Dear reader,
This is a longer story than I am used to writing. There is not a lot a lot of sex in this one but there is some. This is much more about the romance than it is about hot sex.
The moment I saw her walk into our offices I was riveted. Ingrid Olsen was...different. It was hard to say exactly what it was about her that captured my attention.
She was dressed conservatively in a skirt and jacket ensemble and wore heels that were sensible but fashionable too. She had dirty blonde hair that was well-coiffed. Her eyes were blue and she had a slight heavy-lidded look. Her mouth had a very different shape and it was the defining factor in her look. There was something cruel about the way the corners of her mouth curled that was something between a smirk and a sneer.
She walked across the office and knocked on the managing director's door. She opened the door and went inside, the door closing behind her.
An hour later she came out of the office smoothing out her skirt and walked past my desk on her way out. As I've said, I was riveted, I couldn't take my eyes off her. As she passed she gave me the old school days taunt.
"Take a picture, it will last longer!"
To which I snappily replied,
"Sounds great, are you offering to pose for me?"
She turned and looked at me and smiled/smirked/sneered, it was so hard to tell with her.
"Cute comeback." She turned away and left the office.
"What did you say to her?" Asked the managing director.
"I couldn't help staring at her and she suggested a photo would last longer."
"She quite a pistol isn't she."
"She's a striking woman."
"Don't get your hopes up Casanova, she's out of your league."
Funny, Casanova is a foreign translation of my last name, Newhouse. James Newhouse.
The following week I was called into a meeting of the department heads to hear about a proposed advertising campaign. Ingrid Olsen came into the boardroom with the managing director. She set up her laptop and got ready to make the presentation.
"Hello, I'm Ingrid Olsen, I represent Greyson Howard Advertising. I would like to present three different proposals to you. Our team came up with five solid ideas and we narrowed it down to these three.
Her voice was like dripping honey, smooth and sweet. She had a slight Scandinavian accent. She had my rapt attention.
The three campaigns were aimed at different markets. They were decent, competent ideas but nothing 'out of the box."
When she asked for questions, I raised my hand.
"The industrial market and commercial market campaigns are straightforward enough but I'm concerned about the retail level campaign. It is multi-level and uses multi-media platforms. The timeline to launch is pretty rushed. I worry that Greyson Howard won't be able to produce the creative in time. I know Harry Howard's work and he has trouble meeting deadlines."
"I don't think that Harry has ever missed a deadline in his career."
"I beg to differ, Ms. Olsen, he has missed at least three in the time I've known him."
"I will personally ensure that if you give us the go ahead on this today we can and will have the creative in place. Can I go ahead and proceed with the media buy?"
"You certainly live by the ABC of sales, 'Always Be Closing' but I'm afraid we will need to discuss this amongst ourselves. We should get back to you tomorrow."
She looked sideways at the managing director who shrugged his shoulders. She packed up her computer and left the contract and presentation details with us. I watched her leave the boardroom and close the door.
"You were a little hard on her weren't you Newhouse?" Asked the managing director.
"I worked for Greyson Howard as head of client services for five years. Harry Howard works at a snail's pace. He missed three crucial deadlines and lost the firm three good clients. It's one of the reasons I left there."
The general consensus was that the proposed campaigns were well thought out and the creative was 'good enough.' I begged to differ but I was the only dissenting voice. To me, the creative was pure Harry Howard, lazy and unimaginative.
I called Ingrid Olsen to give her the news.
"We have gone over the presentation and we would like to approve it and get the new creative up and running. I'll expect to see proofs asap."
"Your name is Newhouse, right? There was a Newhouse that used to work here, are you related?"
"Sadly yes, he and I are the same person. I was head of client services for five years. Harry failed to complete the creative for three crucial clients. It was the reason I resigned."
"So if you had stayed you would have been my boss."
