Chapter Five

Humphrey Bogart’s line in the movie Casablanca played over and over in Nicole’s head, only instead of his voice, it was her paraphrasing. Of all the advertising agencies, in all the towns, in all the world, Wil walks into mine.

Eric shook Wil’s hand and led him to an empty chair, which happened to be directly across from hers. She heard Renee suck in her breath, as Nicole’s gay art director, Ian, whispered “Come to Daddy” under his breath. She felt the wheatgrass slowly work its way back up her throat as Eric went around the table making introductions.

Her eyes met with Wil’s briefly as they were introduced. Nicole was usually very much in control when meeting a potential client, but Wil had her completely off-guard. Creator of a clothing line? Head of a million dollar company? Twenty-five years old? Wait, hadn’t he told her he was twenty-eight?

Eric clearing his throat brought her back to reality. “I’m sorry?” she said.

“I was telling Mr. Blanco the advantages to working with a company as small as ours. Do you have anything to add, Nicole?”

She hadn’t heard a word that had been said. Wil leaned back in his chair, an amused smile playing on his face, waiting for her to answer. Him sitting there, looking so smug while she was completely undone really pissed her off.

“Why would you be interested in an agency of our size when I’m sure you’ve worked with much larger ones in the past, Mr. Blanco?”

“Please call me Wil,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve decided I want a more intimate approach.”

“And you think you’ll get it here?” she shot back.

He leaned forward in his chair. “Will I?”

“Of course you will,” Eric said, laughing nervously. Beads of sweat had begun to form on his bald head as he threw Nicole a questioning look. “We pride ourselves on having a very hands-on approach with our clients. We’ll take care of every detail, any need you may have.”

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for, Eric,” Wil said.

“Our list of current and former clients doesn’t include clothing lines,” Nicole interjected. “We tend to handle more local businesses.”

“I noticed,” Wil said, flipping through some papers he had brought with him. “The Center for Sleep Disorders, Center for Arthritis, retirement homes. I have to wonder whether you’re up to my speed.”

Eric took this as an invitation for the hard sell. “As I told you before, Mr. Blanco—”

“Wil, please.”

“Wil,” Eric continued. “We are a full-service agency, able to produce creative for a full range of media, for virtually any type of company. Our specialty, however, is print ads. All of our work is done in-house. If you hire us, you’ll find we work very closely with you.”

“How closely?”

“I can assure you that your account executive will make sure all your needs and goals are being met.”

Wil leaned back again in his chair, looking every bit the executive that he was and said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Nicole wanted to jump up and yell, “This is a complete and utter farce! This twenty-five-year-old is screwing with us and wanting to screw me, in particular. Doesn’t anyone see what is going on?”

What she actually said was, “I think Renee would be the perfect choice to work closely with Wil, don’t you agree, Eric?”

Renee looked as if she might explode with happiness. “It would be an honor to collaborate with someone who has achieved as much success as you have in such a short time, and certainly a challenge to make it grow.”

Wil’s smile faltered, but only for a second. “I love working with strong, creative people. It helps to clarify my ideas into something tangible. I’ve moved in a new direction and I want to cross over into the suburban market. I’m targeting a slightly older audience—specifically women.”

Nicole knew what was coming next. Wil had her in this game he was playing of cat and mouse, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She knew, as well as Wil, how important this account would be to Eric. So she waited for the words…

“I think Nicole would be the more appropriate choice to work with me, considering…”

“Considering what?” Renee asked, obviously disappointed.

“Considering she’s exactly who I want to target.” Eyebrows raised around the table. Nicole heard a few people smirk. “Demographically speaking,” Wil quickly amended. “Of course, we’d need to see if we’re both on the same wavelength and whether we can work well together.”

Eric stood and came around to Wil. “Certainly. Why don’t you two go out to lunch right now and get to know one another? Wil, you can fill Nicole in on some of your ideas and she can give you feedback on them. You’re in good hands with her.”

“I hope so,” Wil said, with a self-satisfied grin.

****

“You are unbelievable,” Nicole told Wil after they were seated at a table in Lacey’s Cafe. “Are you always this aggressive when you want something? Or someone?”

