" Garett settled more comfortably in his chair before answering." Garett settled more comfortably in his chair before answering. "She's had a few days to get used to the idea." Andy gave a strangled laugh. "She'll never forgive you for going over her head. She's lived her life ignoring the rules, answering to nobody but herself. You've forced her to face the fact that the bigwigs *can* make her work with you even when they know she's completely against it. You've dented her pride, destroyed her self-image... That's what she'll never forgive you for." The intercom buzzed. Andy hit the online button. "Is she here? Good, send her in." Both men instinctively braced themselves for the worst. The door opened and Adrienne walked through to plop wordlessly into the chair beside Garett. Black turtleneck, black jeans, she looked like she was in mourning. "Hello Adrienne." said Garett politely. She turned her head to look at him coolly for a minute before turning back to face Andy. Garett felt as if a blast of winter had just poured down his shirt. "Now that's enough, Ade." Andy started, putting on his best paternal voice. "The milk's been spilt and there's nothing any of us can do about it. Garett's one of the best marketing men in the country. Don't let your personal feelings about him affect your professionalism.." "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about, Andy.", she answered, lifting a brow delicately. "We've got work to do, so lets get on with it." The two men glanced at each other warily before turning back to her... ------------------------------------- New York - February 27, 1993 Garett pulled the metal arms towards his chest, gritting his teeth. Sweat gleamed on his bare chest, his hair clinging to his neck and forehead. Exhaustion ran through his veins, together with the exhilaration of accomplishment. The SRC67 campaign had been set up and his gut feeling told him it was going to be a resounding sucess. All this while dealing with its cool and distant designer.. Adrienne. What a woman. No matter how calm and cool she appeared, he could still feel the seething emotion flowing just under the facade. Nothing he had done had shaken her poise. None of the innuendo, the probing the occasional insult. |