“What if Mr. Flynn doesn’t like your ideas?” Worth said. “What will you do if he insists on going with his original plan?”
“I’ll simply do my best to point out why my ideas are better.”
“And if he’s adamant?”
“Mr. Flynn is prepared to invest a lot of money in our services because we’re experts in the field, and we know how to attract consumers. I think I’ve convinced him of that, which is why he decided to fly in to meet with me.”
“Just make the client happy,” Worth said. “This is an important account.”
Summer nodded. She knew one of the reasons Worth allowed her to handle the account in the first place was because Sam Flynn had asked to work with a female, which made sense considering the type business he was in.
“Before I forget,” Worth said, “I was contacted over the weekend by a nonprofit organization called The Good Shepherd. This group tries to find adoptive parents for handicapped children. Unfortunately, most couples are looking for healthy male babies and don’t want to take on the financial and emotional strain of raising a child with health problems. Since The Good Shepherd is operating on a shoestring, they can’t afford to hire a firm like ours. I gave them the names of a couple of agencies I thought might be able to assist them. If any of you knows of a good freelance person who might give them a cut rate, I’d appreciate your passing their names on to Max.” He checked his diamond-studded Rolex. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.” He nodded toward the group and left the table with Max close behind.
Summer spent the rest of the morning working on preliminary sketches for The Body Works, a title she hoped Sam Flynn would ultimately change.
Joyce tapped on the door and peeked in. “Mr. Worth wants to see you in his office,” she said. “What’d you do this time?”
Summer glanced up from her sketches. “No telling,” she said. “You know what a loose cannon I am.”
“Well, I’d tread gently if I were you. Max said he and his wife just had a raging battle on the phone over what she charged on a recent shopping spree in New York. That woman spends more money on clothes than Ivana Trump.”
“Just what I need,” Summer muttered, “an angry boss.” She checked her reflection in a small mirror and started out of her office as Joyce ran an index finger across her throat in a slashing motion. “Very funny,” Summer replied. “Just remember. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.” She made her way toward the suite of offices on the other side of the building, which was referred to as the Worth Penthouse.
Max greeted her warmly and told her to go right in. His real name was Maximilian; Summer often wondered what kind of parents would stick their son with a name like that. Although he was the only male secretary employed at Worth, he seemed to fit right in with the girls. All the men claimed he was gay, of course, but Summer had once remarked that it was nobody’s business as long as Max did his job. That hadn’t earned her any popularity votes with her male counterparts, but Max had been deeply touched when he’d learned through one of the secretaries that she’d taken up for him. As a result, he kept Summer abreast of what was going on in the company, giving her information the others weren’t privy to.
“Just don’t ask him how his wife is doing,” he whispered.
Summer winked. “Thanks for the tip.” She knocked on one of the double doors leading into Worth’s inner sanctum, then opened it and walked in. He was in the middle of a phone call. He motioned Summer to have a seat, and she sank into one of the comfortable leather chairs facing his desk.
Worth hung up and smiled at Summer. If he was in a hostile mood at the moment, he hid it well. “Thank you for coming right over,” he said. “I’ve got a tennis date at noon, but I wanted to touch base with you before I leave.” He glanced down at a leather notebook in front of him. “I’m aware that you and Warren share several key accounts,” he said. “Is that going to present a problem for you while he’s away?”
Summer had learned long ago that Edwin Worth didn’t like hearing about problems. He called it whining, and his company was no place for crybabies. No matter how bad the pressure, you stayed cool and pretended you were on top of things. “Nothing I can’t handle, Mr. Worth,” she said confidently. He obviously did not know how little work Warren actually performed. “My admin assistant, Joyce, truly goes above and beyond the call of duty, and she’s been here long enough to know the ropes.”
“Excellent,” he said, his tone telling her she had given him the correct answer. “Warren should be gone only a couple of weeks.” He closed the notebook and stood.
Summer stood as well, knowing she’d been dismissed.
“One last thing, Mr. Worth,” she began. “About that organization you mentioned. The Good Shepherd?”
“Yes. I wish we could help them, but if word got out we were cutting deals for nonprofit organizations—” He paused and shook his head. “It would not be in our best interest.”
“I would be willing to do the work on my own time free of charge,” she said.
“That’s very generous of you, Summer,” he said, giving her a fatherly pat on the shoulder, “and as much as I appreciate your generous heart, I can’t possibly allow you to take on more than you already have. You simply can’t afford to waste your time on nonpaying clients when you’re juggling multi-million-dollar accounts.” He brushed a tiny fleck of something white off his jacket sleeve. “Besides, you’re going to be under enormous pressure while Warren’s gone.”
Worth cupped her elbow in his palm and led her toward the door. “Just concentrate on doing the very best job you can on your present accounts.”
Summer watched him hurry toward the elevator and press the button leading to the lobby, and she knew the matter of Good Shepherd was closed as far as Edwin Worth was concerned.
