Thinking back on the hours and hours of research she had done on the brand, including visiting stores that sold the products, her heart ached. That should be me working with Lloyd, brainstorming and creating, instead of cleaning up Chip’s details.
By the end of the day in the third week of her new assignment, she had completed all the tasks from Chip and had a splitting headache. She popped two ibuprofen tablets and packed up to leave when Lloyd popped his head in.
“Busy tonight?”
She stared at him. “Do you want to come by?” There was a note of hope in her voice.
“Yeah. Having dinner with Pete and Jerry tonight. Can I see you after?”
“Spending the night?”
“It’s during the week. You know the drill.”
“Yeah. I forgot. Okay. Why not?”
He shot her a lascivious grin and disappeared as fast as he had appeared. Brooke walked home, trying not to think about her day. Chip Melton was overly cheerful, but ignorant about how great advertising was created and what would work for his client. She could see that the pro bono account, a charity, didn’t mean anything to the agency. That work wouldn’t be worth even putting on her resume. She was running in place, career-wise.
She ran a bath with lilac salts. Soaking in the tub relaxed her. She anticipated a steamy time with Lloyd. Slipping into a turquoise silk robe, Brooke poured herself a glass of wine. She reheated spaghetti and meatball leftovers from Bess’s and ate while she watched the news.
Classical music always calmed her down. She put on Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons,” sat back on the sofa, and propped up her feet while she waited. At nine o’clock, her buzzer rang. She let Lloyd up and smiled for the first time in days.
He burst through the door brimming with news about the account. He pulled out papers and rambled on about ad campaigns, until she stopped him.
“Wait a minute. Did you come here wanting my help with Lady Gray?”
“Of course.”
“And nothing else?”
“A little nookie on the side?”
She laughed. “You’re something else. I’m not on that account. I’m not going to do my job for that weenie, Chip, during the day, and then work for you in the evening. I’m off that piece of business, Lloyd.”
“I couldn’t help it, Brooke. I didn’t want to take you off. I need your advice, your opinion. You know this account better than anyone. Brian’s okay, but he’s not you.”
“Really? You don’t say.” She pushed to her feet and placed her fists on her hips.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“You’ve been working for weeks on this, without a word to me. You’ve shut me out. I haven’t seen you, talked to you, for three weeks. And we work in the same company.” I don’t want to break up with him, do I? Why am I having this conversation?
“You’ve got to understand. This business is brutal. I’m just trying to survive. We’ve got something…special. Don’t ruin it, now.” He stepped closer to her. Snaking his arm around her waist, he pulled her up against him and bent his head to kiss her neck. “Come on, hot girl. Forget the business. Give me some sugar.”
Brooke hesitated for a moment before she gave in. She tilted her chin up to receive his kiss. His lips were soft and coaxing at first then hard and demanding. Her knees bent as she lay down on the sofa. Lloyd unbuckled his pants before dropping them and his boxers. He was already erect. He yanked off his tie and tossed it on a chair.
“I’ve missed this…you,” he said, leaning over to open her robe. He stared at her body then closed his hands over her breasts. She unbuttoned his shirt.
Brooke warmed at the feel of his hands on her, but chilled at his hard expression of lust. In the past, his touch, desire in his eyes, and a whisper in her ear could get her juices flowing. Tonight, he was rough, distant. There was no laughter on his lips or in his gaze. He wanted her as a man wants a woman, but not with love.
He nipped her breast.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, love. It’s been a while. I forgot how sensitive you are.”
“I’m not sensitive, you’re too rough. That hurt.”
He stopped her words by closing his mouth over hers. Lloyd knew all the buttons to push and before long, Brooke had stopped thinking altogether.
“Ready?”
“God, yes,” she breathed.
Lloyd repositioned her legs and slipped inside her. He pumped hard and fast, bringing her to a climax quickly. He followed.
“Great. As always,” he said, smiling at her.
Brooke traced his lower lip with her finger. Good, not great. She pushed his locks back from his forehead and ran her palm down his chest, through the blond hair there, stopping at his abs. “Still working out?”
“When I get the chance.” He circled her nipple with his thumb as he sat back on his haunches.
Brooke pushed up on her elbows, and Lloyd got out of her way. She padded off to the bathroom. When she returned, he had his pants on, but his shirt still hung open.
“Baby, tell me. You had a special take on positioning Lady Gray’s for seniors. What was the strategy?”
Brooke sighed. Yeah. I’m gonna help you. She slid her arms into her robe and tightened the sash before sitting cross-legged on the sofa.
“Seniors have less overall income, but more disposable income, because their kids are grown. So, they shouldn’t be ignored. They’re more likely to spend money on something they consider a treat for themselves.”
Lloyd pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and a pad from his briefcase. He took notes as she spoke. She sighed as she glanced at his face, so eager to have her thoughts. I’ll help you. But this is the last time. Gotta have some pride here.
In an hour, he was gone. Brooke thought she’d feel better having spent time with him, but the opposite was true. Restless, she paced in her small apartment. At midnight, she picked up a book and read until she fell asleep.
