I've just taken my first sip when a young man pops out of the office. He looks like a typical startup manager: handsome, well-dressed, and almost certainly in over his head.
"Ms. Monroe, welcome!" He bounds up to me, hand extended. During the handshake he nods toward my forehead. "Ah, I see you use our products!" He laughs heartily at his own joke. I laugh back. I want this job.
"It's a wonderful time to be in chemical advertising, Ms. Monroe," he says, shepherding me into his office. I notice he has a proper desk. "We have some exciting deals in the works. Exciting, exciting deals. "
"Really?" I say, distracted by the fry-lump in my stomach.
"Oh, yes. Now that the Supreme Court has reversed most of those class action suits, Shooters don't have to be stealthy. We've had to discontinue the tobacco lines for the time being, but otherwise it's open season on consumers. "
I make another effort to join in his laughter, and reaching toward the bump on my head add, "It certainly is effective. "
"Indeed. " He smiles like he loaded the dart himself. "So," he says, picking up my resume,"I see your background is in print. "
"Yes, but I've done some work in fragrance influence, and I'm very interested in chemical advertising's potential. "
"Well, it is a growing field, plenty of room for trailblazers, especially with campaigns as impressive as these. " He sets my resume aside. "And of course we still have quite a lot of synergy with print. " He pulls an inch-long Crave dart out of a drawer and drops it on the desk between us. I resist the urge to cringe at the sight of the wretched thing.
"What do you see?" he asks.
I want to say a menace, but instead I tap the delivery barrel and give the context-appropriate answer. "Unused ad space. "
Suddenly he's a schoolmaster who has finally found a bright pupil in a classroom full of dunces.
"Exactly, Ms. Monroe. Exactly. No square millimeter wasted, that's what I say. " He leans across the table and whispers conspiratorially, "We're looking at co-branding an AOL-Time-Warner-Starbucks Lattepalooza Crave with a Forever Fitness session discount. "
"Wow. "
"Yes. Coupons on the darts. How does that grab you?"
"Coupons. "
"Tiny coupons, like the ones on swizzle sticks. Can't you just see it? You get Stuck, so you want the product, but you're also concerned about your weight. The coupon helps. The coupon tells you the provider cares about your concerns. It tells you they understand. " He leans back in his chair, my cue to speak.
"Interesting. But I'd go log-in rebate rather than immediate discount. Same message, same coverage, easier on the bottom line. "
He leans forward again. "I like the way you think, Ms. Monroe. "
I hate meeting at Sandra's house — her cats are constantly trying to climb up on my lap, I suspect because they know I'm allergic to them. But Sandra is my best friend from college, and also my cell leader, so I usually end up here at least once a week.
"Whoa, right in the forehead," she says when she opens the door.
"Yeah, and that's an ugly one on your neck. "
"That's a hickey. "
"Oh, uh, sorry. Or congratulations, I guess. "
"Eh," she shrugs, heading to the kitchen.
I follow. "Um, aren't you a little old to be getting those?"
"Maybe, but Liam's not too old to be giving them. " Sandra has a taste for idealistic young revolutionaries.
She starts to make herbal tea, and I know enough not to ask for coffee instead.
We take the tea to the lumpy, cat-hair covered futon in the living room. "How'd the interview go?"
"Shaky start. Getting Stuck really threw me off. But I did manage to laugh at his jokes, and, sad to say, I'm more or less qualified. "
"You do speak their language. " Sandra likes to remind me that I've only recently stopped being part of the problem. "So where do things stand?" she asks.
"He said he only had one more interview, and he'd call to let me know by the end of the week. "
"Did you pick up anything while you were there?"
"Not much about the next formulas. AOL-Time-Warner-Starbucks is definitely in now, but that's old news. "
"But you think you can get access? the job's in the right division?"
"Close enough. Marketing's always looking over R&D's shoulder. It won't seem strange for me to be poking around. "
"What should I tell our counter-formula development contact?"
"Well, assuming I get the job, and assuming I can start right away, three weeks. Maybe four. It'll depend on their security. "
She seems satisfied with this answer. "What about Plan B? How's the Mata Hari routine working on our favorite evil genius?"
"He's not evil — he's just oblivious. "
She raises an eyebrow at this. "Dangerously oblivious. "
"Yes, I know. " I concentrate on picking cat hair off my clothes. "It's going fine. Fourth date tonight. Expensive place. I should get going, actually. " I rise and head for the door. She stops me and stares pointedly at my forehead.
"Alex, don't forget — he's the enemy. " I consciously abort an eye-roll and substitute a smile.
"Dangerously oblivious genius equals enemy. Check. " I give her a little wave as I step outside.
"Which restaurant are you going to?" Sandra asks from the doorway.
"Prima. "
Her brow furrows. "Don't they serve real meat?"
"Oh yes — and I'll be ordering a steak," I say, taking a moment to enjoy her disapproving look.
"I'll have the porterhouse. Rare, please. "
"Make that two," Tom says. "Mine medium. "
"Very good," the server says. "I'll be back with the first course shortly. " He gives us each a prim little four-star nod as he leaves.
I put my elbows on the white linen tablecloth and rest my chin on my interlaced fingers. "I'm not sure I can ever love a man who would ruin a perfectly good steak. "
Tom leans into the candlelight, too. "And I'm not sure I can trust a woman who likes her meat nearly raw. "
"I guess we'll just have to stay together for the sex. "
"And the children. " He raises his glass to his lips.
"I'm not having sex with children, you pervert. "
He chokes on his wine and grabs his napkin. I have to give him points for not looking around to make sure we haven't been overheard.
"If I'd known you'd be shooting wine out of your nose I'd have suggested a Merlot," I say as innocently as I can manage.
"How," he coughs, "did I ever end up in such hazardous company?"
We met accidentally at a Better Living through Chemistry Expo sponsored by Dow-DuPont-Bristol-Myers-Squibb-Pepsi Co six weeks ago.
Actually, we met at a hotel bar during the expo.
I was running my report through my head, thinking about the companies that had the most bad news for humanity in the works. He sat down a couple of bar-stools away. We traded a little eye contact and a few shy smiles in the dim light.
"So which of these evil bastards are you representing?"
He laughed. "CraveTech. "
"Ooh, a startup. Exciting. "
"Yeah. What about you?"
"Me? I'm with an underground group whose goal is to liberate people from the tyranny of corporate chemical dependence. "
"Huh. Underground, you said?"
"Yeah, we're not very good at that part. " I was already starting to like his laugh, especially since it came so easily. "Actually, I freelance in marketing. "
"Anything I might have seen?"
"Maybe the Junior Chemical Engineer campaign. "
"‘Big Molecules for Little Hands. '"
"That's the one," I said, suddenly aware I was twisting a lock of my hair around my finger. I reached for my drink.