by Sophia Renny
The room was silent for what seemed to Maggie like several minutes before Rob and Tim nodded at each other and Rob said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner.”
“I’ve heard that slogan somewhere before,” Kayla said, giving Rob a sweetly puzzled look.
“There’s no copyright on it,” Dan argued. “It’s a quote that goes back to around five hundred years before Christ.”
“Herodotus?” John asked.
“Heraclitus.”
“Geez, who knew you were so wicked smart?” Samantha gave Dan a teasing punch on the arm.
“It doesn’t matter how many times it may have been used before or for what purpose,” Tim said, his mellow voice pulling everyone’s attention to him as usual. “It’s the concept as a whole that works. It’s sexy and sophisticated. I want to see the same story from the female perspective. Give me two more storyboards around this and have it on my desk by noon.”
The next few days were a whirlwind as the teams worked together to flesh out both the print and television ads needed for the pitch. Maggie spent hours sifting through headshots, searching for the man and the woman who were so pivotal to the ad’s success or failure. He had to have dark hair and blue eyes. Ideally, she would have been a redhead, but Maggie settled on a brunette who had very expressive and appealing features. Both actors ended up being perfect.
Maggie had just returned from the production studio when Tim called her into his office. “Shut the door.”
She raised her eyebrows at his tone. It was unusual for him to sound so agitated. “What’s up?”
He began pacing between his desk and the window, hands on his hips. Finally he heaved a sigh. “There’s just no good way to say this. Kayla’s coming to New York with me, Rob and Mike to give the pitch.”
Maggie pressed her lips together and began a slow internal count to ten as Tim continued. “I know this is your brainchild, Maggie. Hell, we wouldn’t even be in this position if Jason Armitage hadn’t spotted that Goldfinch ad in the first place. I gunned for you, I truly did. But Kayla is a pro at pitching. She and Rob play well off of each other. And…well…” He scratched his head, looking even more uncomfortable.
“Just spit it out, Tim. I can take it.” Lord knows she’d taken enough in her past thirty years to weather whatever he had to say to her.
“Maggie, this is in no way a come-on. You know you’re absolutely gorgeous. But you blush a lot and you can sometimes come across as reserved and shy. That works well in some client-facing situations, but not this one. Kayla is cool and unflappable in front of the client. I know you’ll reach that point with more experience, but this campaign is just too important. We can’t put you in front of this caliber of client just yet. Please tell me you understand.”
He looked so upset and uncomfortable that Maggie couldn’t help but give him an appeasing smile. “That's okay, Tim. I understand.”
“You’ll be getting full credit for this one, Maggie. Once we have the client in the bag I’ll introduce you.”
Maggie was already backing towards the door. “Sure, Tim. Uh, I need to get back to the print ad copy. Just let me know what else you need from me for the pitch. I know you guys are going to knock it out of the park!” And, with that, she spun on her heel and practically launched herself out of his office before he could notice the tears pooling in her eyes.
“That bitch. I swear she’s doing Rob. The two of them have been pretty tight lately.”
“Yuck, seriously? That’s a visual I do not want in my head.”
Samantha handed Maggie another tissue. They’d locked themselves in the ladies restroom. “This was your idea! You should be there.”
“No, Tim’s right. I blush way too easily. We’re trying to sell smooth, sophisticated and sexy. I’m none of those.”
“Hon, you are the sexiest woman in this building. I would die to have that hair of yours. And your body? Come on! From your first day at the agency you’ve had every guy staring at your backside with their tongues hanging out of their mouths. And that’s just killing Kayla. She used to be the hot stuff around here.”
Maggie laughed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. And what about you, Miss Cover Girl? I’ve seen the way Dan looks at you. Why don’t you just put him out of his misery once and for all?”
Samantha laughed with her. “And spoil all the fun? Teasing him is the highlight of my day. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. We’re going out to lunch. My treat.”
The following Wednesday everyone in the agency waited anxiously for word from New York. Tim had promised he’d call as soon as they’d finished up their meeting with Sean Bannister and his team. As two o’clock came and went, the anxiety grew. The pitch had been scheduled for one o’clock eastern. Given the one hour time difference, they should’ve heard from Tim by now. They were all huddled around Emily’s desk while she serenely filed her fingernails.
“Maybe they’re at a bar celebrating,” John wondered.
“Maybe Tim dropped his cellphone in the toilet,” someone else snickered. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Maybe they were abducted by aliens.”
“Maybe—”
“Good God. Enough already!” Dan threw his hands up in the air. “I could really use a bong hit right now.”
“I’ve got a pipe.”
“What the fuck, dude. You brought it into the building?”
“Yeah, so? You don’t think Tim is burning one in his office every night? That guy is way too mellow not to.”
“Don’t end a sentence with a preposition,” an intern chimed.
“Okay. That guy is way too mellow not to, smartass.”
Maggie exchanged a look with Samantha. “Why do I feel like I’m back in high school?” she whispered.
“Let’s go see if Rob left his liquor cabinet unlocked,” Samantha whispered back.
Emily’s phone rang.
