Red Hot & Blue 08 - Model Soldier

by Cat Johnson

  Emily walked into the meeting late, which was not her fault at all.

  Someone had fallen onto the subway tracks, so they’d stopped service to rescue the stupid person. She felt justified in calling the person an idiot because they weren’t hurt and really, who leans so far over the tracks to see if the train is coming that they actually fall in unless they are brain dead?

  Anyway, her train had been late. Consequently, so was she for a meeting with Katie and the big bosses—the owners of the agency—aka the guys who signed her paycheck. These guys were important.

  She was sticking with blaming the subway. It didn’t matter that she lived near enough to walk if she absolutely had to for any reason, like the trains not running. But it was a long walk and cold outside, and she had on her new red patent-leather shoes and there were a ton of puddles from a recent rainstorm.

  Emily tried not to think about how she had been running late that morning anyway after having slept like crap the night before because she was once again reliving her one night with Hawk.

  Her brain knew thinking about him was pointless. It should anyway, she told it enough. Yet the rebellious gray matter continued to disobey the minute the lights went out at night. She had no control over it.

  Apparently, Emily looked as flustered as she felt as she burst in and interrupted the conversation in progress.

  “Sorry.” Cringing, she flung her bulging briefcase on the conference table while at the same time offering that hurried apology.

  Mr. Howard, as in the Howard & Dean Agency, nodded in her direction but didn’t say anything about it. Hopefully that was a good thing, Emily wasn’t sure.

  Katie smiled sympathetically and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Tough ride in?”

  Thank goodness for Katie, smoothing things over. Emily answered with a short laugh. “They actually stopped the subway for like an hour for somebody on the tracks, but I’m here now. Ready to get to it.”

  “You’re just in time.” Mr. Dean, the other half of the partnership, resumed the meeting. “We were about to review preliminary results of the Army campaign. The client reports they’ve tracked a small spike in recruitment since the new Army ads hit. However—”

  Uh, oh. Howevers were never good.

  “—it’s not nearly as large a response as the SpecOps ads yielded last year. We need to evaluate why that is. Any ideas, people?” Mr. Dean glanced at the employees assembled expectantly.

  Katie shrugged. “I’d have to say that I’m not sure we can expect the same level of response. It’s apples and oranges trying to compare SpecOps and enlisted Army. We portrayed SpecOps as elite, which made people want it more.”

  Mr. Howard nodded. “That’s exactly why we didn’t take the same approach to the Army campaign. Our goal, which was successful in some respects and not so in others, is to show the Army soldier as a warrior, a protector of our freedom, yet at the same time, make it so that young men and woman can identify with him. Relate to him. See themselves in his shoes...or rather combat boots. Todd, the ad please.”

  Mr. Howard’s assistant, Todd, instantly held up one of the print ads. Suddenly Hawk’s piercing eyes bore directly into Emily as she stared at the glossy photograph before her.

  Her traitorous heart began beating faster.

  The perfect tag-team player, Mr. Dean took over where his partner had left off. “Take a look at this ad. Our man has the terrifying-warrior look down pat. The question is how do we make him appear more accessible to the average man and woman?”

  Katie sat up straighter in her chair and pushed aside the ever-present box of crackers she ate to combat the morning sickness. She kept it next to her at all times now since she’d decided to reveal her pregnancy to the entire company.

  “Perhaps that’s the difference in the response. Accessibility. BB did a press tour as the SpecOps ads hit. National television appearances on the morning talk shows, local radio stations in targeted areas, live appearances. We’re also missing the advantage of being connected to a big name. Remember, we piggy-backed the recruitment ads on top of a national Andre Milano underwear campaign starring BB.”

  Howard and Dean nodded as one.

  Emily nearly choked.

  Hawk was unhappy about posing for her in his uniform. She shuddered to think how he would react if they decided he had to pose in designer underwear. She cringed at the thought of having to tell Hawk he was going to be interviewed by the five chattering ladies of The View, like BB had so willingly been.