In the morning, she dressed and walked to work, thinking of ways to let Lloyd down easy. Their relationship was over. Her feelings for him had evaporated with her trust. Use me once, your fault, use me twice, mine. Determination to end it grew in her heart. I’ll find someone else. I’ll get another job. I will prevail. He’s not the only man, and Gibbon & Walters isn’t the only ad agency.
A sense of calm washed through her. Her smile to the receptionist was genuine, and the confident stride was real. The first thing she did was update her résumé and send it to her private email. Next, she checked Craigslist for jobs. If Lloyd finds me doing this—I don’t care.
At lunchtime, she spied him sitting alone, eating a sandwich at his desk. She entered and closed the door behind her. “We have to talk.”
“Uh oh. What did I do now?” He took a bite then put his ham and cheese down.
Brooke took the chair opposite him. “I think we should break up.”
“What?” He rose up slightly.
“Yep. This isn’t doing it for me, anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we should stop seeing each other. It’s clear we’re not in love. And I don’t want to be your booty call.”
“You’re much more than that, Brooke.”
“Am I? A booty call and marketing advice. Gee. How romantic.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m kinda overwhelmed with this new account—”
“And your new client. Are you at her house servicing her every night?”
“What? Just because we spent a weekend together doesn’t mean I’m her boy.”
“It’s enough. Enough for me. Of you and of G & W.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m looking. I wish you well, Lloyd. Much success on the account. I hope you find a woman who meets your needs. You’re not meeting mine.” Brooke pushed up out of the chair and left a speechless Lloyd.
She smiled at the strength coursing through her veins. Even an email from Chip with a new to-do list didn’t
upset her. Another one arrived from Pete Walters, setting up a meeting with her for the end of the week. She wondered why. I hate waiting. Hope it’s not bad news.
She considered asking Lloyd what Pete wanted, but she didn’t want to face his anger or coldness. He can be vengeful. Best to let him cool off for a couple days. At the end of the day, Brooke walked home, whistling. She’d found a couple of job openings and had sent in her résumé and a cover letter.
She took a path parallel to the park, enjoying the early June fresh air and light green leaves on the trees. A few flowerbeds caught her eye as she strolled up Central Park West. Fire engine red mixed with grape-popsicle purple in a tulip bed.
The air was so pleasant she decided to take Freddy and Ginger on a walk after dinner. She trudged up the stairs. A letter taped to her door startled her. She ripped it off and went inside.
Another eviction notice! Damn! She poured a glass of Cabernet while she dialed her cousin Frank, a lawyer.
“Frank, I got another eviction notice taped to my door today. What the hell? I asked you to take care of this.”
“Hey, Brooke, paying business comes first. He has every right to evict you, by the way.”
“I pay my rent. And on time.”
“Any landlord can claim any apartment for a relative anytime he wants. And that’s what this asshole is doing. You can fight it and delay, but you’re only postponing the inevitable.”
“I love my apartment. I want to fight it.”
“Then come up with some money, Brooke. It’s not like you’re not working.”
“Do you know how much rent I pay?”
“Then I’d think you’d be relieved to move out and find a cheaper place.”
“I love it here. The apartment is fine, and I’m a block from the park.”
“Look, I’d love to help you, but you’ll have to wait. I’ve got people with real problems and money. They gotta come first. I have a family to feed.”
“Thanks a lot.” She clicked off her cell. I’m not going to think about it now. She switched on the television and heated up leftovers. An episode of her favorite reality show, Movie Designers, came on. She sat back, ate, and cleared her mind.
* * * *
Brooke dressed conservatively to meet with the president of the company, Pete Walters. He was in his late forties, attractive, gray at the temples, and dressed in a suit tailored to fit his slim build perfectly. Pete wasn’t tall, maybe five foot nine, but he had a presence and projected confidence. People turned to look when he entered a room.
She stopped at his secretary.
“Go right in. He’s expecting you.”
Brooke’s palms began to sweat, and her pulse kicked up. She entered and took a chair facing his desk.
“Miss Felson, I understand congratulations are in order?”
“What for?”
“For being an integral part of the team that won the Lady Gray account.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“Lloyd Simmons speaks very highly of you.” Pete stood and walked to his private coffee machine.
Why should I be embarrassed? I deserve Lloyd’s praise. Still, she sensed color in her cheeks.
“Care for a cup?” Pete prepared one for himself.
“Thanks, but I just finished one.” She shifted in her seat.
He strolled over to her. “He said you added many fresh ideas.”
“I did. Some.” Tension gripped her stomach as he moved closer.
“That’s not what I heard. In fact, I heard that Lloyd finds you indispensable both in and out of the office.”
“Now, wait a second! My personal life—” Brooke pushed to her feet.
Pete held up his hand. “I’m not criticizing. That’s none of my business, of course. But now that you’re working with Chip, I assume your…uh…close association with Lloyd is over.”
