Campaign for Love

by Annabelle Stevens

  He had come around her desk, and she was by now on her feet to meet him. They stepped into one another's arms with a sigh of contentment. It was like coming home.

  This time there was no holding back. They kissed one another passionately, but before the arousal could go too far, Quentin stepped away and said, "Let's go home. I want you, but I don't want it to be here."

  "Why not?" she said boldly. "It would be fun anywhere."

  "Because of some cheap, sordid affairs carried on here by my last assistant," he admitted tightly. "She hooked up with practically every guy who walked into the office. Sometimes they'd arrive before I left. She was the company's dirty joke. Behind her back they called her the porcupine."

  She frowned. "I always thought a porcupine would be someone unapproachable."

  "In this case, quite the opposite."

  He gave a succinct explanation, and she blushed. "That's awful, but accurate from what Sharon told me."

  "I wasn't sure that you knew about her."

  "I wasn't sure you knew it all either."

  He gave a wry smile. "Oh, I knew about her all right, but I didn't think it was any of my business as long as she let me alone. That is, until the V.I.P, who hired her started to gripe to me about all the overtime I made her put in.

  "I told him that not only hadn't she worked overtime for me, but I always stopped on the dot of five. That's how I got rid of her. It was laughable to call her my assistant. The whole time she was here she contributed nothing. Do you understand now why I'd feel reluctant to make love to you on that couch?"

  She nodded. "I do. Let's go right to your apartment. My bag is in the closet. I think I saw some frozen dinners in your fridge this morning. We'll fix dinner and then watch some T.V. or something."

  He winked at her. "If I have a choice, I'll take the 'or something'."

  "I was hoping you would. Let's take a cab. We'll get there faster."

  "That's my modest little shrinking violet."

  She giggled. "I have a lot of catching up to do."

  "If we catch up any more, I'll be old before my time."

  She gave him a dazzling smile. "I've heard that sex is good for you and helps keep you fit and healthy."

  He winked at her broadly. "Then we ought to be two of the healthiest people in the whole USA. Olympians, in fact."

  "Well, if you'd rather not...."

  "Bite your tongue! Let's get that taxi, quick."

  As it happened, they did watch TV for a while because the Imperial Foods commercials were running. They saw some of Suzy's Quik-Bix recipes and one of the Spudz.

  The campaign was in its third week, and already, the results were impressive. In fact, according to what Quentin had read that day once they had got back to the office, rolls of Quik-Bix and packages of Spudz were moving so fast that the stores couldn't keep up.

  Suzanna stayed at Quentin's apartment for the rest of the week. They watched for their spots on TV, and never tired of seeing their ideas come to life.

  Quentin gave Suzanna full credit for their successes. They watched together as unknown hands created the simple recipes, and got hungry just looking at the finished result, just like thousands of other consumers all over the country.

  Sometimes they'd even make up a batch of the Quik-Bix doughnuts and devour them with a fresh pot of coffee. Afterwards, they would lick the sugar from one another's fingers, sensually running their tongues down to the base between each one. The licking would get slower and more arousing, and long after the last trace of sugar had disappeared, they found a deep sweetness in the feel of tender flesh.

  Quentin would circle the palms of her hands with the hardened tip of his tongue until Suzanna felt it in every sensitive part of her. She could even feel Quentin's muscles contract as she did the same thing to his palms.

  In his case, the results were more obvious. They burned with desire for each other, and never seemed to be able to quench the fire.

  After a rousing sensing in the kitchen devouring one another, he would pick her up and carry her to his bedroom, where they would undress one another completely at last. Once more, they would kiss hungrily, open mouth to open mouth.

  Then his tongue would begin its magical tour of her body, starting with her eyes. She had both hands on him as he started his path down her eager body. She released him and held his head, stroking his hair, helping to guide it to where she wanted it to be.

  She writhed in anticipation once more as he approached the tender flesh of her inner thighs. He teased her as he licked tiny circles all over her sensitive parts. Then she would raise her knees high and opened herself to him like a flower to the warmth of the sun.

  When he had made her completely ready, they would join as one, and reach the pinnacle, where they hung for a dizzying second before sinking into blissful release.

  They clung together moistly as they pressed their lips in a kiss of avowal and commitment. What they felt was not mere physical satisfaction, she was sure. It was a complete involvement of body, mind and spirit, born of love.

  "This," sighed Suzanna, "is what making love is all about. This isn't like I've seen it in the movies and on television, is it, darling?"

  He kissed her belly tenderly before replying, then moved up to her level in the bed from where he had collapsed some time before. "No, my lovely, it certainly isn't. This is real, it's private, and it's personal. In a movie, it's just two strangers getting paid to put on a performance. Watching it may excite one physically, but it can't touch the deeper emotions."