Maybe he had come on a little strong. Wil hadn’t meant to back her into a corner, but he hadn’t anticipated she’d be so combative either. Why was she fighting him so strongly on working together? Although he had to admit he liked seeing her so fiery. It turned him on.

“Never taking no for an answer has gotten me where I am today.”

“You mean as head of a company grossing millions? You neglected to tell me that small detail.”

“You never asked me what I did for a living. If I remember correctly, you weren’t able to see past my age.”

“Speaking of which, you told me you were twenty-eight!”

“Would you have kissed me if I had told you I was twenty-five?”

“You’re missing the point.”

A waitress came over and gave them a list of the specials. She threw a few extra smiles in Wil’s direction.

“Is this about wanting what you can’t have?” Nicole asked him after the waitress left their table.

“I need a new ad campaign and you happen to be in advertising.”

“I find that coincidence a bit unnerving, especially after kissing you.”

“It was a great kiss, wasn’t it?” he said, wishing she’d give him some show of interest beyond business.

Her blush pleased him. “Again, you’re missing the point.”

“In fact”—Wil leaned across the table toward her—“all I’ve been thinking about is kissing you again. It’s interfering with my work.”

“Get over it.”

“Come on, Nicole, you can’t sit here and honestly tell me you have not thought about that kiss?”

Before she could answer, the waitress placed Nicole’s chicken fettuccini in front of her. She bent over more than was necessary to put Wil’s bacon cheddar cheeseburger in front of him, allowing him a generous view of her ample cleavage. “Let me know if there’s anything more you need,” she told him.

“Oh, brother. Is it like this everywhere you go?” Nicole said.

“Like what?”

Nicole waved the question away and dug into her pasta. Wil waited until she chewed and swallowed. “You still haven’t answered me about the kiss,” he said.

“What do you want me to say? Yes, I’ve thought about that kiss. Happy now?”

“Very,” he said, and shoved three fries into his mouth.

“But let’s get one thing straight.” She pointed her fork at him for emphasis. “I do not mix business with pleasure. It’s unprofessional, not to mention I can’t afford to lose my job. I have a son to support. If we’re going to work together, it’s to be just that—working together.”

The wheels began to turn in his head as he considered what she’d said. He took a big bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully, followed by a long drink of soda.

“Let’s get this straight, Ms. Account Executive,” he finally said. “I work in a somewhat unorthodox way and I’ll expect you to accommodate me. I need to be hands-on with the entire process of coming up with a successful ad campaign. I can’t always express my concepts verbally, which makes it difficult for me to work with a lot of people. That’s why I prefer working one-to-one with someone I trust; one who doesn’t resent my need to be involved with the details. If you don’t like my terms, then you can walk away from this account.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What do you consider unorthodox?”

“Our meetings will not always be during business hours or in business settings.”

Nicole seemed to be trying to wrap her mind around this concept when their waitress approached the table. “Can I get you anything else? Some dessert, perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” she answered, as Wil said, “Chocolate mousse. Two spoons.”

Nicole leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “So, where will our meetings be, Wil? At night, in your bedroom?”

He smiled. “Don’t put ideas in my head.” When he saw she wasn’t sharing in his amusement he explained, “Look, I do my best work after one in the afternoon and I don’t particularly like office settings.”

A large cup of chocolate mousse was placed between them. Wil grabbed a spoon and dug in. “This is amazing. Have a bite.” Nicole shook her head. “One bite won’t kill you,” he said, as he held a spoonful in front of her mouth.

She opened wide, and as the spoon entered her mouth, she moaned with pleasure. Wil’s jaw tightened as he withdrew the spoon.

“You’re right. It’s good,” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

Wil abruptly signaled their waitress for the check. Patience wasn’t one of his strong suits when he wanted something, nor was waiting for an answer.

“Either you agree to work within my parameters, Nicole, or you don’t. I can easily find another agency to work with me, but if I were you, I’d consider the fact that your boss wants this account very much. He’d be disappointed if you couldn’t land it.”