“Put it on speaker phone,” Dan ordered.
Emily rolled her eyes. “Pelham and Mason Advertising Agency. How may I help you?”
Rob’s voice came through the line loud and clear, no speaker phone needed. “Emily, put Maggie on the phone.”
Everyone gaped as Emily handed Maggie the phone. Rob had not sounded pleased.
“This is Maggie.”
“Get your bag packed and head to the airport. I’ve booked you on a five o’clock flight on Delta to La Guardia”
“What?”
“Sean Bannister specifically asked to meet the person who came up with the concept. He won’t give us an answer one way or the other until you’re here. I’ll tell you the rest when you get here. I’ll be waiting for you in baggage claim.”
Rob apparently hadn’t calmed down one iota while waiting for Maggie to arrive in New York. “Tim’s in the car,” was all he said after greeting her in baggage claim. He took her carry-on from her and strode ahead of her to the exit. A black limo slid up to the curb almost immediately. Rob opened the rear door and guided her in ahead of him.
Maggie raised her eyebrows in surprise at Tim who was reclining in the luxurious interior. This didn’t look like a hired car. “It belongs to Jagz,” Tim said, confirming her unspoken question as Rob slid in next to her on the black leather seat.
“Why are they letting us use their car?” Maggie asked.
“We tried to refuse, but Sean was insistent. We would’ve been flying back this afternoon after the meeting if he hadn’t asked us to stay another night. They even put us up in a hotel.”
“That doesn’t sound like something they’d do if they weren’t seriously considering our ideas.”
Rob nodded. “You’d think so, right?” But he looked completely baffled.
“What happened in the meeting?”
“We nailed that pitch. Kayla was brilliant,” Rob said.
There was a tiny flicker of amusement in Tim’s eyes as he caught Maggie’s gaze. There’d been something more in Rob’s tone than just a boss praising his employee. Her
mouth twitched and she had to glance away.
“We could all see that Sean was completely buying into the concept,” Rob continued. “He kept nodding his head and smiling. He had us play the television spot three times.”
“Was it just him in the room?”
“Him, their marketing VP and their business development VP,” Tim said.
“And they all seemed to like it?”
“Absolutely.” Rob scowled. “Until Sean asked us to wait a few minutes while he showed the DVD to his boss.”
“I thought Sean had the final decision?”
“That’s the impression he gave to Mike. Sean said that the CEO happened to be in the building that day. He made it sound like Jason Armitage isn’t there that often. He wanted him to take a look. We assumed it was just an FYI kind of thing. We waited for about fifteen minutes before Sean came back. It was then that he asked who’d come up with the idea.”
Maggie frowned. “Did he still look pleased?”
Tim shrugged. “It was hard to tell. He was very pleasant but adamant that the boss wanted to meet the person or persons who’d come up with the concept. He couldn’t tell us why. He only said that Mr. Armitage had some questions for that person.”
Maggie couldn’t hide her unease. “What sort of questions?”
Rob threw his hands in the air. “It’s a mystery to me!”
Tim patted Maggie’s hand. “I’m sure it’s nothing drastic, Maggie.”
“Just the future of our agency,” Rob countered.
“Okay, that was so not reassuring,” Maggie retorted.
Rob heaved a sigh. “Sorry. It’s just the not knowing what the hell is going on that has me nervous.” He threw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her in close for a quick hug before releasing her. “None of us would be here right now if it wasn’t for you, Maggie. We’re counting on you now to get this account in the bag. I know you can do it.”
Maggie wasn’t so sure, but she put a serene mask on her face if for no other reason than to calm Rob down. “What time are we meeting with him?”
“They want us back at the office at ten o’clock tomorrow. In the meantime, get a good night’s sleep and plan to meet us in the lobby by nine. We’ll have one final pow-wow before heading over.”
It was well past midnight by the time the limo pulled up in front of a hotel in what Tim told her was the Flatiron District. She’d never been to New York before. In fact, today was only the second time in her life that she’d flown on an airplane. It’d been a much better experience than the first time. She kept that awful memory in its own compartment under lock and key.
She’d been so absorbed in her conversation with Tim and Rob that she hadn’t paid much attention to the passing scenery. Although she’d been to Chicago a couple of times, she’d always lived in a small town. It was amazing how much vehicle and pedestrian traffic there was still on the streets so late at night. Before they entered the hotel she paused a moment to take a deep breath. The air had a sour smell to it, like rotting vegetables. She wrinkled her nose. She’d take the pure Iowa air over this any day.
After instructing her to pick up her room key at the front desk, Tim and Rob headed for the elevators. A young woman, about Maggie’s age, stood behind the counter. As Maggie approached, the woman gave her a huge, genuine smile. “Oh, wow, I just love your dress! Is that vintage?”
Maggie smiled back. “Thank you, yes it is.”
“That peach looks great with your hair color.”
The dress was a sleeveless A-line in a light peach with a blossom pattern. A wide black waistband matched the trim around the scooped neck collar. There was some stretch in the material that had made it comfortable on the flight. Maggie ran one hand along the skirt. “Thanks! And I was told New Yorkers were rude,” she joked.