Giving a dejected sigh, she made her way toward her office, where Joyce was in the process of taking a telephone message. “Hold on,” she told the caller. “Ms. Pettigrew just stepped in.” She pressed a button on the phone and looked up. “There’s a Cooper Garrett on line one. I asked the name of his company, but he said it’s a personal call. I don’t know what he looks like, but he’s got one heck of a sexy voice.”
Summer’s body reacted swiftly to the news. Her stomach fluttered as though a battery of moths had just taken flight. “Tell him I’m not in.”
Joyce looked surprised. “But I just told him you were.”
“Tell him—” She paused and sighed her frustration. “Oh, never mind, I’ll tell him myself,” she said.
Summer stepped inside her office and closed the door, then stared at the blinking button on her phone for a full minute before reaching for it. “Hello, Cooper,” she said, feeling at once breathless and light-headed as she remembered his promise in the elevator. “I’m sort of busy right now—”
“I wanted to see if you were free for lunch.”
“Sorry, but I have a previous engagement.”
“Okay, how ’bout dinner?”
“I’ve, uh, already made plans.”
He was silent for a moment. “Is this for real, or are you trying to brush me off?”
“It’s for real. I have to meet a client for lunch, and I’m picking Warren up from the hospital after work.”
“I could pick up Warren.”
“I told him I’d be there.” She remembered how pathetic he’d sounded on the phone. “I’d hate to disappoint him.”
Cooper frowned on the other end of the line. “Okay, what about tomorrow? I think it’d be a good idea if we got together before the benefit. To sort of get our stories straight.”
She sighed. “Cooper, I’m not going to be able to go to the benefit,” she said. “With Warren out, I simply have too much work to do on our joint accounts. Besides—” She paused. She’d already told so many lies lately that one more wouldn’t hurt. “I’m not feeling well,” she said, affecting a weary tone that she hoped was convincing. “I think I’m getting some kind of bug. It’s b
een going around the office for weeks now.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. “Are you taking something for it? Is there anything I can get you?”
His concern was so genuine that she was instantly consumed with guilt. “I’ll be fine,” she said quickly. “I just need to get to bed early and take care of myself for a few days. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”
“So you’re going to call Henrietta and cancel?”
“Yes. I know she’ll be disappointed, but once I explain things, she’ll be okay.”
“My phone number is unlisted,” he said. “Let me give it to you in case you need something.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said, not wanting him to think she was one of those helpless, clinging women who couldn’t survive without a man. “My client will be here shortly,” she said. “I have to go now.” She hung up and went back to sketching, but her mind wasn’t on her work. She found herself pausing every so often and staring into space. Finally, she shook herself. She had a presentation soon. She had absolutely no business daydreaming about Cooper Garrett!
Cooper heard the click in his ear telling him she’d hung up. So this is how she planned to play it. He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on his desk as he considered his next move. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was somewhat confused. He liked knowing where he stood with a woman, but with Summer he was clueless. One minute she was responding to his kisses as though she couldn’t get enough; the next thing he knew she was trying to run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
He chuckled softly. He’d never met a woman who seemed so determined to prove to herself and the world that she didn’t need anybody. It was up to him to show her that needing other people in your life didn’t make you weak.
Summer Pettigrew didn’t know the kind of man she was dealing with. Once he made up his mind to have something, he let nothing and no one stand in his way.
He would have her. Simple as that.
#
Joyce knocked on Summer’s door at noon and told her that Mr. Flynn had arrived. Lunch had already been delivered from a nearby deli, all health-conscious food. Knowing how hectic her client’s schedule was, Summer planned to give her pitch while the owner of The Body Works ate his lunch.
Sam Flynn, a striking, well-built man in his late forties, was ushered inside Summer’s office by Joyce. He wore an expensive dove-gray double-breasted suit and Hermes tie. With his deep tan and aviator sunglasses, he looked like someone who’d just spent two weeks sun bathing on a Greek island. He removed his glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his jacket as Summer greeted him with a handshake and motioned him toward the sofa. “I’m so glad we finally meet in person,” she said. “I took the liberty of ordering lunch,” she added as Joyce carried in a tray of food. The food had been removed from the sack and placed on china that Worth Advertising kept in a kitchen for just such purposes, and two crystal goblets were filled with ice for bottled water. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“As long as it’s healthy food,” Flynn said. “I abhor junk food.”
“As do I,” she replied, feeling like a hypocrite because of the Godiva chocolates and honey-roasted peanuts she kept stashed at the back of her desk drawer. Joyce caught Summer’s eye and mouthed the word, liar, on her way out.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get started on your lunch, Mr. Flynn, while I show you what I have in mind for your weight-loss centers,” Summer suggested. “I think you’ll find the whole concept exciting.”
Flynn did not bother looking at the food, his attention was riveted to her legs. His eyes climbed upward and paused at her breasts. He shot her a smile that had a come-hither look written all over it. “Call me Sam.”
Summer took a deep breath and spent the next half hour pitching her ideas, although she wasn’t sure Sam heard a word she said. He was too busy ogling her.
