Campaign for Love (6 page)

 

 

Had Suzanna felt more secure and relaxed in her position, she'd have
realized that the fact that Brad was the one to submit her idea
amounted to proof positive he had been poking in her papers. It was
too
much of a coincidence, and as everyone had said, he hadn't had an
original idea in all the time he had been working there. He was well
connected and talked a good game, according to Sharon, but he was
more
of an administrator than a creator.

 

 

Apparently he was making the most of the new account he had been
given,
which might explain why he had not come back for more material from
her
desk. But sooner or later, he would have to 'prove' himself all over
again, so he would be back, of that she was sure.

 

 

It's always going to be this way, thought Suzanna, as long as
Quentin,
Sharon and I take the same lunch hour. I'll never turn him in, in no
matter what happens, but he'll never get my best work again, if he
is
the thief.

 

 

She continued to take the same precautions, locking her best ideas
in
her filing cabinet and her computer, but leaving the merely good
ones
in a folder on her desk. She measured the distance of the bottom
edge
of the folder to the edge of her desk carefully using her ruled
blotter, so she'd know without a doubt when they'd been disturbed.

 

 

After almost another whole week went by without incident, Suzanna
was
beginning to think that, against all odds, it had been coincidence
after all.

 

 

But the very next morning when she went in to discuss the previous
day's work with Quentin Pierce, he remarked that everything she'd
done
was good. A couple of her ideas were excellent, but she could tell
from
his cool tone that something was amiss.

 

 

"So what's wrong with them?" she asked quietly. "I don't exactly see
you bubbling over with joy."

 

 

He heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Suzanna. This is another brilliant
campaign, but someone else already beat you to it again."

 

 

"Was it Brad again?" she asked quietly.

 

 

"As a matter of fact, yes." He gave her a long assessing look, but
remained silent.

 

 

She felt as though she had swallowed ground glass but managed to
shrug
one shoulder and murmur, "Oh, well. You can't win 'em all. I guess
that
old chestnut about great minds running in the same channel are
true."

 

 

She got up before he could say another word, and headed back to her
desk with a sigh. He had been clever, she had to give him that. She
had
never even noticed that her folder had been moved.

 

 

But now she was sure she was right about Brad. A couple of times at
lunch, he had got up almost as soon as he had seen her come in, and
vanished, begging off on the excuse of being so busy.

 

 

Much as she burned to tell the truth and not be the victim of this
injustice, she knew she couldn't. It was another great account, but
again, not something she would die if she didn't get.

 

 

Plus, she still hadn't been there long enough to feel like she was
on
solid ground. Yet at the same time, she needed to hit a few more out
of
the ballpark soon, or else they would wonder why they had ever hired
her, when they clearly supposedly had so much talent in Brad.

 

 

So she continued to leave her less spectacular work unguarded on her
desk, in the hopes that Brad would get caught sooner or later.

 

 

And as she predicted, about once every two weeks, Brad would turn in
one of her ideas a day sooner.

 

 

About the fifth time it occurred, Suzanna had been working with
Quentin
for almost two months. Belatedly, he seemed to realize that
something
strange was going on.

 

 

"Most unusual," he remarked, as he told her that once more Brad
Sherman
had turned in one of her ideas, getting a day's drop on her again.

 

 

"I'd like to talk to you about this in your office later, Ms. Sills.
I'll be in about four, if that's agreeable."

 

 

"That will be fine, Mr. Pierce. I'll try to have my desk cleared by
then."

 

 

She had gone in to wash up and was back at her desk when Quentin
Pierce
knocked and walked in, closing the door behind him.

 

 

"I'd like to keep this private, Ms. Sills. My assistant hasn't left
yet, and I'd like to keep this just between ourselves."

 

 

"Of course. I understand. Whatever it is, would a cup of coffee make
it
easier? I have a fresh pot already made."

 

 

"Yes, please, thanks, if you already have it made," he answered. He
smiled a slightly embarrassed smile and said, "I really want to
discuss
the Imperial Foods Account with you, but let's get the
unpleasantness
out of the way first."

 

 

"Unpleasantness?" she echoed in confusion.

 

 

"I mean the series of 'coincidences' that have been occurring over
the
last two months. You know what I'm talking about, so don't bother to
deny it."

 

 

"Oh, er..."

 

 

He was already sipping the coffee Suzanna had poured for him, and
now
indicated the seat beside him with a nod of his head.

 

 

"Would you mind bringing your coffee around to this side of the
desk?
We can use these two chairs and won't have to talk across the desk
to
one another. Besides, you'll find the chair more comfortable, and
this
could take a while."

 

 

"I don't mind. It'll be a pleasant change," she said, taking her
place
beside him as he had suggested.

 

 

"I think this is more conducive to informality, talking person to
person rather than executive to assistant. For starters, suppose you
tell me what explanation you can offer for the fact that Brad
Sherman
keeps getting the same dynamite ideas you do, but a day earlier. Do
you
know Brad at all?"

 

 

She shook her head. "We've been introduced and exchanged
pleasantries,
but that's about it. Are you about to accuse me of picking his
brain?"

 

 

He grimaced. "Hardly. The pickings would be pretty slim, I'm afraid.
How often do you see him?"

 

 

"Just about every day," Suzy replied. "He's usually finished eating
and
is on his way out of the lunch room when Sharon and I get there."

 

 

"Then you've never spoken to him about your work?"

 

 

She shook her head. "No, never. But somebody must have, because the
first day I met him, he mentioned something about my being your new
'girl wonder.'"

 

 

"Then there's no way he could have caught any of your ideas through
conversation?"