He watched her closely and knew she was weighing the pros and cons. His account would be bigger than any her agency had handled before. Nicole would have to be in very close contact with him. He guessed it was this very fact that was causing her to hesitate. Wil took it as a promising sign. If she had no feelings for him whatsoever, it’d be a snap for her to decide. At least that’s what his gut told him. Still, he held his breath waiting for her answer.

Finally, she gave him her best professional smile and said, “I would welcome the opportunity to work with you, Wil, as long as you remember our relationship is strictly business.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she said for the second time.

The only part Wil heard was pleasure.

****

Back at the office, Wil let Eric know he was looking forward to forging a relationship with McGraw Advertising. Eric pumped Wil’s hand in a vigorous handshake. “Welcome to the family,” he said.

Wil said, “I think Nicole and I are going to work very well together.”

“She’s the best,” Eric agreed.

Wil nodded. “I’ll be in touch, Nicole.”

Eric high-fived her as soon as Wil left. “That’s my girl!” he sang. Pez danced around them. “She did it, Pez. I knew she could.”

“I really didn’t do anything,” Nicole said, wondering if she had made the right decision.

Sienna, Ian, and Brent came over to see what all the commotion was about.

“Our girl landed the Phoenix account,” Eric told them.

“Way to go, Nic,” Brent said, and more high-fives went around.

“Any ideas what he wants to do?” Sienna asked.

Oh, I have a few, she thought, feeling vaguely uneasy. “Not yet,” she said.

While the others spoke excitedly about her coup, Sienna whispered, “That was a little weird back there in the meeting. I mean, you almost gave the account away to Renee.”

She shrugged. “I thought she might be the better woman for the job, that’s all.”

“That’s not like you,” Sienna said, shaking her head.

“Just putting the best interest of the company first.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, appearing unconvinced. “By the way, I did a love ceremony for us all last night. Be on the lookout.”

Nicole opened her mouth to tell her to undo it and fast, but Eric called out, “Nic, let’s brainstorm in my office for a bit.”

“Right,” she said.

“Pez, do you need to use your throne?” Eric asked.

Pez’s “throne” was actually an indoor dog potty—a 26” x 26” square crate covered with lush synthetic grass—for those occasions when Eric was too focused on work to walk Pez. Pez sat on his throne, did his business, then scampered down the hallway after them.

When Eric said to her, “Anything Wil Blanco wants, Wil Blanco gets,” Nicole knew she was in big trouble.

****

The four women analyzed the menus at In the Raw, their heads spinning over the exorbitant prices.

“Eleven dollars for a salad that doesn’t even have any lettuce in it,” Paulina said.

“Nine dollars for a strawberry daiquiri with no rum in it,” Annie said.

Nicole read the words at the bottom of the menu. “No wheat, soy, corn, rice, grains, no animal products, no dairy—which loosely translated means no taste.”

“Hey, lighten up, guys,” Wanda said. “You told me you’d keep an open mind.”

Paulina spread her recycled napkin over her lap. “Why did you choose this place, Wanda? Are you on a diet again?”

“I haven’t dropped the kids off at the pool in over a week, okay?” Wanda said.

Paulina gave her a confused look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Annie chuckled. “She means she hasn’t downloaded.”

“Fed the fish,” Nicole added.

“Made a deposit at the porcelain bank,” Wanda said.

Paulina looked at them like they were insane. “What the hell are you people talking about?”

“Oh Christ, Paulina, I haven’t taken a crap in over a week!”

The couple at the next table glanced up.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Paulina said, in a harsh whisper.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so bitchy. I haven’t been feeling well lately and on top of that, my stomach feels like I’m nine months pregnant.”

“There’s no chance you could be, is there?” Nicole asked Wanda.

“What, pregnant? No way. I got my tubes tied the second I popped out my last kid.”

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waiter was a shining example of good health: white teeth, clear skin, bright eyes.

They froze in silence. They had absolutely no idea what to order.

“Is this your first time here?” their healthy waiter asked.

They nodded.

He flashed them a smile full of perfectly straight teeth. “I can make some suggestions.”

“Why don’t we leave the choices up to you? Surprise us,” Wanda said.

After he left Nicole said, “Remember the guy from the club that bought us a round of drinks?”

