Campaign for Love (12 page)

 

 

She had just started to work on a new layout when Quentin returned
from
lunch.

 

 

"Hi!" he called in to her. "How was your date with Barry?"

 

 

"It wasn't a date, but it was a super lunch," she replied as he
approached her. "Barry is really a charming man."

 

 

"Oh? So we're on a first name basis already, are we?" he retorted,
unable to keep a twinge of sarcasm out of his voice.

 

 

She blinked up at him. "He suggested it. We had a very comfortable
luncheon. He made me feel as if I'd known him forever."

 

 

"He called to tell me he was taking you to lunch. He also asked that
we
handle the Imperial Foods account exclusively. When I told him it
had
to be cleared with management, he got right on it. Elder and Rubin
both
approved, so it's official. We're in this together all the way from
now
on. I told you we'd make a great team."

 

 

"Barry told me a little about his plans over lunch. He shares your
opinion."

 

 

"I hope we do as well on the Femme Fatale cosmetic account."

 

 

"So do I. What has the reaction been so far?"

 

 

"They liked your idea of using one model for the whole campaign and
using her as a sort of trademark, Femme Fatale personified. She will
have to be dark and sultry looking, I think, but not too exotic, so
that women can identify with her.

 

 

"I had a look at the photos you picked out from the modeling books,
and
have to say that any one of them would do. We'll find out more soon
enough, and will get to meet the girls and choose. We have an
appointment with the president of the company and his assistant
first
thing Wednesday morning."

 

 

She smiled. "That sounds exciting. One more thing about Barry
Jarvis,
though. He sort of wangled an invitation to my place for some of my
German cooking. I told him I'd make it a small dinner party. Are you
free this Friday?"

 

 

He knitted his brows together, but nodded. "Yes, I am. Who else were
you planning on inviting?"

 

 

"Well, since I'm planning on serving 'Himmel und Erte,' which calls
for
his Spudz, I thought I'd ask Cyrus Reed and his wife. It won't seem
like currying favor, since we already have the account, will it?"

 

 

"No, I think Cyrus would like that. Is that it, five people?"

 

 

Suzanna looked thoughtful. "As a matter of fact, I thought I might
ask
a friend as the sixth."

 

 

"It's a great idea, but you'd better call Cyrus and Barry right away
to
make sure they have no other plans."

 

 

She nodded. "I'll get on it immediately. I just wanted to clear it
with
you first."

 

 

She did so, and the men accepted with alacrity. Suzanna also called
Elsa at her office and received another enthusiastic acceptance.

 

 

The date was all set. Now she just had to get cleaning, shopping,
and
cooking. Her wise old grandmother had always said that the way to a
man's heart was through his stomach. This was her chance to really
shine for all of the important men who had just come into her life.

 

 

But most of all, it was a chance to try to grow closer to Quentin.
Up
until now, he had just seen the consummate professional Suzanna. In
her
own home, she could start showing him the real woman underneath the
disguise. And she was certainly looking forward to find out what was
underneath his clothes as well…

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

At three o'clock on Friday afternoon, Quentin popped into her
office.

 

 

"Hey there."

 

 

She grinned up at him. "Hey yourself."

 

 

"Listen, I know you have the dinner party tonight. You haven't asked
for any time off, but since the dinner is mostly business, I think
you
ought to stop whatever you're doing right now and go home. You must
have plenty to do. I have some work to finish up here, but as soon
as
I'm through, I'll hop a cab and come to your place to help you out
with
setting up."

 

 

"That's fantastic," she said truthfully. "Thank you. I can use the
time. The meal preparation isn't much, but it's all the little
things,
like setting the table, and especially making the drinks, opening
the
wine, that sort of thing, that can eat up a lot of time. Now I can
leave that for you."

 

 

"Great. Consider yourself with an extra pair of hands as soon as I
get
there. You clear out now, and I'll see you in a little while."

 

 

"Thanks very much."