“Well, there are rude people wherever you go, sad to say. I think it’s the fast-pace here. Everyone’s in a hurry. People can mistake our abruptness for rudeness. I’m Pamela, by the way. Welcome to New York. Checking in?”
Maggie confirmed her last name and pulled out her credit card. Pamela shook her head. “All charges have been taken care of.” She slid a key envelope across the counter. “You’re in room twelve oh eight. The elevators are next to the gift shop on your left.”
Maggie frowned. “I’m sorry, which room did you say I’m in?”
“Twelve oh eight. It’s a very nice corner room. I’m sure you’ll like it. But please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any issues. Coffee will be available in the lobby beginning at five a.m. Have a lovely night!”
It had to be pure coincidence, Maggie thought as she walked dazedly towards the elevators, nothing more. Or maybe Sean Bannister had requested that room intentionally, a positive sign that they were going to get the Jagz account. Or maybe it was just a joke.
Maybe she was reading too much into things. As she stepped into the elevator she straightened her shoulders, shoving her chaotic thoughts aside. It’d been a very long day; she just wanted to take a shower and go straight to bed. Tomorrow—it was already tomorrow!—was going to be challenging.
The room was lovely. A large corner room with a king size bed, the décor sage green with gold details. After switching on the bedside light, she went to the window and pulled back the curtain. Her view was the office building next door, several of the floors still ablaze with lights. She stood there for a moment, watching a janitorial crew as they emptied trash cans and vacuumed around desks and cubicles.
A knock sounded on the door.
She spun around, heart in her throat, every thought and emotion harkening back to the last time she’d been in a hotel room, the last time someone had knocked on her door. What if…? No, the idea that first struck her was absolutely ludicrous. Impossible! Maybe it was housekeeping, checking to see if she wanted her bed turned down. At one o’clock in the morning?
She looked through the peephole and took a sharp, painful breath. This was a crazy dream; this couldn’t possibly be real…
He knocked again, louder.
With nerveless fingers, she slowly unlocked and opened the door.
“Hello….Joan.”
She was unable to speak, unable to breathe, entrapped by his piercing blue glare. Blackness crept into her peripheral vision as though she had blinders on. She swayed in her heels as her knees gave out on her. She pitched forward, dimly aware of him speaking, but his voice was drowned out by the thundering heartbeat in her ears. The last thing she remembered was being caught up in his strong arms, held close to his rock-solid chest before everything faded to black.
3
Rough-soft fingertips lightly brushing across her forehead and along her temple drew her slowly back into awareness. She opened her eyes, blinking groggily as his face gradually came into focus. His expression was stern with worry as he gazed down at her. “Welcome back,” he said in a gravelly voice.
She swallowed, her voice sounding just as raspy when she was finally able to form a coherent sentence. “This isn’t a dream?”
His fingers grazed along her cheek as a corner of his mouth quirked in a helpless smile. “No, it’s not a dream. How do you feel? Would you like some water?”
She nodded.
She watched him as he walked towards the bathroom. He was dressed casually in a long-sleeved burgundy shirt over dark blue jeans, the expensive kind. As he moved away she realized that she was lying on the bed. He’d removed her shoes. She scooted upright and leaned against the headboard. The neckline of her dress sagged, revealing her cleavage. Blushing, she tugged the fabric up.
“I had to unzip your dress,” he said, coming back from the bathroom with a plastic cup in his hand. “You were struggling to breathe.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed at her hip and offered the cup. She was shaking so badly she had to use both hands to raise it to her lips. Her eyes stayed locked with his as she took a few small sips of water before handing the cup back to him.
He set it on the nightstand. Fo
r a long moment he said nothing, only observed her through half-hooded eyes, his demeanor seemingly calm. Finally, he said, “It’s a good thing I decided to see you tonight instead of in my office in the morning. I didn’t realize my showing up here would be so shocking to you.”
She brought her hand to her throat. “You’re… you’re Jason Armitage.”
“Yes. I thought you knew.”
She frowned. “How could I have known that?”
“My first reaction when I saw your television ad was that it’d all been a set up. That you knew who I was six months ago and you were using our night together to gain some kind of leverage over me.” He raised his hand at her gasp of denial. “Asinine, I know. I realized as soon as you opened the door that you’d never expected to see me again.”
“I had a strange feeling when I saw the room number,” she whispered. “But I just couldn’t believe that it was anything but coincidence. What are the chances?”
“Three hundred million to one would be a guess.” His eyes gleamed with a peculiar light. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”
She hesitated. “You’re not angry with me, then?”
“No.”
“I’ve never fainted before. How long was I out?”
“Just five minutes or so. How do you feel now?”
“A little woozy.” She clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to still their trembling. “I still feel like I’m in some kind of crazy dream. It’s really you sitting there…”
He clasped her bare leg as though he couldn’t hold back from touching her any longer. His palm skidded upwards to the hem of her skirt where it lay just above her knee. Her shivering intensified, an aching burn of need instantly firing up her bloodstream.
“Maggie.”