Playing for Keeps (6 page)

“Sure.” Murf backed away, holding up his palms in mock surrender. “Forget about the girl. What’s the old man gonna say when he hears you’re doing a commercial? And for beer, no less. He’ll shit a brick, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny had to laugh at that. “And it won’t help to tell him I did it for a girl. Not that I did,” he added hastily. “I fell for her pitch, not her. That stuff about integrity and cleaning up my image made sense, right? And Pop’ll like that angle too. Once he stops yelling.”

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Not soon,” Johnny drawled. “He just got out of the ER. Maybe at Thanksgiving, assuming we can keep it quiet until then.”

Murf grinned sympathetically. “The good news is, he’s a guy. Just show him her picture and he’ll cut you some slack. Because she’s a babe for sure.”

Johnny sent him a sharp look but saw only admiration in his eyes, so he relaxed again and admitted, “Yeah, she’s a babe. For
sure
.”

• • •

A blur of activity followed for Erica as Steve Adler walked her through the many, many steps between a good idea and a dynamite outcome. As promised, he made his team available to her, and she used them gratefully. But he also seemed to understand her need to use as much B-pool talent as possible. They were her colleagues and friends, and if she could share this opportunity with them, she intended to do it.

And so Steve punched up the script for the production, but Erica’s friend Jenna took a red pencil to it as well, making a few but pithy changes that Steve praised to the roof. And for IT needs, he welcomed the contribution of May, a shy but brilliant techie who had labored in relative obscurity with the agency for more than three years without ever catching management’s eye.

Of all the things that were changing at Caldwell, that was Erica’s favorite. May was more than a talented friend, she had been a rock during those awful weeks post-Frank when Erica had doubted herself, so sure she was being oversensitive. Overreacting. Proving her mother correct by wilting in this demanding, male-dominated world. Luckily, May and Jenna had been there for her, but especially May, who had furnished objective proof, both audio and video, that Frank’s behavior at the infamous training session had been unprofessional and subtly threatening. Thanks to that video, Erica had gone back to the bitch in Human Resources who had told her she needed tougher skin and had demanded something be done.

And then, to everyone’s amazement, something
had
been done.

All thanks to May. Now Erica was returning the favor.

And Johnny Spurling was doing his part to make her happy too, sending roses the day after the pitch session and then again when the contracts were signed. And calling her every night, jokingly asking if she was wearing her raincoat to bed, and then settling into heartfelt conversation. His voice made her tingle, but he carefully toed the line, not veering into attempted phone sex yet keeping her on edge, her breathing always just a bit ragged, even though he mostly talked about his family and friends.

She learned more about the blind date. For one thing, she found out that the sister-in-law’s friend was a kindergarten teacher who loved children and craved some of her own. While obviously she might not be “the one,” she fit the profile, so he would start with her and if they didn’t jell, he’d find someone else who fit the bill.

He also spoke of his father’s history with heart attacks and the recent chili-based scare, emailed her pictures of his niece and nephews, and joked about his agent, who was apparently part mastermind, part butler, given the way he waited on Johnny and other clients hand and foot.

She already knew a lot about his younger brother, Jason, but he filled in more details, while also providing bits and pieces about an older brother who had been a high school football star before he and his mother were killed in a car crash with a drunken driver. Johnny didn’t dwell on any of that, but the catch in his voice when he mentioned it broke her heart, especially when he said matter-of-factly, “I was a total goof-off until that night. But Dad told me I was the oldest son now and had responsibilities. So I’ve done my best to live up to it.”

He urged her to share personal details too, but she had spent years learning to avoid such things. So she just gave him the canned version: Mom’s a lawyer, Dad’s an art history professor, little brother just started college at Villanova. Connor was cool, as was her dad. And Mom was loving, perceptive and judgmental, not necessarily in that order.

“You can
not
keep a secret from her. Because she’s a litigator. So she’s relentless. But luckily, Dad’s mellow and he thinks I’m perfect. So between the two of them they made great parents.”

