"That must be some disguise!" chuckled Elsa. "You'll have to stop here on your way home some night and show me. But Suzy, how can you bear to do it to yourself? Most of us would kill for what you have. We try to look more sexy, not less. We don't even mind fending off a few pinches. They're sort of flattering. I always add to that quote, 'You can never be too thin, too rich or too sexy.'"
"It's different with me, Elsa. Lots of girls we know are oversexed but don't look it. They're pretty-beautiful, even-but not sexy. Yet, they're always going to bed with someone, anyone. I look so hot that I'm almost a caricature.
"Still, not only am I that ridiculous rarity on the market, a twenty-seven year old virgin, I've never even had the slightest sex urge until now. Being touched by a man either scared or disgusted me, depending on the man."
"From the little you've told me of that nasty childhood experience, that's understandable. Wait a minute! Run that by me again."
"I said being touched by a man-"
"No. Not that. Before."
"You mean about no urge until now?" she repeated.
"That's the zinger."
Suzy sighed, caught out at last. "Yes. Well, I think perhaps I've might be getting over that hang-up, and have put things in their proper perspective now that I'm older and more confident. Until today, I've sometimes thought that I'm a truly frigid woman."
"No way. But as glad as I am to hear you sounding so positive, just be careful, okay. For one thing, I'm guessing it's a work colleague."
"Yes. My boss, in fact."
"Darn."
"I know. Worse luck. Though I'm glad of the job."
"For another thing," her friend said even more soberly, "you may think you're over it, but sometimes the subconscious plays strange tricks. Some day you're going to fall hard, and all that love you've been saving will be lavished on some man. He's going to be a most happy fella."
"I'd like to think you're right," said Suzy cautiously, "because today I think I felt the first faint stirring of something. My boss is a dream, and twice, once when he shook hands and again when he accidentally leaned on my shoulder, I got a warm tingle all over."
"Ah!" breathed Elsa. "Sex rears its lovely head."
"I thought that was ugly head," remarked Suzanna.
"Don't you believe it, honey. Take it from one who knows. With the right partner, it's lovely."
Suzy reclined more fully against the back of the sofa. "I think I can understand that now. Quentin Pierce is a completely perfect, utterly gorgeous specimen of manhood. He has black curly hair, midnight-blue eyes, and is about thirty-five, single, no serious attachments, but lots of pursuers. I don't think I'd mind it with him."
"You scare me. You've certainly come a long way in one day! Just don't go overboard over the first man to stir you. I'll admit, though, he sounds pretty special."
"He is. I wanted to kill myself for making myself so unattractive." Her lush pink lips formed into a pretty pout that no man would ever be able to resist.
"I told you it was a mistake. But at least it sounds as if you're on your way to recovery."
"I'll drink to that," laughed Suzy, "but now I'd better get to my dinner before it burns."
"Me too," said Elsa. "I've got a TV one in the oven. I bet whatever you're having is so much better than mine, lucky girl. I'll call you later in the week. If you're not doing anything, we can get together over the weekend."
They said goodbye and rang off.
Suzy rescued her stew before it scorched and enjoyed it with a salad, coffee and a home-made brownie. She liked to cook and she liked to eat, and was fortunate enough to never have to worry about her figure, mainly because there was never anyone in her life to impress--quite the opposite in fact.
After dinner, she relaxed by sitting down to play some of her old favorites on her spinet. She felt so good that she sang along in a pleasant contralto when she knew the words. Suzanna could read music, but she preferred playing by ear. She enlivened many a party amongst her circle of friends by taking refuge from unwelcome male advances at the piano.
She had an amazing repertoire, and always drew a sing-along crowd calling requests, which she could almost always play. It was an old-fashioned hobby, she knew, but she had come from a musical family, and considered playing the piano to be a lost art which everyone seemed to admire.
Having rid herself of the tensions of the day, Suzy sat in her favorite easy chair to watch a couple of sit-coms. Since advertising was her main passion in life, even before cooking, eating and playing the piano, she took as lively an interest in the commercials as in the programs. Pad at the ready, she took notes on everything she saw, both the good and the bad.
She turned in after the eleven o'clock news, first taking time to lay out a full, unbelted, unbecoming gray dress for morning.
Maybe, mused Suzanna, if I stick to Mother Hubbard-type clothes, I can take a chance and leave off that cursed chastity belt. In a few weeks I'll start wearing shawls to cover my chest. Then I'll do away with the rest of the iron maiden outfit.
If the changeover is gradual enough, it won't even be noticed. And by the time the holidays roll around, I'll take down my hair and leave off the glasses. If anyone asks, I can say I got contact lenses.
Suzanna crawled under the covers, picturing herself at the office Christmas party as "Sexy Suzy" once more.
Suzanna shivered as she imagined the reaction of Quentin Pierce. She felt an inner heat as she dwelt in detail on his crisp, black hair, deep blue eyes and strong, warm hands.
She blushed as she tried to imagine how it would feel to have his sensual mouth on hers. She licked her lips and folded her arms over her strangely hard breasts, then dropped into a restless slumber in which she writhed ecstatically under Quentin's warm caresses and soft kisses all over her body.
She came awake suddenly in awed wonder at the moistness between her thighs.
"So that's what Elsa meant," she sighed to herself.
Quickly, she sought sleep once more, but her hopes were in vain. Sleep came, but not the thrilling dreams of Quentin Pierce's lovemaking.
