryer.

 

 

Suzanna freshened up, put her jacket on a hanger on the clothes
rack,
and took her seat behind the desk. She smiled a little as she
thought
back to her time in the outer office just a short while ago.

 

 

Isn't it ironic, she mused, that those three pretty girls were so
convinced that they would get the job because of their looks, and
I'm
doing whatever I can to disguise mine.

 

 

She tugged the heavy supporting sports bra she had put on in an
effort
to disguise her ample bust, and settled her flowing,
figure-concealing
dress around her more comfortably.

 

 

At last, thought Suzy, I'm on my way up, and no one can ever say,
'Sure! He picked the one with the great looks!' She chuckled to
herself
at the idea.

 

 

But if she had known in advance what Quentin Pierce looked like, she
might have had second thoughts about her transformation into ugly
duckling, she admitted to herself as she picked up one of the
incomplete layouts and looked at it absentmindedly whilst trying to
recall Mr. Pierce's appearance. Though she knew that it was a no-no
to
think of work colleagues in such a way, he surely was handsome.

 

 

Tall, she itemized to herself. Maybe six-three, very masculine,
broad
shoulders, narrow waist, flat stomach, slender hips, taut thighs,
absolutely gorgeous! Her mind recalled his masses of black, thick
waves
and deep blue eyes.

 

 

If I were interested in looking for a man, which I'm not at the
minute,
I'd probably love to run my fingers through that hair and drown in
those eyes, she reflected with a sigh.

 

 

She frowned at this thought, and shook her head. For heaven's sake,
it
was only her first day on the job. She couldn't afford to let
herself
be distracted.

 

 

But ever the professional, even as her mind had been wandering off
onto
Quentin's wonderful attributes, Suzanna had been sorting through the
three pieces of work on her desk. A couple of ideas worth developing
further came to mind.

 

 

Then she recalled the look Quentin Pierce had given her when she'd
inadvertently smiled at him. It nagged at her conscience.

 

 

I'll have to remember to smile with my lips closed, and sort of veil
my
eyes, she decided.

 

 

Suzy knew only too well the power of her eyes. They were the one
thing
she couldn't do much to disguise, even with the horn-rimmed
window-glass spectacles she was wearing.

 

 

He eyes had often been commented upon, for they were unbelievably
wide-spaced and large with a thick fringe of long, black lashes,
upper
and lower. The irises were light amber with a ring of sea green
around
the pupil, making them seem larger than they were. Everyone always
stared and commented.

 

 

She would just have to keep her eyes down if she could. Heaven help
her
if Quentin ever found out what she really looked like. She needed
this
job, if only to salvage her professional reputation and get a solid
resume that didn't pose more questions than it offered answers.

 

 

"Flighty indeed," she muttered as she literally rolled up her
sleeves
and got to work. Only because she had been forced to flee...

 

 

But not this time. Too much was at stake and she was through with
every
man she met trying to make her dance to his tune. God help Quentin
Pierce if he ever tried.