Brooke felt the heat in her face intensify. What the hell? “I don’t feel comfortable discussing that with you.”
“Of course. I shouldn’t even have asked. My apologies.”
He drew nearer. Brooke could hear her pulse beating in her ears. Her mouth went dry, and her legs felt a bit wobbly. Pete walked right up to her and pushed a strand of hair from her face with one finger. His touch made her blood run cold.
“But if you’re free, might you consider taking on another…close association? I know you’re on the Greenleaf account right now, but as soon as a new piece of business comes in, you’ll be reassigned.”
Brooke moved toward the window. “What a spectacular view, Mr. Walters.”
“Please, call me Pete. And when you’re standing there, I must agree, the view is stunning.”
Brooke swallowed, unable to get down the lump in her throat. She sensed him approaching, even though he made no sound on the plush carpet, like a snake slithering through high grass.
“You are lovely. Beautiful,” he whispered, planting a kiss on her neck.
A shiver of revulsion ran up her spine. He’s twenty years older than I am and married. “Please, Mr. Walters,” she said, moving away from him.
“Have dinner with me tonight. Maybe we can get better acquainted. Then, I’ll know more about where you belong in the company.”
“I don’t think so. You’re married.”
“Why should that interfere with our getting to know each other better?”
“No.” Brooke turned to face him. Stop being afraid and stand up for yourself.
His brown eyes dropped their drowsy, bedroom look and flashed at her. “Don’t be hasty. You might regret it.”
“Is that a threat?” The heat of embarrassment quickly turned to anger.
“Not a threat, exactly. But you do know that any personnel clocking too much time on a pro bono account adds a financial burden to the agency…”
“Are you threatening to fire me?”
“Drop this innocent act, Brooke! You know damn well no one works full-time on a pro bono account.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Oh, come on! We’re keeping you at Lloyd’s request. I promised him I would, for a month or two. If you cooperate with me, I could make that longer, much longer.”
Anger turned to outrage. “You mean I’m fired if I don’t sleep with you?”
“Don’t play little miss virgin with me. You were sleeping with Lloyd Simmons.”
“Lloyd is single. And that’s none of your business.”
“So, you refuse?”
“Damn right, I do.”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Fine. This is your last week.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He turned to his desk.
“You can’t do that. It’s against the law.”
“Your word against mine. And since we were keeping you beyond what we could afford, out of the kindness of our hearts, doesn’t look too good for you, does it?” He raised one eyebrow and shot her a frigid stare.
“Why, you cold-hearted—”
“Watch it! Right now, I’m giving you severance. One more word and that’s gone. You’ll leave today.” He turned his attention back to a paper on top of the pile on his credenza. “This meeting is over.”
Brooke thought she’d explode. Words of anger filled her head. She didn’t remember walking back from his office to her desk. Tears of indignation stung her eyes. Not gonna cry. Not gonna let him have the satisfaction. She packed up, determined to leave for the rest of the day, until an email from Lloyd popped up.
Please come to my office ASAP.
The last thing Brooke wanted was to meet with Lloyd, but she went. A deep, shuddering breath before she entered calmed her some. She sat in the chair opposite while Lloyd finished a telephone conversation. She chewed on a nail, trying to contain her anger, thinking about the words she’d use to describe the sleazy Mr. Pete Walters.
Lloyd clicked his cell shut. His blue eyes looked at her with sympathy. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He got up and fiddled with the thermostat. “It
’s hot in here, don’t you think?”
“What’s up?” She watched him closely.
“I’m sorry, Brooke. I have to do this.”
“What?”
“Take you through the process.”
Her stomach knotted. “What process?”
“The firing process. At least I was able to keep personnel out of it. Pete agreed to let me do this one-on-one.”
“Firing process?” Her eyebrows rose along with the timber of her voice.
“Keep your voice down, or they’ll call security.”
“Let ’em! Call the press!”
“What the hell? What did you say to him, anyway?”
“I turned down his proposition—his request to fuck me.”
Lloyd paled. “He didn’t…did he?”
“Yes, he did. He knew about us. Thank you for that, big mouth. He wanted his turn in my bed.”
“Oh my God. Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll bet you are. But not as sorry as I am now that I’ve lost my job.” A tightness in her chest traveled to the back of her eyes.
“He can’t do that.”
“But he did, Lloyd, didn’t he? My word against his.”
“That’s disgusting.” He gazed into her face, and she saw he meant it. “But there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Lloyd, can this be true? Are you really going to fire me?
She sighed. “I know. I’ve got a few leads on a new job.”
“Thank God. Good girl.” He smiled and wiped his brow with a handkerchief.
“Haven’t found anything, but I will. Can I use you as a reference?”
He paled again. “The standard policy is to simply confirm how long you’ve worked here and give no opinion about your performance. Pete specifically told me he’d give you a bad reference if you used him.”
“What? He can’t do that.” She rose out of her chair.
“He can. And he will. Just use me.”
“Will he be okay with that?”
“I don’t care. This sucks. I can’t let you go without a reference.”
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