 

 

She shook her head. "No way. There's also no way I could have gotten
any ideas from him."

 

 

"I never asked you that, Ms. Sills. But it does help answer my
question."

 

 

His gaze rested upon her thoughtfully for a moment, before he
finally
said, "I don't like to talk disparagingly about a fellow employee,
but
I know Brad never had a really good idea in his life. I know you
must
have given this some thought. I only wonder why you never came to me
with any accusations against Brad. Surely you know he's been
stealing
your work for months, yet you said nothing. You've lost at least
half a
dozen fantastic accounts because of him. Why did you remain silent
all
this time, when he's stolen so much from you?"

 

 

She shrugged one shoulder. "Because of past experience. I don't like
to
make waves. I also wouldn't like to see anyone get in any trouble on
my
account. After the first time, I simply took precautions not to have
any of my best ideas stolen."

 

 

Quentin laughed. "That was another thing that puzzled me. His later
ideas were never as good as his first one."

 

 

She nodded. "I suspected Brad from the beginning because he was the
only one with reason and opportunity, so I set out to prove it to my
own satisfaction, which I did.

 

 

"After the first time, I simply locked my best work in a drawer. I
didn't mind his taking an occasional idea off my desk. It couldn't
hurt
me or even help him, really, and the company still got the work I
did.
And the customers were happy. He's a good administrator and an
excellent wheel greaser, if you know what I mean, even if he's not
very
creative. So, I, well, I felt sorry for him, and just let it pass.
As I
said, no real harm done, except that they're six wins we could have
had
on our team."

 

 

"You're a compassionate young lady, Suzanna. Do you mind if I call
you
that?"

 

 

"Of course not. It sounded so natural I never even noticed. And it
is
my name, after all."

 

 

"I hope you'll call me Quentin - or even Quent, if you will."

 

 

"Fine. And since we're being so informal, will Brad lose his job
over
this?"

 

 

He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate charcoal
gray
trousers. He sighed and shook his head. "I think I'm going to take a
leaf from your book. If it were up to me, I'd fire him straight
away. I
know what he would say if the shoe were on the other foot. He would
accuse you until he was blue in the face, and move heaven and earth
to
make sure you were fired."

 

 

She quirked one corner of her mouth. "Ah, but wouldn’t that be
killing
the goose that laid the golden egg."

 

 

"True, but again, I don't give him credit for much common sense for
brains. But you've handled yourself with class and discretion and as
you say, he's administered the accounts well, and freed us up to
work
on other projects which, if I am reading this situation correctly,
are
a lot more interesting to you?"

 

 

She nodded.

 

 

"So you only gave him what you really didn't want in the first
place."

 

 

"True on the whole. I wanted the work, of course, since I love what
I
do, but administering accounts is hard work as well, and some of
those
clients have a, well, what shall I say, a certain reputation. I love
to
create, not lock horns with people."

 

 

"Quite right. Though sometimes it's unavoidable."

 

 

"Exactly."

 

 

He looked at her with even more interest now. "Wow, you really are
sharp."

 

 

"I keep my ear to the ground in this industry. It helps prevent me
from
getting stampeded."

 

 

He laughed at that. "Too true. So yes, I am going to agree with you.
What you've done has been sheer genius from start to finish and I
have
to admit that I am even more impressed with your work ethic and team
spirit than I was before. So as to whether Brad stays or goes, I
won't
blow the whistle on him as long as you don't want me to. I won't
report
him to management. But I will let him know he's been found out, and
issue him a warning. I'll also let him know that you didn't blow the
whistle on him, I did. Now, will you tell me how he did it?"

 

 

"I can't swear to it, but I think he just walked out of the
cafeteria
and came right up here to see what he could find. You and Sharon and
I
take the same lunch hour, so everything is wide open. But once
bitten,
twice shy. And I kept an eye on the folders when I went to lunch.
Put
them in a precise place, and found out a couple of times that they
had
been moved. I have to say, he was very clever to start with, but the
longer this has gone on, the more careless he's become."

 

 

Then she pointed. "And perhaps you aren't aware that they just wired
the building for security over the summer, according to Sharon, and
have finally got all the bugs worked out of the system and switched
the
surveillance cameras on a month ago. I have the evidence with my own
eyes for the last three dates he presented my work to the powers
that
be, if you really do want to get rid of him. You know him far better
than I, so I leave the decision entirely up to you."

 

 

"My, I really underestimated you, I have to say. Smart, but also
cunning when you have to be. I like your style, Suzanna," said
Quentin,
staring at her intently.

 

 

Suzy felt herself redden at the unexpected praise.

 

 

Suddenly, Quentin leaned toward her and snatched the spectacles from
her nose. In one motion, he held them up to his own eyes.

 

 

"Suzanna," he said sternly. "You're a fraud. Why are you hiding
behind
these useless glasses?"

 

 

Suzy covered her eyes with her hands and couldn't think of a thing
to
say.

 

 

"Don't be embarrassed, Suzanna. If you want to wear glasses you
don't
need, I'll never tell. But if it's because of that old Dorothy
Parker
thing about men seldom making passes at girls who wear glasses,
forget
it. They've never stop me. By the way, I didn't know that there was
any
such anachronism as a girl who still blushes. It's most becoming."

 

 

She grinned despite the fact that she could feel her face heating
even
more. "Thank you, Quentin. Some day when I know you better, I'll
tell
you all about it. For now, I'm tired of talking about Brad. What's
done
is done. Let him keep those accounts and do what he does best, and
let
me do what I do best. So, if you don't mind, allow me to say that
I'm
more than ready for that Imperial Foods account. And that is one
feather I would really like to have in my cap."