  "That's true. But I think that if anyone were to watch us, their emotions would be stirred. I love you so much, my dearest, I don't know how I existed all these years without you."

  "Nor I without you. You were right, you know. There's a vast difference between having sex and making love. I can truly say now that I never made love until you taught me how."

  She laughed. "That's silly. I've learned everything I know from you."

  "Not true, my darling. I showed you the mechanics. The rest, you knew instinctively before I did. Thank you."

  They smiled sleepily at one another, curled up together and were soon asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Suzanna and Quentin had been back from the Bahamas for a little over a week when they saw the first of the Femme Fatale commercials on the air.

  They had been watching an old flick on TV when they were electrified to see Sensible Suzanna, hair up, little make-up, and tailored travel suit stepping off the plane.

  Quentin could be seen following her. A voice-over commercial was explaining that this efficient personal assistant was vacationing in the Bahamas.

  The scene dissolved to the white sandy beach where a transformed Suzanna in the white net string bikini was bending over a tide-pool. Then she turned toward the camera as if toward a lover, holding the tiny star-fish trophy.

  From there, they back-tracked, while the voice over explained every step in her transformation as Bruce's deft hands applied the make-up and brushed her hair.

  Even Suzanna was surprised to see how photogenic she was. On Quentin's large- screen projection set, she was larger than life. The voice-over explained that the makeup was waterproof, perspiration proof and hypo-allergenic.

  "That's fantastic. Nobody's paying any attention to the hype. They're too busy watching the camera make love to you. That Max is great. He's caught every gorgeous feature, skin, coloring, eyes."

  He drew in his breath and let out a long low, whistle. "If that doesn't sell Femme Fatale makeup, nothing will. It makes me want to go out and knock on doors to see if people are watching. Then, I'd like to tell them that's my girl. I have exclusive privileges. Somehow, seeing you on a screen is different. I want to pick you up off the screen and devour you."

  She smiled shyly and returned the compliment. "Did you see yourself getting off the plane? You look like a male-model yourself. I can't wait to see the one where you're holding me and we're supposed to be dancing."

 
"Just wait 'til the folks at Elder and Rubin see that. I'll be the envy of every man in the company," he said with a grin.

  She looked at him from under hooded lashes. "Especially if they were to find out just how well you know me."

  "That will never happen. I won't have them thinking you're another Sondra."

  She was pleased with the response in one way, but worried in another. Was he ashamed of what they shared?

  The following day, Suzanna got her first reaction to the ads from Sharon.

  As she walked into the office, Sharon jumped up from her desk, ran over and hugged her.

  "I can't believe I ever had the gall to try to tell you how to make yourself more attractive. You are absolutely the most..... You have a body that would stop traffic. I think I know now what you meant when you said it would be less distracting to keep your hair up and wear loose clothes."

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole story, but I wanted to make good here without anyone thinking I was getting by on my looks."

  "Well, I think you've proved your point. Why not be yourself now?" she suggested, staring at her as though she had never seen her before.

  Suzanna shrugged one shoulder. "I still haven't changed my mind about not wanting to get involved with any of the men here, especially after what you told me about most of them having bedded or should I say 'studio couched' Sondra."

  "You really can't blame the guys," replied Sharon. "Most men will succumb to a good-looking woman's overtures. It seems to be an offer they can't refuse."

  "Maybe. But from what you've told me, Mr. Pierce refused."

  Sharon nodded. "You're right, but she just wasn't his type. I'll bet he wouldn't turn you down. I noticed him in the background in that commercial, and I detected a look of admiration."

  "That could have been for the weather, the scenery, the airport."

  "Oh, sure," said Sharon, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "You looked amazing. So have it your way, but I'm entitled to my opinion. Anyway, congratulations on being Elder and Rubin's first celebrity."

  Suzanna shook her head. "I won't be a celebrity. My identity is being kept very hush-hush. It adds an air of mystery, and as long as they keep my name secret, I could be any woman who uses Femme Fatale. Not a star, so all women can identify with me. I doubt even most of the people here will guess it's me unless they know I went down to the Bahamas as Quentin's assistant."

  "It's going to be fun being in on a nation-wide secret," said Sharon.

  Suzy started toward her office but had an afterthought. "By the way," she asked, "what's new on the home front? Did you hear from Jerry since the last time we got to talk girl-talk?"

  Sharon positively beamed. "Yes, I've been out with him twice since."

  "Wow, great."

  "He's just wonderful. He's the first man I've dated since I got out of my teens who hasn't tried to get me into the sack on the first date. He didn't even make a pass, and asked permission to kiss me goodnight. Should I be worried?"

