Campaign for Love (5 page)

 

 

"Goodbye, and thank you," answered Suzanna.

 

 

After Brad left the table, Sharon confided his aspirations and
ambitions. She also intimated that although Brad was a fair hack
copy-writer and would have no trouble holding his present job as
Junior
Executive, his work wasn't inspired. He lacked the spark of
originality, so he wasn't likely to advance any higher in the
company.
Having imparted this information, Sharon turned her full attention
on
Suzy.

 

 

"From what I can see of it, you have very pretty hair, Suzanna.
Don't
you ever wear it down?"

 

 

"Oh, yes." replied Suzy. "Sometimes I do, on weekends or for special
dates. But it's neater and a lot less trouble up."

 

 

"I suppose so," said Sharon archly while patting her own red tresses
into place, "but I could never wear my hair like that. I'd look like
an
Irish washerwoman."

 

 

"I doubt that," said Suzanna rising to the bait. "But it does look
lovely, the way you wear it, and the color is beautiful."

 

 

"Why, thank you," said Sharon, smiling self-consciously. "It took me
a
long time to learn to like the color. You know how kids are. All
through school it was 'Red' or 'Carrots' until I hated it. Not any
more. I guess there aren't too many natural red-heads around."

 

 

"Plenty of fake ones, that's for sure."

 

 

Sharon was now eyeing Suzanna's nondescript, though expensive,
clothes.
Suzy knew instinctively that she was dying to suggest a place where
she
could get clothes like Sharon herself wore.

 

 

Apparently she thought better of it on such short acquaintance. Suzy
turned the conversation back to Sharon's interests, movies, music
and
so forth. They finished lunch, and went back to work without Sharon
making any further remarks on Suzy's appearance, much to her relief.

 

 

She hated feeling like such a fraud, but what could she do. This job
was far too great an opportunity, one she was not going to let slip
through her fingers if there was anything she could do to prevent
it.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

 

When Suzanna returned to her office, she got the strangest sense
that
someone had been in the room. She then told herself to stop being so
silly, until she sat back down and noticed that her clients'
accounts
were not exactly the way she remembered leaving them atop the desk.
Since Sharon had said that Mr. Pierce had also headed off to lunch
and
was still out, she was sure it had not been him.

 

 

But she couldn't think why anyone else would be interested in them,
so
she dismissed it as her imagination or faulty memory.

 

 

About a half an hour later, Suzy saw her boss come in and walk to
his
desk. As he sat down, he looked toward her office and gave a slight
nod
when he saw her looking in his direction.

 

 

Suzanna returned the nod, accompanied by a tight-lipped, undazzling
smile. Then she bent her head to finish the cracker ad.

 

 

Just after five-thirty Mr. Pierce stopped by her office carrying his
attaché case, He stood in the doorway and said, "I'm leaving
now, Ms. Sills. Is there anything you need to know regarding your
accounts before I go?"

 

 

"I can't think of anything at the moment, thank you," answered Suzy.

 

 

"Everything all right?"

 

 

"Just finishing the last of them."

 

 

"My, you sure do work fast. I can't wait to see them."

 

 

"You didn't take a peek before?" she asked, recalling how things had
seemed out of order on her desk when she had come back from lunch.

 

 

He shook his head. "No, of course not. I want you to come to me when
you're ready, okay? And not feel shy about asking me for help if you
need it."

 

 

"Thanks, I'll remember that, but so far, it's all been great."

 

 

"Good, glad to hear and see such enthusiasm. So if you're sure you
don't need me-"

 

 

"I'd love your opinion, once I think they're ready to show you."

 

 

"Great, then I'll see you and them tomorrow, then. Goodnight."

 

 

"Goodnight, Mr. Pierce."

 

 

"It's Quentin, all right?"

 

 

"Yes, er, Quentin. Suzanna. Or Suzy."

 

 

"Thanks, Suzanna. Good night." He flashed her a smile, gave her a
long
lingering look, and left her alone at last.

 

 

Half an hour later, Suzy had finished her work. She was especially
proud of one layout. She knew it was fresh and original as well as
catchy, an entirely new concept. Quentin would be pleased, she was
sure.

 

 

She picked up her handbag, gathered up the layouts, and dropped them
on
his desk on her way out. Sharon had also already left for the day,
she
noticed.

 

 

As she headed for the elevator, Suzanna thought of how much she
enjoyed
working for Quentin. He was generous with his praise when he thought
something exceptionally good, and never failed to pass along the
credit
to management. Suzy was proud of the fact that although she was new
in
her job, she hadn't yet had to call on him for help.

 

 

Well, thank goodness for another day over, Suzy thought to herself
with
anticipation. Now I can go home and get out of my harness.

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

The next day Suzanna was somewhat surprised that Quentin didn't
remark
on her work when he called on the intercom to say that he had
another
batch of layouts ready for her. She also had to admit she was rather
disappointed. She had been so sure she had hit just the right note
with
the piece.

 

 

"I'll be right there, Mr. Pierce," she answered.

 

 

When she went into his office to get them a short time later, they
talked for a time about this and that, until finally their
conversation
began to lull. When he still made no mention of the layout she had
stayed late to finish, she couldn't resist asking, "So, what did you
think of my idea for the Reynolds account?"

 

 

"I thought it was great, Ms. Sills," he said with a rueful smile.
"Really great."

 

 

"Then what's wrong?" she asked, staring at him, looking for any clue
as
to what the problem might be.

 

 

"Unfortunately, someone else had the same idea just before you did.
He
presented it to the top brass yesterday afternoon and they were most
impressed, so he's going to get all the credit for it, though am of
course going to show them your layout, since it's all been fully
conceptualized by you on paper rather than just chatted about at an
informal meeting."