 

 

"I'm only sorry I didn't think of it before.

 

 

"Still, it is very thoughtful, Quentin. I do appreciate it." She
blew
him a quick, playful kiss, which earned her a beaming smile.
Grabbing
her bag, she was out the door before he could say another word, or
reach for her to grab a quick kiss in earnest.

 

 

Suzanna knew that the subway would be quicker than a cab this time
of
day. She made good time getting home and changed right into a
T-shirt
and a well-tailored pair of trousers. She remembered to keep a
voluminous smock top handy to slip over the tee shirt before Quentin
arrived. Her ordinary clothes would reveal all if she wasn't
careful.

 

 

Suzy had shopped for the food the day before. She knew that Imperial
put out a really good oil and vinegar salad dressing, and so had
planned a special celeriac and field salad favorite of her German
grandmother. She patronized a little green-grocer she'd found over
on
Second Avenue. It was the only place she knew of that carried
unusual
vegetables.

 

 

The celery knobs had been cooked the night before and were
marinating
in Imperial dressing in her fridge.

 

 

Her dessert was a refrigerator cake made of Imperial lady fingers,
chocolate snaps and whipped cream she had made two days before. It,
too, was ready to serve.

 

 

She continued preparations by chopping a large onion and a quarter
pound of bacon and putting it in a heavy skillet to cook slowly.
While
it cooked, she set the table with her best family heirlooms,
crystal,
silver, and linen.

 

 

Suzanna's apartment was unusual for New York in that it had a proper
separate dining room. It had been her grandmother's, and she had
owned
the building and taken the pick of the apartments for herself. When
the
old lady had died, everything had been left to Suzanna, a fact that
was
known to only her closest friends.

 

 

The apartment itself was large, bright and airy. The sturdy dining
room
furniture was oak with burgundy plush seats. There was a huge china
cabinet. Through the crown glass could be seen priceless egg-shell
china, majolica, cut glass, crystal, Spode, and Wedgewood. She knew
they were worth a small fortune.

 

 

But to Suzanna, they were grandma's things. She loved every delicate
piece, but just as she treasured them, she delighted in using them.
There was no point in letting them become "dust collectors" as her
gran
had said.

 

 

She decided on a white linen cloth and napkins, her Wedgewood, and
grandma's heavy silver flatware, Tiffany's shell and thread dating
to
nineteen-ten. Crystal water goblets and Pilsner beer glasses came
next.

 

 

The final touch was a pair of silver candle holders with
pumpkin-colored candles and a centerpiece of autumn flowers.

 

 

Satisfied with the effect, she returned to the kitchen. The bacon
and
onion were about done, and she was lining up the rest of the
ingredients, Spudz, applesauce, milk, butter and seasonings, when
the
bell rang.

 

 

She went to turn on the intercom, and when she heard the cheerful
sound
of Quentin's voice announcing himself, she said, "Hi! Come on up.
I'm
on the fourth floor. Four-A."

 

 

She pressed the buzzer to release the lock and rushed to put on her
flowing smock. After a glance through the peep-hole, she opened the
door to his knock and invited him in.

 

 

The small foyer, like the rest of the apartment, was carpeted in
off-white with a deep pile. Opposite the door was a console table
and
beveled mirror.

 

 

The table held a pair of brass lamps with parchment shades and a
silver
card tray which Suzanna used for mail. Two ladder-backed chairs with
brocade seats flanked the table. There was also a brass rack where
Quentin hung his coat.

 

 

Quentin gave her a quick, friendly kiss in greeting, then said,
"Okay.
I'm at your service. Where do I start?"

 

 

"Come on," she said. "I'll take you to my bar."

 

 

They had to pass through the living room, where the first thing he
noticed was her piano.

 

 

"You play?" he asked.

 

 

"Yes, a little," she answered modestly.

 

 

He seemed impressed. "You're certainly full of surprises. You never
told me."