  She had to put a stop to this, and now.

  Emily raised her hand tentatively to speak. She was used to being the assistant, sitting silently, taking notes, supplying what Katie needed just like Mr. Howard’s assistant, Todd, and Mr. Dean’s assistant, Marci. She was not used to being an active participant, but as this was her assignment, she had to speak up.

  Mr. Dean noted her raised hand and bobbed his head in her direction with an amused smile. “Emily?”

  “Hawk, um, Staff Sergeant Hawkins, the model, is currently deployed in Afghanistan. We would have to get the approval of his superior officers to have him sent home for that kind of press tour.” Nervous, Emily spoke quickly, hoping all the while that the words I had sex with the model weren’t emblazoned in red across her forehead.

  “I don’t think there’s a need to have him sent back here.” Mr. Howard shook his head slowly. “Afghanistan is perfect. Do the tour over there.”

  Emily could almost see the wheels of his mind turning as the idea formed.

  She frowned. “But there’s a war on. I’m not sure I can get a United States soldier booked on Good Day, Afghanistan, even if they are on our side.”

  Her little joke earned her a frown from Mr. Howard. “I don’t expect you to. We need to show this soldier in his element, not sitting around drinking coffee and chatting with some show’s hostess. I want him eating with his men, working out at the base, training. Or, you know, a video of him handing out dolls or chocolate or whatever to the little Afghan kiddies.”

  Mr. Dean nodded vigorously. “That would cover the other aspect of this campaign. The client wants the market to realize the Army’s focus is the people over there. Giving the war a face the public can relate to is just as important as giving the Army a relatable personality. I think it’s a great idea.”

  Hawk wasn’t exactly a relatable personality.

  “I do have to agree with Emily on one point. There is a war on.” Katie jumped into the conversation. “Hawkins is a professional soldier and is already over there. But we’d have to send over Emily and at least one cameraman, ideally two, one for still shots and one for video. As untrained civilians, can we keep all of them safe? I’ve heard conditions can get pretty bad in some spots.”

  Emily’s hopes rose. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it was Katie. Though when she considered the dangers in Afghanistan, she had to think that living in New York City was probably pretty good training.

  “The USO sends people to the war zone all the time. Important people too. Celebrities. Robin Williams just got back and that Irish Tenor guy. There are always bands and singers over there performing for the troops at their bases.” Todd suddenly joined the conversation. He was obviously feeling bold since Emily, also an assistant, had spoken up earlier.

  Emily frowned at him, willing him to shut up.

  The last thing she had expected was to ever see Hawk again. The bastard hadn’t even bothered to email her lately and say he was still alive. Given that, she was not in any rush to fly to Afghanistan and have to work with him. He obviously didn’t want to see or talk to her or he would have emailed. And besides further bruising her wounded ego, flying into the middle of the war hadn’t been on her immediate agenda either.

  “Perfect. Great idea, Todd.” Mr. Howard smiled at his underling, who glowed under the praise, probably while he envisioned getting his own big solo assignment and moving up in the company.

  “Marci.” Mr. Dean turned to his assistant who s
at silently with her laptop open on the conference table clicking away as she took notes for him. “What can you find about the USO?”

  Marci’s fingers flew into action and didn’t it figure, she had the website up in no time.

  “They are a not-for-profit, privately-owned organization. Ooo, this is good. They offer what they call a ‘handshake tour’. Besides comedians and musical acts, they’ve had authors, sports figures and politicians on tour. Here’s a picture of that bicyclist Lance Armstrong with the troops. It says they have a USO center set up at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan.”

  “Where is our boy Hawk?” Mr. Dean asked Emily directly, shocking her out of her trance.

  “Kabul,” she reluctantly supplied, feeling her cheeks blush at the mention of our boy Hawk.

  “Marci. How close is that to Bagram?” Mr. Dean asked.

  “I think they’re pretty close.” Know-it-all Todd jumped in once again uninvited.