  "No. You should be ecstatic. It probably means he's serious about you. He knows you don't sleep around, and is showing his respect for your ethics."

  "How would he know that?"

  "Because he knows me, and he knows that if you did, you wouldn't be my friend."

  Sharon looked pleased as she thanked Suzy once more.

  "Nice talking to you, Sharon, but I'd better get back to work before the boss gets here. I'll see you at lunch." With a wave, Suzy took her leave.

  She went to her office, hung up her things and got to work. She knew Quentin would be late because he was stopping off to see a client on his way in. She tried to get as much done as she could without him being there to distract her. But what an amazing distraction he was….

  When he finally arrived, they exchanged quiet good mornings. Suzanna knew he'd soon find an excuse to enter her office and give her a sustaining hug and kiss in private.

  She was almost right. He first called Sharon for dictation, and when she returned to her office to type up all his letters, Quentin came into Suzy's office and closed the door behind him.

  "I love you and I've missed you, you beautiful, soft, tantalizing creature," he whispered before claiming her lips and tracing the length of her body with his sensitive hands.

  Suzanna molded herself to him as she tangled her fingers in his thick black wavy hair. They had become practiced in releasing one another before too strong emotions took over.

  "Love you too, my darling," she said.

  He placed a kiss in the palm of each hand and said, "Hang onto these until tonight."

  "With pleasure," she answered. "Your place or mine?"

  "Let's make it mine. I can see you better on my big screen. You know, it would make it a lot easier on both of us if you'd just move in."

  She stepped away from him. "I'm sorry, Quentin, but as much as I love you, it's all too sudden, all too new to me. I feel a need to keep my independence, especially now that my career seems to have taken an upward swing."

  He frowned, and tried to smile to cover his disappointment. "I guess I can't blame you for that, but the offer is always open if you should ever change your mind. Bye. See you later."

  Suzanna sighed, and went back to her desk. She kept on working until noon on her new campaign for Imperial foods, holiday desserts without the hassle.

  She thought about her meteoric rise ever since she had come to the company, but perhaps it was all happening too fast?

  Then she looked at the next folder on her desk, the results of her very first layout completely without Quentin's input, a beautiful color photo of pretzels covered in vari-colored and vari-flavored chocolate, with her suggested caption, "A new twist on an old favorite."

  It was good, damned good. The kind of thing she had always hoped to do. But was it Quentin helping her, or had it been within her all along and he was finally encouraging it all to come out?

  She wasn't sure, but she knew she had made the right choice by disguising herself and getting to know everyone before she came out of her shell. She was where she wanted to be career-wise now, and just looking at her, no one could ever say she had slept her way to the top.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  At noon, Suzy joined Sharon. Once in the cafeteria, she realized she had become something of a celebrity. If it hadn't been for the 'before' shots, most likely no one would have recognized her, but all the people she'd met since she'd been there, plus many she didn't know, came to congratulate her and tell her how much they liked the campaign so far.

  They were curious, though, as to why she didn't look more like the 'after' now, when they could see how she looked all done up. They couldn't believe anyone would want to be less than a Femme Fatale.

  Suzy just smiled and said she was more comfortable this way. Brad Sherman, still one of her most ardent admirers since she had refused to tell on him after his thefts of her ideas, came to her and was warm in his praises, both of the campaign idea and her transformation.

  She thanked him, and was pleased to see that once again, no one was making any snide innuendoes about her.

  During the following week, Suzanna and Quentin couldn't turn on a television set without seeing Suzy in various degrees of dress and undress, from evening gowns to bikinis.

  People started recognizing her on the street, in restaurants, in elevators and in subways. Reactions were varied.

  Some people would point and whisper to one another. If she was with Quentin, they would stage whisper, "That's the man in the commercials with her. He must be a model, too."

  If she was alone, they'd ask for her autograph. She always signed, "Yours 'before' and 'after,' Femme Fatale."

  Some were disappointed at not finding out her real name, but others were just as happy with the commercial one.

  Cosmetic sales were reaching a new high. Every woman wanted to be a Femme Fatale for the holidays.

  Their client was already planning a spring campaign around Suzy in as many roles as they could dream up. They woul
d start filming right after Christmas.

  Quentin would gladly allow her the opportunity and whatever time it took. It was called keeping the client happy. But more than that, he loved watching her blossom in every sense. No longer was her beauty to be feared, or something that could be used as a weapon against her. She was now an empowered woman, and ironically, it had been by becoming a sex goddess that she had been truly freed from the stereotype.

  The weeks flew by, and finally Friday December twenty-third was the day of the long-awaited Christmas Party. It was held in the company cafeteria, which had been decorated with greens and a tree for the occasion.