“You went home with him, didn’t you?” Wanda said.

“No! Of course not. Ever hear of the urban clothing line Phoenix Rising?”

“Who hasn’t?” Paulina said. “The graphics are amazing. I have a few T-shirts.”

“Isn’t it mostly hip-hop and street-wear?” Annie said.

“That’s what made it into a multi-million dollar company, yes. Guess who started the whole thing?”

“Don’t tell me,” Annie said. “You have got to be kidding.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open. “The young hottie?”

Nicole’s smile confirmed it. “He hired McGraw Advertising for his new campaign.”

“Let me guess,” Annie said with glee. “You’re the ad exec on his account?”

“He insisted upon it.”

“I’ll bet he did,” Wanda said. “His account is not the only thing you’ll be on.”

“Wanda! It’s strictly business,” she said.

Wanda didn’t seem to believe it one bit. “Yeah, right. Nicole, the guy is gorgeous, rich, successful—”

“Twenty-five,” she interrupted.

“Bummer,” Paulina said.

Wanda was unfazed. “It’s forgivable, given his success.”

“Have you no shame?” Annie said.

“What more can you ask for in a man?” Wanda asked.

Nicole’s eyes widened in mock outrage. “How about decency, values, the ability to give a decent back massage? You know, the things that really matter.”

The healthy waiter came back with their dinners quickly, which wasn’t a surprise given that nothing was cooked. “Enjoy,” he said cheerfully.

Nicole looked down at her “lasagna.” Pureed macadamia nuts stood in for ricotta cheese, and large slices of raw zucchini acted as noodles.

She tried not to laugh at Paulina’s “taco.” No crunchy fried corn taco shell, but a collard green filled with vegetables. “Next time I’ll clean out my garbage disposal and slap that between two pieces of lettuce,” Paulina grumbled.

Annie’s “bacon western double burger” was actually a mushroom-nut burger, minus the bun and bacon. Only Wanda’s “deep-dish pizza” passed for edible, due to the walnut pesto and warmed buckwheat crust.

“It’s not half bad,” Wanda commented, while the rest of them chewed. And chewed and chewed.

When their plates had been cleared and the opportunity for doggy bags refused, Annie informed them she had a date this Saturday with a man she had met at Home Depot.

“How do you know he’s not a psychopath?” Paulina asked.

“He’s a lawyer,” Annie said.

Paulina smirked. “So he is a psychopath.”

A tall, lean woman wearing a flowing amethyst-colored dress approached their table. Although her hair was predominately gray, there wasn’t a line or wrinkle anywhere on her face.

“Good evening. My name is Lydia and I am a psychic. If you will allow it, I can reveal to each of you one sentence that pertains to your deepest desire.”

“Only one sentence?” Nicole still couldn’t believe this was possible.

“Sometimes too many words make it more complicated than it needs to be.”

Wanda was all for it. “Count me in.”

“It’s not extra, is it?” Paulina asked.

The psychic smiled warmly without showing teeth. “It is included with your dining experience.” She came over to Wanda and asked for her hand. She held it between both her hands and closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes she told her, “Variety may be the spice of life, but sugar holds it together.”

She moved on to Paulina and repeated her process. “A mask only fools the person wearing it.”

Paulina frowned. “Does that mean my age-defying masks are useless?”

Annie was next. The psychic told her, “What you wish for is often right under your nose.”

“Thinner thighs?” Annie said.

Nicole was last. And nervous. How was this woman able to know what Nicole desired when she herself hadn’t a clue?

“Age is just a number.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was referring to.

“That’s it?” Wanda said. “You don’t elaborate?”

“Sometimes my statement is cryptic, sometimes it’s clear. It is part of your journey to decipher it. Good evening.” And she moved on to the next table without so much as a backward glance.

“All righty then,” Paulina said, reaching for the check. She didn’t even try to hide the look of horror on her face as she gasped at it.

Annie grabbed it from her. “One hundred and sixteen dollars!”

“They must have added wrong,” Nicole said.

They all looked at Wanda who let out a huge sigh. “Fine. In-N-Out burgers are on me. Let’s go.”