  Emily sat silently as Marci’s fingers clicked, knowing damn well after already obsessively studying the Afghan map that Bagram and Kabul were very close, on the map at least.

  Before Marci could tell them that, Emily’s hand shot up again. “But Hawk isn’t a celebrity like Lance Armstrong. Why would the soldiers want to shake hands with just another soldier?”

  Mr. Howard answered her. “We’re not trying to make Hawk a celebrity among other soldiers, but we do want them to relate to him and feel good that he’s representing them to the world. But more importantly, this tour is a photo op. It’s for the people back home who need to feel good about where their young men and women and hard-earned tax dollars are going. Photos and videos of him there, properly placed in the media here at home, will accomplish that.”

  “Bagram Air Base is an hour drive north of the capital city of Kabul, Mr. Dean.” Marci looked absolutely gleeful at finding that out for her boss.

  Damn efficient Marci.

  This could not happen. They had agreed in the bar before any of the incredible sex they would never see each other again. He hadn’t made contact since landing in Afghanistan so she had to assume he hadn’t changed his mind.

  Emily simply could not face seeing Hawk and having him blow her off, not after he’d occupied her mind night and day for weeks now. Besides that, he didn’t even want his men to know about the print ads, and now her bosses wanted him to conduct a celebrity handshake tour. He’d flip out over that and probably take it out on her. She had to stop this runaway train.

  “Hawk isn’t in the city. I believe he and his soldiers are in a primitive camp somewhere in the Kabul Province in the mountains along the Pakistan border.” Emily realized too late that was an awful lot of information for her to have about a model she’d worked with only once.

  Mr. Howard raised an eyebrow, his coffee mug poised halfway to his lips. “I take it you can get in touch with him somehow?”

  Emily blanched. She’d emailed him once while he was still in Germany. After his response, she’d had no intention of ever doing it again.

  “Um, I don’t know. I suppose so. I can try emailing him, but the satellite internet can be iffy there...I believe.” Yeah, she didn’t sound too much like she’d become a stalker and read everything she could get her hands on regarding the troops in that area. “But again, it will be up to his superiors to allow him to come to Bagram.”

  “The client is the US Army.” Mr. Dean tapped his copy of the client folder on the conference table. “If they want their own campaign to succeed, I don’t see that they’d have a problem working with us by loaning out one soldier for a few days.”

  “True,” Mr. Howard agreed. “But it never hurts to cover all the bases when dealing with the military.” He swiveled his chair to face Katie. “How about your contacts? Can you get this Hawk ordered to do a USO handshake tour?”

  Katie smiled. “I’ll call Hank Miller from CentCom and see what he can do. That man is amazing when it comes to getting people to do things.”

  Mr. Howard donned a satisfied smile. He loved nothing more than pulling strings. “Excellent.”

  Smiling too, Mr. Dean nodded. “This may actually work out perfectly. If we can hook him up with a celebrity already on a scheduled tour, we can piggyback on their publicity and the troop support. There’s our missing star power that we had with the Milano-SpecOps joint campaign. Marci, can you forward the USO information to Emily?”

  “Already emailed. And they have contact information and phone numbers listed right here on the site.”

  Oh goody. “Thanks, Marci.” Emily tried to sound sincere.

  Mr. Dean started shuffling papers into a pile and stashing them into various folders, which he shoved at Todd. “Emily? Can you handle coordinating the USO aspect?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Great. Keep us informed.” Mr. Dean clicking the latch on his briefcase closed sounded to Emily like the final nail in her coffin.

  “This is an important client,” Mr. Howard added, as if Emily didn’t already know that paralyzing detail. “I want to be apprised every step of the way.”

  With that, Howard and Dean both rose and the meeting was over.

  As the room emptied, Emily remained frozen in her seat. This was going to happen. She would have to see him again, do her job and do it well and all while pretending that everything was perfectly okay.

  For maybe the thousandth time since Germany, Emily revisited her and Hawk’s final moments together.