 

 

"Oh, er, thank you. Someone else? Really?" Suzanna said, knowing how
unlikely, though not impossible, it was for such a thing to happen.
"Would you mind telling me who's on the same wavelength as me?"

 

 

"Of course I don't mind. It was a Junior Exec named Brad Sherman. To
tell the truth, I was a bit surprised. Brad isn't exactly known for
his
original ideas around here."

 

 

"Well," said Suzy, shrugging, "I guess there's nothing new under the
sun."

 

 

He looked up at her for a moment, and then rose from his chair.
"Yes, I
think I'll just head up now myself and drop this off to them. Even
if
the two of you both came up with the same idea, it's so fresh and
original, we wouldn't want the competition to steal a march on us."

 

 

"No, of course not."

 

 

"Sorry you lost the account, but there will be others, I promise."

 

 

She smiled and held back the bitterness in her tone as she said,
"We're
all playing on the same team here, Mr. Pierce. I'm glad you're so
sure
we'll be award the account, and I'm glad my concept board can
contribute to the success of the campaign."

 

 

He nodded, though again she sensed a strange coiled tension in him
that
had definitely not been there before. "That's the spirit, Ms. Sills.
Your turn to shine will come soon enough if you keep producing work
like this." He lifted all the work she had left on his desk the
night
before. "I'll see you later," he said, then headed out the door.

 

 

On her way back to her office, Suzanna recalled the feeling she'd
had
the day before when she had come back from lunch. She had been sure
that her papers had been disturbed and had even asked Quentin if he
had
taken a peek at her work.

 

 

Now she recalled that Brad had left the staff cafeteria about
twenty-five minutes before she and Sharon had.

 

 

For the rest of the week, Suzy examined her papers when she returned
from lunch, but found nothing amiss. She also made sure to change
the
password on her computer and lock all her filing cabinets, where she
hid most of her good work.

 

 

She baited her mousetrap with a few inconsequential pieces, copies
of
which she time stamped on her computer to show when she had created
them in case anyone tried to get ahead of her again.

 

 

But by the end of the week, she had no evidence of anyone having
tampered with her work. She tried to tell herself she was just
imagining things, but all the same, she needed to know what was
going
on, and where she stood...

 

 

That weekend Suzanna and Elsa went out on the town. They started
window-shopping in the mid-town area, worked their way to
Bloomingdale's, lunched at a great deli, took in a foreign film, an
award-winner at the Cannes Film Festival, and dined at one of their
favorite bistros.

 

 

Over their meal, Suzanna told Elsa all she knew about Quentin
Pierce,
which was pitifully little. She did know he had a following.
According
to what Sharon had told her, some were jet-setters, some career
women,
all were stunning. From her office, Suzanna sometimes caught his end
of
a phone call. None indicated any degree of intimacy, so even if he
was
dating, he certainly wasn't involved or committed in any sense that
she
could see.

 

 

"All the same," said Elsa, "if I were you I'd give up the disguise
immediately, and I'd show up at the office tomorrow as my sexy
self."

 

 

But Suzy knew instinctively that this would be a bad move. "No," she
said with a shake of her head, "I don't think so. Not only would Mr.
Pierce be shocked at my deception, he'd feel like a fool too. You
know
how offices are. It would spread like wildfire that he'd been duped.
He'd never forgive me, and my job would go right down the drain.

 

 

"Besides, Quentin is one smart man. I think, given time, he'll
realize
there's more to me than meets the eye. Besides, there's no point in
rushing things. I'll wait and see what happens. If I find he's
getting
interested, I'll start to change gradually. The glasses will go
first.
I'll use more make-up, take my hair down, start wearing heels and
sheer
hose again. Then I can take off the sports bra and finally wear a
dress
that will reveal all. In the meantime, I'll try to keep up the
masquerade as long as possible so I can get to know him better."

 

 

"I hope you get away with it, but I wouldn't want to be in your
shoes
at the moment."

 

 

Suzy shrugged. "It won't be too bad. This is September. I'll try to
hold out until the office Christmas party for the great unveiling.
Everyone will think I had myself made over for the occasion."

 

 

"Lotsa luck, dearie, but I still don't like it," said Elsa.

 

 

They paid their check and went out to hail a cab. On the way uptown,
Suzanna also told Elsa her suspicions about Brad Sherman having
stolen
her idea and presented it as his own in order to get ahead. Elsa
agreed
that he'd probably bear watching very closely in future.

 

 

When they got to Elsa's building, Suzanna kept the taxi waiting
while
she saw her safely inside her own apartment. A few blocks later she
asked the cabbie to do the same for her. New York taxi drivers could
often be very understanding. Of course, he was rewarded with a
handsome
tip, but for a doll like Suzy, he'd have done it anyway.

 

 

She laughed at his words, but it was a painful reminder of how most
men
treated her, as a doll or plaything for the games they wanted to run
and make up all the rules to. She fought down the wellspring of
anger
that started to bubble up at the thought of Brad helping himself to
her
hard work. She needed to do a good job, stand on her own merits, if
she
was ever to break through the glass ceiling that had been holding
her
back ever since she had started her working career.

 

 

As much as Elsa had encouraged her to bare all now that she had her
feet under the desk, she couldn't help but feel like she was walking
in
quicksand until she got at least one really great account under her
belt. Brad had cut her off at the pass this time, but she was damned
if
she was going to let him do it again, she decided as she opened her
front door, and shut it with a decisive click.

 

 

It was one thing confiding in Elsa, but in the office, Suzanna said
nothing of her suspicions about Brad to anyone.

 

 

How can I, she thought. I really have no proof except that he had
time
and opportunity, but then so did a lot of other people.