And then, because Johnny had been so forthcoming, she supplied some fun but impersonal details about her parents’ latest adventure, a trip around the world with Erica’s favorite aunt. They had been gone for weeks already and wouldn’t be home for another four months.

What she didn’t mention was what a blessing it was that they had been oceans away when the incident with Frank occurred. She missed them, she assured Johnny solemnly, but she and her brother were flying to Greece over the holidays to spend time with them, so it was really no big deal.

She didn’t add that she was dreading that trip, so sure her mother would sense trouble and demand to know what was going on. She would eventually tell her about the harassment, but there was no reason to share all that now. And definitely no reason to share it with a guy who was cheerfully planning to dump her by February, if not sooner. Better to just enjoy their silly flirtation while it lasted.

• • •

The shoot was scheduled for the second week in November and was being held in a small town in Nevada where Lager Storm had its headquarters. Apparently the owner’s brother had a bar there and insisted it be used in the commercial. Erica and Steve feared it wouldn’t be glitzy enough, so they sent Jenna and her boyfriend for an all-expense-paid scouting trip.

The verdict? The bar was gorgeous. And the accommodations? Even better.

“You’ve got to stay there, Erica,” Jenna was telling her the day she returned. They were sitting in Erica’s cubicle admiring the latest bouquet of roses—yellow this time—from Johnny. “It’s so romantic. Jacuzzi, satin sheets, wood-burning fireplace. Talk about a triple play.”

“That’s baseball,” Erica said with a laugh. “It’s Triple
Threat
for the Lancers.”

“Like I care? My point is, you’ll get laid and laid and laid, right into extra innings.”

Erica laughed again. “Go away. I’ve got work to do, and you’re just too happy.”

“Not happier than you, though. I’m glad, Erica. You worked hard for this, and you paid a high price.” Jenna gave her friend’s shoulders a squeeze. “I love it when justice is done.”

“Thanks, Jenn.” She watched as her friend strolled out of the cubicle and down the hall toward IT. Apparently May was going to hear all about the Jacuzzi too.

“Erica?”

Turning, she gasped to see Sherry Johannsen, junior ad executive, standing there.

“Did I startle you?” Sherry murmured.

Erica wanted to assure her she had done more than that. She had freaked her out big-time. Sherry
never
came down to the B-pool these days, and rumor had it that even though she had started there in the cubicles like everyone else, she had been snobby to fellow B-poolers even then.

It was beyond offensive, but Erica had always made excuses for the woman, knowing how much she had accomplished by the age of forty. In some ways she was Erica’s role model. So calm, so sophisticated, so unflinchingly professional. She was lovely, with platinum hair and porcelain skin, but she was also tough and stoic, wearing black pants and a black suit jacket every single day, never showing what were undoubtedly good legs, or at least long ones, and keeping her makeup to the bare minimum.

She worked hard and had impressed KC and Julio enough to become the first woman on an A-team. And according to Steve and others, she had done so well in that role she had almost been made team leader three years ago but had been edged out by Frank Garr.

Rumor had it Julio was retiring soon and Sherry was the only candidate on KC’s list to replace him. When that happened, Erica dared hope she would select her as part of her staff. Not that the standoffish woman had shown much sisterly solidarity until now, but still, she had to choose someone, didn’t she? And if the Lager Storm campaign was a success, why not Erica?

So she pointed to the fabric-covered guest chair vacated by Jenna and said brightly, “Come on in, Sherry. It’s nice to see you.”

“Flowers from the quarterback?” Sherry asked, nodding toward the roses as she settled into the seat. “I’ve been hearing all about that.”

“About the flowers?”

“And about the impression you made on him. Sexy
and
creative, right?”

“I don’t know what Frank told you—”

“I didn’t hear it from Frank,” she interrupted smoothly. “And that’s really not the point, is it?”

Erica’s stomach clenched as she tried to fathom what the point actually was. Nothing good, that was for sure. “What
is
the point?”