  “You going to be able to get back to the base okay?” she’d asked that morning, suitcase packed and zipped and ready to go to the airport.

  “Yeah, I kept one of the cars we came in and made the rest of the guys cram into the other two.” Hawk had run a hand up her arm to cup her face and then said, “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh, oh. Are you sure that’s safe? You thinking?” Emily had teased him to avoid tearing up at their parting.

  He’d grinned at her then, and she remembered her heart skipping a beat. That was when she’d known saying goodbye and meaning it was not going to be as easy.

  “I was thinking that it might be kind of cool if you did email me the pictures. I’d like to have them, you know, just for fun. Might be good for a laugh.” Hawk’s words had made her heart and her hopes surge.

  She’d nodded. “Oh, sure. I can definitely do that. No problem.”

  Yeah sure, no problem at all, except that she’d emailed him the pictures the moment her feet hit US soil and had gotten exactly one word back from him by email. “Thanks.” That was it.

  And that is what she got for hoping, for planning, for thinking that an agreed-upon one-night stand could be anything more.

  “You gonna be okay with this? Em?”

  Emily was yanked away from her memories with a jolt. Katie had been talking to her. “Hmm?”

  “Going to Afghanistan, into a war zone? Are you okay with that?” Katie clarified when Emily gave her a blank stare.

  “Oh yeah. I’m great. Actually, I’ve always wanted to see Afghanistan.” Emily joked to cover her discomposure.

  “You sure?” Concern was clear on Katie’s face.

  “Yeah. I’m sure.” Compared to seeing Hawk again, the war was the least of Emily’s worries.

  “Are you going to email Hawk with the good news?”

  The question was perfectly innocent. Katie knew nothing about Emily’s night with Hawk. Katie had no clue how much she dreaded having to contact Hawk since she’d chosen to keep her little indiscretion in Germany to herself.

  “Um, I think I’ll get everything ironed out first with the USO and wait to get approval from the Army. No use getting Hawk involved if we might have to cancel.” With any luck they wouldn’t get approval. Emily felt like a traitor to her company for wishing that, but it was true.

  Katie nodded. “You’re right. I’ll be interested to see how the USO feels about our idea.”

  The other question remaining was exactly how angry Hawk was going to be about
this. It wasn’t going to be good.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Can I borrow your toothpaste later, Hawk?” Wally asked after a mouthful of food. “I’m out until my next care package gets here from Mama.”

  Whenever the hell the next supply drop would be.

  Hawk sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

  Wally grinned. “Thanks. I’ve got an extra deodorant if you need it.”

  Hawk raised a brow. “Thanks.”

  If the temperature reached above freezing in the near future, Wally’s antiperspirant might be a hot commodity, but at the moment the chance of sweating seemed pretty slim.

  Personal items at their forward operating base in the Kabul Province were scarce, to put it mildly.

  Hawk and his squad were far from anyone else, including their own unit. No base meant no store, which meant some basic necessities, things like toothpaste and, believe it or not, forks, were hard to come by. Guys actually walked around with their forks in their pockets to make sure they didn’t lose them or no one swiped them.

  You pretty much had to come stocked with everything you would need, borrow from one of the other guys or do without until more arrived from home. Hawk’s camp was so remote that supplies were sling loaded beneath a chopper, flown in and then dropped. Unfortunately, you never knew when the supply drop would arrive. Or exactly where it would end up crashing to the ground.

  It seemed the only convenience they did have on a regular basis was internet access. Go figure. A hell of a lot of good email did Hawk since he’d vowed to himself he wouldn’t maintain contact with Emily while he was downrange.

  Basically, it seemed the only things to do there were fight, write—for those who had someone to write to—clean weapons or reload mags. Fun stuff.

  Oh, and think.

  There was far too much time to think. More often than not, Hawk’s thoughts turned to Emily and their one night together. Then his mind went to that day right after they’d been together when she’d emailed him in Germany with his photos.