“In other words,” she said, “the last thing you want to do is compete with the average run-of-the-mill gym because your product is not average; therefore, the average person can’t afford your services. You are trying to attract a more sophisticated clientele, women in management positions, CEOs, business owners, and those who can naturally afford what you offer. Also, because these would-be clients are at the top of their game, they are more likely to have a higher level of stress. Smart women know they need to take care of themselves.”
Sam nodded. “That makes sense.”
Summer had given enough presentations to recognize Flynn was playing with the idea. It hadn’t clicked yet; it was her job to make it happen. “I would also recommend a very soothing color scheme,” Summer said. She pulled out paint samples. “Certain shades of blue are very calming,” she added, placing the colors before him. I would choose one of these colors, add a light neutral color like beige or white, and use only those colors. I guarantee your customers’ stress level will start dropping the minute they enter your place of business.
“Additionally, you’ll need a logo. I’ve come up with a couple of silhouettes. Tell me what you think.”
He looked them over. “All three look great,” he said, as though surprised Summer had managed to come up with them. “This one looks like a woman giving herself a hug.”
“Yes,” Summer said. “It fits with the idea that your customer cares enough about herself to create a healthy lifestyle.” Summer paused so he could take it in. “This one,” she said, moving to the next silhouette, “shows a woman cheering. I think it’s important because it addresses her many successes, including her choice to see to her personal needs.”
Flynn nodded but said nothing.
“I know this is going to sound rather odd at first,” Summer said, “but I think your suggested sign-up fee should be raised.” Summer showed him a mockup of a gym bag. “Before you think of this as just another gym bag, please note, it is not only classy looking, it is practical. Each women who joins should receive such a bag with the name of your business, your logo, using your signature colors.”
Flynn looked at her. “I would have to raise my signup costs by fifty to one hundred dollars if I provided a bag like that. I’m not sure why it’s that important.”
Summer did not hesitate. “For one thing it offers free advertisement. Secondly—” She paused. “To give an example, several years ago my grandmother and I took a ten day vacation to Paris. She purchased a purse at Gucci’s. She was more impressed with the bag than the purse. She carried the bag with her for most of the trip. I noticed one important thing. Everybody noticed her bag, and they were impressed. Your clients are likely to feel the same about these slick gym bags.” She smiled. “They will want one.”
Flynn seemed to ponder it. “I’ll have to think about it.”
Summer shrugged. “Take all the time you like.”
He looked surprised. “You mean I’m not going to get a hard pressure sale?”
“That’s not the way we do things here, Mr. Flynn.” She sat down and reached for her own sandwich. “You’re welcome to check with our competitors. When you’re ready to do business, we’ll still be here.”
He studied her closely, as though photographing her with his eyes. His gaze fell to her long legs once again. “You’ve never visited my weight-loss centers, have you?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Perhaps it’s time you had a look. I would like to show you the one in West Palm Beach; it has all the bells and whistles. We could fly down in my private jet for the weekend. Soak up a little sun while we’re there.”
“It sounds wonderful,” she said. “That way I’ll have a chance to meet Mrs. Flynn.”
He gave an indiscreet cough. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. My wife is terrified of flying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “Perhaps I can meet her another time. In the meantime, why don’t you make the necessary arrangements, and Joyce and I will arrange our schedules accordingly.”
“Joyc
e?”
“My admin assistant.”
He laughed softly. “Miss Pettigrew, you are either very coy or very dimwitted,” he said. “Which is it?”
Summer smiled. “I’ve never been accused of being dimwitted.”
He put his hand on her knee. Summer didn’t so much as flinch. “You have no idea how much I’m willing to spend on advertising,” he said. “This account could mean a lot to your career,” he said.
Summer met his gaze. It was not the first time a client had made a pass at her. Fortunately, most men were professional in their business dealings. “Perhaps,” she said, “but choosing the right advertiser is going to mean the difference between success and failure for your companies.”
Summer removed his hand from her knee and pushed the call button on her phone. Joyce answered. “Please join us,” Summer said.
Joyce appeared almost immediately. “Yes, Miss Pettigrew?” she said, using her formal tone.
“Would you please show Mr. Flynn his way out.” Summer’s tone was cool but professional.
Sam Flynn looked stunned. “You’re kidding, right?” He looked from Summer to Joyce, then back at Summer. “You do realize I can take my business and my money elsewhere.”
“Of course I do,” Summer said, giving him a pleasant smile. “Have a nice day, Mr. Flynn.”
Joyce touched his shoulder. “Please allow me the extreme pleasure of escorting you to the elevators,” she said, none too friendly.
He bolted to his feet. “You can wipe that smug look off your face, Miss Pettigrew,” he said. “Worth Advertising is not the only game in town.” He looked at Joyce. “I know my way out.”
Summer waited until he was gone, then buried her face in her hands. “Dammit!”
Joyce crossed her arms. “I take it his behavior was inappropriate?”
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