For the tropics, she packed a black maillot swim suit with French cut thighs, which had a neckline to the waist in front and was backless to the hips. She also packed an emerald-green string bikini. She knew her wardrobe, for the most part, would be handpicked and custom made for the advertising campaign shots, but for her free time she selected sun dresses in white, and pale blue, as well as one slinky black evening gown, strapless, with a front slit and matching embroidered stole.
In a separate bag went an assortment of shoes to wear in the commercials. A diaphanous nightgown in misty mauve with a matching peignoir was the last thing she packed, since it was the first thing she'd need on arrival late the following night.
When all was ready for the morning, she showered, shampooed, waxed, manicured and pedicured herself. She finished blow-drying her hair, and then she applied Femme Fatale nail enamel in a pale coral to her finger- and toenails.
Then she tumbled into bed exhausted to dream of turquoise seas, and the even more divine Quentin Pierce.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Suzanna sprang out of bed eagerly to the sound of the alarm in the following morning. She washed and dressed in her pearl gray suit, and applied a bit of makeup from the color-coded kit Femme Fatale Cosmetics had provided. Then she put on the fake glasses.
She put up her hair in her sensible Suzanna fashion, decided against messing up the kitchen with a cooked breakfast, and took a package of Danish pastries out of the freezer. She'd make coffee at the office, and that and the pastries would hold her until lunch.
She called a cab, rolled her bag to the elevator and stood in front of her building. A few minutes later, her taxi arrived.
She was earlier than usual, but Sharon was already at her desk. Knowing that Quentin wouldn't arrive for some time, Suzy invited Sharon in to share her coffee and Danish.
Sharon was delighted, since she wanted to talk about the dinner party, but more specifically, about Jerry.
As a preamble, she asked Suzanna, "Why are you still playing down your looks? After all, Mr. Pierce knows now what you really look like now."
"True, but I feel that if I keep my hair up, the other changes won't be that obvious, and I'll have fewer distractions. Men won't notice me, and women will be more inclined to trust me."
"I suppose you're right," Sharon said, though she looked doubtful. "You'd probably have every man in the room hovering around. But is that bad?"
She shook her head. "No, but I'm not interested. I have my own life and my own friends, quite apart from Elder and Rubin. I'd like to keep it that way. Office intrigue, sneaking around, is always a mistake."
"I could have sworn that you had a 'thing' going with Quentin Pierce when you came back from Femme Fatale last week, and when I saw you together yesterday, I was sure of it."
"I have got a 'thing' going, as a matter of fact. I have a terrific business relationship with the best boss I've ever had, and that's all. But off the record, I almost wish it were the way you thought."
Sharon smiled. "Well, at least now I know you're human. What red-blooded girl wouldn't have the same wish? For years I've been hoping he'd notice me, but yesterday changed all that. Tell me about Jerry White."
Suzy told her what she knew, and the fact that they had only ever been friends. "Do you think it could grow into something serious?" she asked at the end of her brief tale.
"I think so. He did take my phone number, and he asked if he might call."
"That's a good sign. I'll tell you the truth. My main reason for the party was to have Jerry meet you. I wanted to find him someone nice, to cut the strings, so to speak. And since Quentin was there when he arrived, and I was dressing, I think he believed what you did, that there was something going on. So Jerry is all yours now, I'm sure. Now that he's not working so many hours the way he did when I first knew him, I think he will have time to really commit to someone."
"I can't thank you enough for thinking of me. Even if it doesn't work out, you've been a great friend. Right from the start, you've never been patronizing. I could die when I think of how I tried to tell you to do yourself up a bit." She rolled her eyes and blushed.
"No problem. I didn't get my ego dented at all. It showed you cared, weren't jealous. And for what it's worth, you've made me feel right at home ever since I got here. So it works both ways."
"It's been easy. Your predecessor wasn't anything like you. Not only wasn't she as good at her job as you are, but she was a snob, though what reason she had, I'll never know. She never even ate in the employees' cafeteria, let alone with me."
"That was her loss," said Suzanna, and she meant it. "But tell me a bit more about her. It seems strange that Quentin never mentions her."
"For one thing, Mr. Pierce's last assistant never went on any business trips with him. She didn't have lunches with clients, either. She was quite attractive in a flashy way."
"Oh?"
"Brassy-bleached hair, blood-red talons, and false eyelashes. A bit too done up for work, if you see what I mean."
"If she looked that unbusinesslike, it's no wonder he didn't want her to meet the clients."
"That wasn't the worst of it, though. She was called Sondra, and she had friends in high places, if you take my meaning. There was a top exec here once who worked under Mr. Rubin as his protégé. Mr. Pierce didn't hire Sondra, you see.
"I think I'm starting to.