Sherry hesitated, then waved a hand as though dismissing the question. “I’m here because Steve and Julio asked me to check on you. To see if you need any help.”

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I’m sorry if I sounded critical. But you have talent, Erica. And now you have this opportunity. I may not approve of the way you got it, but I’d like to see you succeed. I mean that. If you do well, act professionally, you’ll reflect well on all of us. But sleeping with the football player is a mistake.”

“I’m not sleeping with him. And even if I were, it’s no one’s business.”

“You
made
it their business, don’t you see? You complain about workplace harassment, then you fool around with a guy who’s under contract with us. The irony’s not lost on anyone, including KC.”

Erica wanted to protest, but Sherry had touched a nerve with that “not lost on KC” business. Was that how he saw her now? Sherry had said she didn’t hear the gossip from Frank, which left Steve Adler or KC. If either one of them was having second thoughts because of the way Erica and Johnny had clicked, it was a freaking disaster.

“My guess is your strategy will backfire,” Sherry continued calmly. “But you made your bed, so to speak, so ordinarily, I’d just stay clear of it.”

“That would have been good,” Erica told her coolly.

“Except it reflects on all of us here. All of the women, that is.”

“The women? You mean like me and Jenna and May? And Ashley and Rebecca in Accounting? And Lauren and Susan and KC’s new secretary?
Those
women? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to
any
of them. I know for a fact you’ve barely said hello to me in more than a year, even before I started sleeping with every guy in sight.”

“This isn’t about me—”

“Wanna bet?” Erica stood up, glaring. “You’ve got your nerve, you know that? You don’t even know what happened—”

“I know
exactly
what happened,” Sherry retorted, standing to face her. “Frank was his usual pompous self. Lorded it over you, then made you cry with one of his insensitive jabs. We’ve all been there and we’ve all dealt with it. But instead of standing up to him, you ran crying to KC.”

Erica tried to glare. To insist she had never, ever cried at work. But Sherry’s words were already changing that because there actually
was
a sting of tears behind her eyes.

Of all the stupid times! It was so unfair.

Gulping for air, she steadied herself, then said quietly, “You should go.”

Sherry winced. “I know that was harsh. But like I said, I want you to succeed. We all do.”

“Good. Because I plan to.”

The junior executive started to leave, then turned and murmured, “The best way to get ahead in this business is to work hard. That’s how I did it, and you can too. That’s really all I came to say.” She seemed to expect a response, but when Erica just stared at her, stone-faced, she shrugged and walked away.

And Erica sank back into her chair, wanting to be angry but feeling gutted instead. Wasn’t this Erica’s greatest fear? That her mother had been right? That she didn’t have the grit to survive in the real world. To roll with the punches.

Instead of standing up to him, you went crying to KC
. . .

Grabbing the phone, she punched May’s number on speed dial and said unhappily, “Emergency meeting in ten minutes. The usual place. And bitch up, ’cause we’re going to trash someone big-time.”

“Frank?” May asked hopefully.

“Sherry.”

“Ooo, even better! I’ll grab Jenna and meet you there. And Erica?”

“Yes?”

“It’s not you, it’s her.”

Erica exhaled slowly, murmured “Absolutely,” then hung up the phone and pulled her purse from her bottom drawer.

It’s not you, it’s her. Or at least,
she told herself grimly
, it’s
99 percent her
.

• • •

When Johnny called that night she was ready for him. And while she allowed him one final raincoat joke, she quickly got to the point.

“We need to talk, John.”

“You’re calling me John? This sounds serious. What’s up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. I know this is last minute, but can you possibly get away for a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon?”

“To see
you
? Hell, yeah. Are you saying you’ll be in Portland? That’s amazing.”

“I’m taking the day off and flying in. I can meet you at three. Or four. But my flight home leaves at six thirty—”

“Spend the night. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.” He exhaled loudly. “This is amazing. I thought I wouldn’t see you until the shoot—”

“This can’t wait.”

“Yeah, that’s coming through.” He cleared his throat. “Text me the details and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”