Connors leaned back in his chair and stared at Nick a moment. Then he leaned forward on the desk again. "Nick, I'm putting you in charge of the Dennison account," Connors said, in a voice he would have used had he been a doctor telling a patient he had cancer.
Nick pretended surprise, but already his mind was racing. "The Dennison account?" he asked. "My God, everybody in the agency has had a crack at that account."
"And everyone in the agency has failed," Connors said. "You know, of course, that we're on the verge of losing the account. Not only is it one of our oldest and largest accounts, but it carries a great deal of prestige."
"To be blunt, though," Nick said, "isn't at least a part of the trouble the fact that old lady Dennison is impossible to deal with, since her husband died?"
"Frances Dennison is difficult," Connors said. "At times, difficult to the point of eccentricity. But she also has a shrewd business sense, and she does not suffer fools easily. She feels, and I must agree, that no one here has come up with an original idea for selling Dennison Beer in a long time."
"How soon do you want me to start?" Nick asked.
"Immediately," Connors said. "We'll have a meeting tomorrow at 10 and you can turn the Jarvis account over, and get briefed on Dennison. And this time tomorrow, Nick, it will be your baby."
"How much freedom will I have?" Nick asked. "I mean how much will I be bound by the things the agency has done in the past?"
"You will have complete freedom," Connors said. "Dennison Beer is losing money. Their sales have been steadily plunging. I want you to come up with something that reverses the plunge, and also makes Mrs. Dennison happy."
"I'll start right away, sir," Nick said. "Frankly, the Jarvis account was getting a bit boring. I'm glad that you gave me this challenge. And I'll do my best."
"Better than your best," Connors said. "Keeping this account is important to me. Very important. I know that other men have failed to satisfy Mrs. Dennison, and I know she is old enough to be considered senile. But, I respect her judgment. And Nick, other men that have failed this account have not been future sons-in-law, with an obvious shot at the whole agency some day."
Just the thought of sitting behind that desk in his impressive old office made Nick go tense. And he realized now that Connors was really testing him, and that failure could be disastrous to all his plans and ambitions.
"I'm both overwhelmed and flattered you're handing it to me," Nick said. "And I'm searching for something to say. But I'd rather wait and let my actions speak for me."
"I like to hear you talk that way," Connors said. "I'm depending on you Nick. This account will be crucial to our future relationship. Now, about the Jarvis account. Are there any loose ends that can't be resolved by tomorrow morning?"
"I don't think so," Nick said. "Later I'm auditioning girls for a new, brief commercial spot on TV. Once I wrap that up, someone can pick things up, I think."
"Then so much for business," Connors said. He stood up and walked over to an ornate oak cabinet and opened a panel that contained a bar. "What are you drinking?"
"Scotch and water," Nick said.
Connors mixed two drinks and walked around the desk and handed one to Nick. Nick stood up, and tilted his glass to Connors, and they drank silently a moment.
Nick savored the good Scotch and glanced around the office, and despite the challenge of this new assignment, the confidence and contentment warmed him and he thought how perfect his life was now, and how logical and ordered everything seemed. There was the upward movement in the agency, doing the best job with the hardest accounts, and there was the coming marriage to Julie. And Nick even let himself steal a glance at the chair behind the huge desk beneath the twin portraits.
Connors finished his drink. "Nick, I've got to go down and look at some layouts for the magazine saturation campaign on the Senesco account," he said. "Maybe you'd like to join me for just a few minutes."
"Of course I would," Nick said. "But I've got those girls coming in on the Jarvis TV spot."
"Of course," Connors said. "I forgot about that."
"I'm anxious to meet Frances Dennison," Nick said. "I know I have to come up with something good, really damn good. But I also know I have to deal with her and please her. I feel I could work better if I was familiar with her."
"The theory of know your enemy," Connors said. "And a very sound theory. I'm sure she is as anxious to meet you as you are to meet her. I'll tell you what. I was supposed to drop over to her place tonight and have a drink. I've been working night and day to save the account. But why don't you go in my place? Yes, that's perfect. It's at nine, and I'll call and make the arrangements."
"All right," Nick said. "I'll be going in blind, of course. I'll have only the vaguest idea about the beer, and no plans at all."
"That might be best," Connors said. "I think Frances Dennison might respond to that kind of approach. And be straight with her Nick, because she can spot a phony a mile off, and she's far too shrewd an old lady to be impressed by anything but how sharp you are…"
The ringing of the phone cut into Connors' words and he trailed the sentence off and went around and picked up the receiver. Nick saw the old man smile broadly and mumble something into the receiver.
And the face showed wrinkles as the smile broadened and Connors hung up. Nick was puzzled a moment, then he realized who was on the phone.
And just as the recognition hit him, the door burst open and Julie walked in.
"Well, I'll swear," she said. "I know when the two most important men in the agency get together it's very important. But to be kept waiting and then have to call to see if I'm allowed to interrupt is a bit much."
Nick got a quick provocative smile and then she hurried over and put her arms around her father's neck. Nick stared at her quick, nervous movements, and watched the short voluptuous body strain into tenseness as she leaned up on tiptoes to kiss Connors' cheek.
Then the burning black eyes were blazing at Nick and he smiled as she moved to him. Her full lips were soft and warm and quick on his mouth.
Julie danced away a bit and took his hand and cocked her head up at him. "What grave, valuable aspects of the business world were you discussing?" she asked.
"Things so grave and valuable it would stagger your imagination," Nick said, and stared down at the long, jet black hair and black eyes set in the pale face, and down past the puffed lips to the surge of the cone-shaped breasts beneath a tight, smart black sheath, and down to the flare of the hips, and the rounded melon-small buttocks.
"I've got those layouts to see about," Connors mumbled. He crossed the room quickly and muttered, "I'll see you at the meeting in the morning, Nick."
Julie squeezed Nick's hand and stepped to him. "Oh, Nick," she said. "That sounds ominous. What has he given you now? I know if he says he'll see you in the morning, it means you have something to do tonight. And you were supposed to come over and help me make final arrangements for the wedding."
Nick glanced at the door and then pulled Julie to him and delighted in the feel of her breasts against his chest as she stood on her toes. Nick cupped her face up and kissed her softly.
"Your father has just given me the Dennison Beer account," he said, and put a hand to her narrow waist and squeezed. "It's only the toughest account in the agency, and we are on the verge of losing it. And tonight I am scheduled to meet Frances Dennison and try to soothe and sell her. And I understand she is not only old, but also difficult to please."
"As long as she's a woman, darling, I'm sure you'll please her," Julie said. "Can we have an early dinner, or at least a drink after work?"
Nick shook his head. "I'm interviewing girls for the Jarvis TV spot," he said. "And I'll probably be late."