"One day out of the blue, a work crew showed up and started remodeling this office, and put in the lavatory, sofa bed, and shower. The last assistant had quit when she got married, and they had agreed not to replace her for a while.
"But Sondra came barging in here one day while the work was going on and announced that she was now going to be working here. The big shot upstairs confirmed it, though there hadn't been a word up until that point. The boss was shocked, I can tell you."
"She sounds like she terrorized Mr. Pierce."
"Not really. They just stayed out of each other's way. I think he put her in her place pretty quickly. She did a lot of after-hours, er, entertaining in here. She made lots of men friends, and others used to come to see her here after closing time."
"She sounds like some piece of work! So what happened to her in the end?"
Sharon whispered, "After about eight months, according to a story spread by the cleaning crew on the job when it happened, her sponsor, who had not only hired her but set her up in a Park Avenue apartment, got fed up with all the 'overtime' she was putting in.
"Upon checking with Mr. Pierce, asking him why he was working her so hard, he found out that there had never been any overtime. And that she was terrible at her job, and Quentin wanted her out, the sooner the better.
"That night her sugar daddy arrived at about seven when she was supposed to be working overtime, and caught her red-handed and bare-bottomed with a guy from the art department.
"That was the end of the job, the apartment, and the career. She was out so fast, her head spun and I hear tell no one on the Eastern seaboard will employ her now. So that's how Mr. Pierce got to hire his own assistant this time, you."
"That explains a lot," said Suzy. "I wondered why he never talks about her, and keeps his distance from me."
She shrugged one shoulder, and gathered up her cup and plate. "Nothing to talk about, well, nothing nice, anyway. He couldn't stand her. Well, I'd better get back to my desk. Mr. Pierce should be here soon. And thanks again for yesterday. And the Danish and coffee now. I'll let you know if I hear from Jerry."
"You do that. And best of luck with it, really."
Sharon left and Suzanna got back to work. She heard Quentin come in about ten minutes later and called to him through the open door, "I have coffee and Danish here. Would you like some before you start work?"
"I'd love it. Be with you in a minute."
When they were seated with their coffee and food, he said, "I had a real hassle getting a cab this morning. That's why I'm so late."
"I was beginning to wonder. I thought
maybe you took off for parts unknown, rather than go on that location trip with me tonight."
He flashed her a smile. "You know better than that. I've been looking forward to it. We can continue the 'getting acquainted' process on the flight down too. I think yesterday took us quite a good long way towards the answers we've both been looking for."
Quentin took a last bite of pastry, followed by a mouthful of coffee and said, "That hit the spot. I didn't have time for breakfast this morning."
"Neither did I, that's why I brought the pastry from home. Sharon had breakfast with me before you got here. This was my second coffee."
"Sharon is really good company."
"Yes she is."
"I'm glad that I got to meet her on a social basis. She seems a fine person. I'm glad you're getting along. I used to feel somewhat sorry for her. She doesn't seem to have any close friends here."
He was on his feet now, cleaning his place, but seemed reluctant to leave. She was as reluctant to have him leave. They looked at each other longingly, and then he clinked down his place and cup, and took a step forward.
With a lightning-swift motion, he reached up and snatched the pins from her hair, throwing them on her desk. Then he combed his fingers through it, tumbling it around her shoulders.
Then, taking her face between his hands he kissed her firmly on the mouth, a long, lingering kiss that sizzled right down to her toes.
But before she could mold herself to his lean, muscular frame, he released her, turned abruptly and sought the refuge of his own office. For once he closed the adjoining door.
Suzanna went into the ladies room to redo her hair, and stared at herself, bemused. She was sure she had the rumpled, beautiful look of a woman who had just been with her lover.
She was pleased to see she was finally beginning to get to him. She was glad she had squeezed in a visit to her doctor after all, and gone on the pill and bought condoms, just in case. The Bahamas might turn out to be everything she had hoped for and more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Suzanna did not see Quentin for the rest of the morning, so she tried to concentrate on clearing her desk for the time she would be away. She went to lunch with Sharon, and there they were joined by Brad Sherman. They spent the lunch hour talking shop, but a lot of it was speculation on the location trip and the weather there.
She did not get any bad vibe from Brad for a change, and to her surprise, there wasn't the least hint of innuendo about her going with her boss, as there might once have been.
She thought it was due to her dowdy appearance, but Grad said as they were clearing the table, "Have a great time in the Bahamas. You sure do deserve it, with all your talent."
"Thanks, Brad."
She went back to her office with her mood soaring. She had made it in Elder and Rubin by dint of hard work, with no favoritism. She has just about everything she wanted now. Everything except passion…
The rest of the day flew by, and before Suzanna realized it was time, Quentin was in the doorway asking, "Are you ready, Suzanna? The limousine service is picking us up to take us to Kennedy in about fifteen minutes."