 

 

"Actually, the subject never came up, and it's not the kind of
information you volunteer. I never thought it would interest
anyone."

 

 

"You're wrong. I find it very interesting. Not many people play an
instrument these days."

 

 

"I suppose not. It's easier to turn on the radio or CD or iPod, and
the
music's better."

 

 

"We'll find out about that later. You will play for us, won't you?"

 

 

"If you really want me to, of course."

 

 

He looked around the rest of the room. One wall was floor to ceiling
bookshelves with Suzy's favorite books, as well as many with fine
Morocco bindings, also inherited.

 

 

The chairs were green and gold brocade, overstuffed and comfortable
looking. The coffee and end tables were polished walnut. On them
were
plants and a few exquisite pieces of porcelain and bisque. The
atmosphere was one of subdued elegance.

 

 

"Your apartment is surprising too. Yet now that I think about it, it
is
like you. Calm and serene. It reflects your personality perfectly."

 

 

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it. Now, come to the kitchen and get
to
work."

 

 

It was a purely functional kitchen, large, with a table and four
chairs
and lots of counter space. Gleaming brass, and copper-bottomed pans
abounded. It was a real cook's kitchen.

 

 

Suzanna pointed the way to the liquor cabinet and cocktail shaker,
and
Quentin busied himself with the drinks. He decided on vodka
martinis,
on the rocks or up, with olives or twists.

 

 

It was five when Suzanna cut up the knackwurst, bloodwurst and
braunschweiger, and sauteed them in the skillet of bacon and onions.

 

 

While it was all browning, she prepared six cups of Spudz, and when
she
was finished, she removed the wursts from the pan and set them to
one
side. She stirred the bacon and onions into the hot applesauce, then
added the Spudz, whipping them in with a wire whisk. She transferred
them to a large casserole, put the wursts on top, covered it and put
the whole thing into a moderate oven to keep hot.

 

 

Next she added the field salad to the celery knobs and poured the
spicy
tomato juice appetizer.

 

 

The bell rang again a short time later. This time it was Elsa
Marshall.
Suzy felt a pang of envy when her friend came in from the cold,
cheeks
pink, eyes sparkling and her brunette good looks set off by the
rust-colored wool dress she wore, which clung to every curve.

 

 

There was no mistaking the look of admiration in Quentin's eyes as
he
greeted her. She regretted once more the necessity of keeping up her
disguise.

 

 

She left Elsa and Quentin to become acquainted while she dressed for
dinner. She went to her room where she donned a loose trouser suit,
and
tied a matching scarf around her tumbling locks. A touch of coral
lipgloss was all she allowed herself despite her envy of the pert
Elsa.

 

 

Then she returned to the kitchen to bake the salt sticks, Quik-Bix
shaped into crescents, then rolled in coarse salt and caraway seeds.
She twisted a second tube into long spirals, and then rolled them in
poppy and sesame seeds. She rolled a third tube up, brushed it
lightly
with garlic butter, then coated them with parmesan and rosemary.

 

 

This done, she joined Elsa and Quentin, who were sipping martinis
and
talking. Quentin poured Suzy one, and complimented her on her
attractive outfit. To her surprise and relief he seemed sincere in
his
admiration.

 

 

It was six when the doorbell sounded again, announcing the arrival
of
the last guests, Cyrus and Martha Reed, and Barry Jarvis.

 

 

Suzanna ushered them in and introduced them to Elsa. She could
hardly
fail to miss the way Barry's eyes lit up when he saw her
heart-shaped
face, pert nose and tumble of short, brown curls. Nor did she miss
the
widening of Elsa's brown eyes when Barry walked in. Perfect.

 

 

The newcomers were soon settled with a cocktail apiece, and
exclaimed
in admiration over Suzanna's apartment. Martha Reed had driven down
from Tuxedo and met Cyrus and Barry at Imperial Foods. She talked
about
her journey, and seemed a warm and unpretentious woman.