LITMIR.BIZ

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last night was Eric, and I wasn’t even sure how successful I’d been at that. As I raised my head my eyes collided with Kimberley. The look she was giving me was one of sheer malevolence. I wondered if I’d find the locks changed when I got home.

      Chapter 5

      “Let’s go over Lucy’s accounts and get an update on when the next client contact is occurring.” Dick checked his notes. “Unicorn Pulp and Paper Products. Angie, I think you’ve been working with Lucy on Unicorn?”

      “Yes, Dick, and we’ve got a presentation coming up next Monday.”

      “Very well,” Dick answered, “who are you working with in Creative?”

      “Me.” Dave was our newest copywriter. Normally he had iPod earphones growing out of his ears, but in deference to Dick he’d removed one.

      “I’d rather have you work with someone a little more senior on that. Web, can you take over for Dave?”

      “Sure, no problem, Dick.” Web made a few marks on his notepad. Dave smiled at me, looking a little wistful, and I remembered that at our last brainstorming meeting he’d told me that my sweater was pretty.

      “Miss Minnie’s Muffins?” Dick said it like he was taking an elocution test. “That’s yours, Kimberley?” She nodded.

      “Deadlines coming up this week?” Dick asked.

      “No, not until next month. They’re working on new flavors.” Kimberley’s tone was subdued.

      “Plump n’ Tasty Chicken?”

      I raised my hand. “A week from Friday, I think.”

      “Okay, check in with Lakshmi on that by next Wednesday at the latest.”

      Dick looked around the room. “And last, but certainly not least, we have Tangento. I believe you were working with Lucy on that also, Kimberley?”

      Tangento was one of the company’s most high profile accounts. They spent millions a year on their advertising and everybody at HFB wanted a piece of them. Although few people were familiar with the parent company, as I’d said to Eric last night, their subsidiaries were some of the most common names in apparel. Adonis sportswear. Venus lingerie. Their Proteus line of basketball sneakers had the dubious distinction of being the ones over which ghetto youth shot each other.

      Kimberley was saying, “Yes, Dick, we just finished working with the Research department, doing focus groups on Venus and Adonis.”

      Dick paused and coughed into his hand. “Kimberley, I’d like to have Angie parley with Tangento for the time being. I’d like her to act as account manager, with your capable assistance, of course.”

      Dead silence took over the room. Kimberley looked down, her cheeks glowing red. Dick looked at his notes, either not knowing what he had just done or not caring. I felt a painful mixture of confusion, pleasure, and guilt.

      “Each of you should dispatch an email by the end of the day apprising me of the status of each account. Thank you all for your attendance.” Dick tried to make a decisive gesture with his pen, but it flew out of his hand and hit Dave in the chest.

      Kimberley walked over to Les and Web and started talking, her back to Dick. She walked out the door with them, and Lakshmi and Theresa soon followed.

      I made my way over to Dick, planning to jettison Tangento. Sure, I had wanted to manage some accounts, but because I deserved them, not because my boss was MIA. I also needed to be able to live with Kimberley. At least until I could afford my own place.

      “Dick, if I could just speak to you for a minute.”

      “Yes, certainly, Angie.”

      “I’m not sure I really have the time to give Tangento the superior service that they deserve. And also Kimberley is so much more familiar with the account than I am…”

      He held up his hand. “With Lucy gone we are in a staffing quandary. There are issues here that I am not at liberty to discuss, but rest assured that I have complete confidence in your ability, Angie. If you would like me to relieve you from some of your other duties in order to free up time for Tangento, we can delegate Macabre Factor to someone else.”

      And throw away my chance of running into Eric again?

      “No, no, that’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to do that. I can handle things for now.” Whether I was going to be able to handle them with Kimberley was another story.

      I saw the envelope immediately when I walked into my office, maybe because I had cleaned up my desk the day before or maybe because I was looking for something like it. It was cream-colored, made of thick, cottony paper, addressed in an ornate calligraphic hand, like a wedding invitation, but it had no stamp or return address. I grabbed it and ran down the hall to Theresa’s desk. She looked alarmed as I approached so I slowed to a walk.

      “When did this come?” I asked, waving the letter.

      “Early this morning. A courier brought it.”

      I took the letter back to my office and closed the door. My heart pounded painfully as I opened it.

      My dear Angela,

      I apologize if I frightened you last night. That was certainly not my intention. If you don’t want to see me again, then please accept my apology. But if you do, I hope you will do me the honor of meeting me tonight at 10 P.M. on the terrace behind the Ocean House.

      I knew I shouldn’t go. The guy lived far away, dressed like Oscar Wilde, and had sexual proclivities that were, well, strange would be putting it mildly. Why couldn’t I meet a nice guy who I wouldn’t be ashamed to take home to meet the folks? Maybe I should meet Eric one more time to get him out of my system, I thought. Away from the ambience of the club he’ll look like a run-of-the-mill weirdo and I can forget about him. Then all I’ll have to deal with is the disappearance of my boss, which Lord knows is enough.

      Nice rationalization, Steve would say if he could hear my thoughts. Now, what are you going to wear on your date tonight?

      In the hopes that the hangover I was still feeling could be cured by a little caffeine, I went out to get a latte. Leaving the climate-controlled environment of HFB was like opening an oven door. The day had turned San Francisco schizophrenic, foggy morning segueing into blazing midday. I took off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my blouse. The sunlight seemed inordinately bright, like the earth had moved closer to the sun while I wasn’t looking. I told myself it was because I’d been in the office all morning and ducked quickly into the café.

      Everyone in San Francisco professes to hate chain stores and love the independent guys, but whenever I went into Starbucks there was always a line. Lakshmi was standing near the cash register. From behind it looked like a ten-year-old was ordering a grande latte.

      “Excuse me, can I see your ID?” Steve and I had gotten into the habit of teasing Lakshmi because, unlike my own boss, she had a sense of humor.

      “What are you, the coffee police?” she asked with a mock scowl.

      “Did you know Coca-Cola actually used to have cocaine in it?” I asked. “Now all we’ve got is coffee. How are we supposed to maintain our productivity?”

      “Yes, don’t you hate it when your country won’t let you become a drug-addled drain on society?”

      “You immigrants, always sticking up for the government. You need to exercise your democratic right to bitch and moan!”

      Lakshmi reached the head of the line and beckoned me to order on her tab. We both ordered a grande latte and I followed her to one of the tiny tables.

      “So, that was quite a coup this morning,” said Lakshmi, looking at me expectantly. “Macabre Factor and Tangento. Are you taking steroids or something?”

      I took a sip and burned my tongue. The coffee had a metallic

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