"I just have to comb out my hair. My luggage is in the closet."
"Have you got much stuff?"
She shook her head. "I've learned to travel light. My suitcase is a carry on, and then I have the make-up case Femme Fatale gave me."
"Okay. I'll get them, and then go down and wait in case they're early. It's so busy out there, there's no place to park, or even stand."
She thought he would be gone long gone by the time she was done, but as Suzanna came out of the lavatory, Quentin was holding her coat.
"I thought you were waiting outside for the limo?"
"I didn't want to go without you."
She smiled and slipped her arms into her coat sleeves as he held it out to her, then drew it over her shoulders. He pulled the hood up over her chestnut hair to protect it against the rain.
He pulled up the handle of her wheeled bag, and she took her make-up kit and purse. He grabbed his own suitcase on the way through his office, and they left looking like two lovers leaving on a romantic getaway.
It was already quite dark when they reached the front door to the building, and though it was only the day after Thanksgiving, there was a decided December chill in the air.
Quentin put his arm around her, and they shivered together on the sidewalk for a few moments. Suzy was happy to see the limousine pull up right in front of them. In seconds, their luggage was stored and they were on their way. In just a few hours, winter would be far behind.
They went over the plans and schedules until they arrived at the airport, met Candy and Bruce and the other Femme Fatale staff coming on the shoot, and boarded the plane without too much delay.
Once settled in first class, Quentin said, "Enough of the Femme Fatal. Business for now. Let's just enjoy ourselves."
For some reason, being enclosed with a group of assorted strangers gave them a carefree feeling of anonymity. They sat with their heads close together talking softly about themselves, and before she knew it, they were holding hands. If Bruce or anyone one else from Femme Fatale noticed, they certainly didn't say a thing to spoil it.
As soon as they were airborne, the air hostesses took drink orders, then served dinner. For the first time, Suzanna saw a dark stubble starting to show on Quentin's flawless skin. It made him look more human, more boyish and devil may care.
She realized he must have brought a razor with him the day before when he was getting ready for the Thanksgiving dinner. So he did have a streak of vanity where she was concerned.
She reached out a tentative finger, but instead of stiff bristles, it was almost soft and downy. The sensual contact sent shivers down both their spines, and he kissed her fingers warmly.
"I sort of like you with bristles. And your jet black hair. They're really lovely."
"You wouldn't say that if you got a burn from them if I kissed you right now."
"Try me."
To her surprise he complied. A few minutes later he broke off the kiss with a shaky laugh. Then he stroked her cheeks and chin. "Hmm, not too bad. You must be made of tougher stuff than most women."
"It doesn't hurt at all. In fact, it was even better than one of your smooth, practiced kisses."
"I'm finally starting to relax," Quentin remarked. "Martinis have a tendency to do that."
"I've noticed." Suzanna smiled. "It was probably a good idea for both of us to have a drink or two, and a kiss. We've had a hectic couple of days."
"We sure have. I just hope this trip won't turn out to be all work and no play for you."
"I don't see how that can happen. We certainly won't do very much shooting at night, so even if I work all day, my evenings should be pretty much my own. Which reminds me, where are we going to be staying?"
"We have to go into Freeport, stay at the hotel overnight, and then we're to take a motor launch to a small private island, owned by Felix, I believe. That's where we'll do all the shooting."
"It sounds so exciting."
"He's opened his home as well as his guest house to us and provided a cook and housekeeper. Of course, on the island he has his own boat available if anyone wants to spend free time on the mainland."
"How lovely. It sounds like paradise."
"It will be good to get away from the northern chill, anyway."
She grinned up at him. "In more ways than one."
As they talked, both of them gradually lowered their guard, and though the sexual tension was chatted away like old friends without restraint or embarrassment. Dinner over, the trays were cleared away, and then the cabin crew dimmed the lights for the film.
Quentin whispered, "Do you want to watch it?
"No. Do you?"
"Not at all."
He kissed her then, and she giggled at the idea of them making out in the movies like a couple of teens. She said as much to him when at length he broke off the kiss.
"I must admit, I'm guilty as charged, but if you're having fun, we might as well let you make up for what you missed as a teen."
"It is fun, but frustrating too, if you know what I mean."
"Right, well, in that case, a little rest is in order. Femme Fatale you most certainly are, but you need your sleep too."
They lowered their backrests and turned off their overhead lights. He picked up her hand, kissed it with satisfactory fervor, and linking arms with hers, continued to hold her hand in both of his on his lap.
Suzanna turned toward him and put her free hand on top of his. They smiled a slow, sleepy smile at one another and were soon dozing.
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