CHAPTER FOUR
Suzanna was hard at work in her own office long before her boss Quentin put in an appearance the next day. This was all to the good, because Suzy's dreams from the night before still preyed on her mind. She was afraid that her unfortunate tendency to blush might give away her guilty secret.
She had left her door open so that Mr. Pierce couldn't surprise her again. She was ungirdled, but had compensated for the omission by wearing a long, sleeveless tunic over the full gray dress. It would take a mighty sharp eye to detect the contours of a gorgeous derriere under all those drapes.
Suzy had one layout left from the previous day. By the time Quentin Pierce arrived, she had it pretty well in hand.
As he approached his desk and noticed Suzy at hers, he called in, "Good morning, Ms. Sills."
"Good morning, Mr. Pierce," answered Suzy.
He continued walking, but toward her office this time.
"That was a good job you did on those two accounts yesterday. I'll have some more for you a little later on. You work fast, but don't let me pressure you."
"Thanks, Mr. Pierce. No sweat. I work best under pressure."
She got up to meet him, carrying the last layout, to see if what she'd done so far met with his approval.
As they neared one another, they accidentally locked eyes once more, and Suzanna again detected a slightly puzzled expression. She held out the work for his inspection. Their hands brushed, and her senses caught fire. He took the papers from her trembling hands, while Suzy stepped away from him.
Simultaneously, Quentin Pierce took a backward step. Then, reaching out awkwardly, he handed her the pages, mumbling, "Very nice. Very nice indeed."
Turning on his heel he returned quickly to his own desk, where he began shuffling papers in an aimless way.
It was about half way through the morning when Mr. Pierce called Suzy on the intercom. "Ms
. Sills, I have that new batch of layouts for you to thrash out," he said.
"Okay, Mr. Pierce," answered Suzy, eager to get cracking on another project or two so he could really see what she was made of.
Rising immediately, she went to his desk to pick up the worksheets. Every step or the way, she sensed that his eyes were raking her from top to bottom and back again from behind his thick lashes and the paper he was pretending to read. She even imagined she could feel him mentally stripping away the concealing clothing from certain key places.
As she picked up the sheaf of papers, he seemed to shake his head as if to clear cobwebs from his brain and turned his face away while fumbling in one of his desk drawers. Suzanna did a fast about-face to avoid witnessing more of his discomfiture.
Back at her desk, Suzy wondered what Quentin's problem could be. It was significant that she didn't even know when she had started to think of him as Quentin, and not Mr. Pierce.
As she flipped through the new layouts to see if any ideas came to mind and how big a challenge the new work would be, thoughts of Quentin kept intruding while she pondered on his possible problem.
Could it be that unattractive women make him nervous? Is it my appearance that makes him so edgy? she asked herself.
Surely not, was her only possible answer. Although Suzy had done all she could to play down her spectacular looks and figure, no one had tried to feed her dog biscuits.
At worst, she could imagine people saying, 'She'd be a pretty good-looking girl if she'd get some makeup, a decent hair-do, and maybe contact lenses. Her figure mightn't even be too bad with nice clothes and a good bra.'
No, she mused, nobody's whistled, but nobody's throws rocks either.
So what was his problem?
Only time would tell. For now, she bent her head to her next assignment, delighted to have such a fantastic job at such a prestigious firm, and determined to make the most of it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Suzanna worked right the way through the eleven o'clock coffee break, teasing out the ideas for the new whole-grain cracker campaign which was next in the pile.
She got up to stretch about noon, and found Sharon hovering just outside her door.
"I wasn't sure whether or not to disturb you."
"You're always welcome if the door is open."
"Care to go to lunch again? You've been hard at it all morning, and you got in even earlier than I did."
"Sure thing. Let me just grab some water from the cooler, and go wash my hands."
"Fine. I'll just tell him we're heading out."
"Great, thanks."
Suzy hurriedly did as she said, grabbed her purse, and joined Sharon by her Swedish modern pale oak desk. "All set."
It was Suzy's guess that as Mr. Pierce's private secretary, Sharon was not part of the office clique, and so she was glad to have someone closer to her own status as a companion.
Although Sharon must have realized that Suzanna's position in the company was a big step above her own, Suzy wasn't the type to call attention to the fact. Suzanna was equally pleased to have a friend willing to show her the ropes.
Sharon led the way to the canteen and again introduced Suzanna to several young men and women, who all greeted her politely, then turned back to resume conversations with their own friends.
One exception to this was a man about Suzy's age, perhaps a bit older, who was one of the Junior Executives and, as Suzy found out later, aspired to Quentin Pierce's job somewhere down the line.
His name was Brad Sherman, and for some reason, Suzy disliked him on sight. Her instinctive reaction would not go away, despite the fact that he was bending over backwards to be pleasant.
"So you're Quentin's new girl wonder," he remarked with a smile upon being introduced.
"I don't know about that," answered Suzanna. "I am, however, Mr. Pierce's new assistant."
"That's what I meant. Only two days on the job and you're already making a name for yourself on the managerial level."
"That's encouraging," Suzanna said carefully. "When you're this new, it's nice to know you've started out on the right foot."
"Very definitely," said Brad as he got to his feet. He had finished eating, and got up to clear away his place. As he was turning to leave he said, "Glad to have met you. We'll probably see more of one another. Goodbye."
"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 opin
ion, 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.
Campaign for Love Page 3