"Yes, but I had my fill of the agency business. I decided to cast my lot with the Atlas Tire Corporation as Marketing Director. Ms. Olsen, I have the contract signed, would you like to have dinner with me this evening? I could give you the signed agreement then."
"You could just scan and send it to me."
"But then we couldn't gossip about who is doing what to who at the agency could we?"
"Fine, 7pm at Scaramouche Manor, I'll expense it."
"I look forward to seeing you there."
----------
I have been a bachelor all my life. At thirty years of age, I still refuse to settle down with a good woman. I have dated many women but never found one that would make me question my devotion to remaining single.
Ingrid Olsen was at the restaurant before me. She was seated and was sipping a martini.
"I'm not used to being the last to arrive." I quipped.
"I'm always early, it's a personality flaw in me."
"It's a rare quality."
"Mr. Newhouse, you surprised me when you questioned whether we could handle the creative timeline."
"Only because Harry is a lazy asshole. Surely you knew about him missing those three deadlines."
"No, I didn't. I asked someone who had been working in the office for ages about it. They said there was a big blow-up between you and Harry. After you left, the agency wiped the episode from the corporate memory."
"It was not his, or my finest hour. I could never work with him that closely again."
"He hasn't changed much. He is lazy but he is a partner and holds my fate in his hands so I show him due deference."
"How did you come to join the agency, Ms. Olsen?"
"Call me Ingrid, please."
"And I'm James."
"I have a degree in Marketing. I fell into the sales side of the business and found I was quite good at it."
"Ah yes, client services allows you to be a jack of all trades."
"Yes, and a master of none. It makes for a more interesting career."
We ordered our meals and she ordered another martini. I had a pint of stout.
"Stout? Not a really popular drink these days is it?"
"Actually, Ingrid, it's growing more popular. They are even producing non-alcoholic stouts of good quality these days. As a bachelor, I have some odd, perhaps anachronistic habits. I not only prefer stout as a drink I also smoke a pipe."
"Really? You don't see many pipe smokers these days."
"True, it is a bit of a dying thing. I do enjoy it though. There is a certain something about the scent of a good pipe tobacco."
"Next thing you'll tell me you wear spats and a fedora."
"I do wear a fedora sometimes but never spats. I must compliment you on your fashion sense Ingrid."
"I usually stick to the classics, skirt and pant suits and a good variety of blouses are appropriate for most of my work."
"It amazes me how many women don't realize that. They wear clothes are are in fashion but totally wrong for their body type."
"I must be doing something right because it seems that every time I walk into the office you can't take your eyes off me."
"Guilty as charged. You have a quality about you that I can't look away from. It's embarrassing how little control I have over it."
" I don't know what you see in me. Most people think I look pissed off all the time. It's something to do with my mouth. I had a bout with palsy a while back."
"I'm glad you said that, it is a severe look but you have the blue eyes to soften the look somewhat."
"You know, James, I often ask clients out for dinner. Most turn me down. They think I'll snap at them or something. I was surprised when you asked me out."
"I am enjoying talking to you. I can see the long-term effects of the palsy at the corners of your mouth. Can you smile for me?"
She smiled, I could see it in her eyes but her mouth made it look like a smirk or sneer.
"Okay, that makes sense now. I'm sorry you're experiencing the effects of the palsy but it gives you a very unique look."
"It makes me look stern and judgemental. Some say that my face projects my personality."
"You are a very interesting woman Ingrid. I'd love to see you again."
"James, we are in a business relationship. I'm here to thank you for the signed contract. I don't want to get involved personally if you know what I mean."
"Of course I understand. Strictly business between us. Forgive me for hoping."
"Hope springs eternal, James. I'd prefer keeping things clean for the business's sake."
"Good, thanks for a lovely evening. Here is your signed contract. I look forward to hearing back from you soon."
----------
Things went smoothly back at the office. Everything regarding the campaign was double-checked and ready to go.
Ingrid had come in with the final proofs for sign-off. We met in the boardroom.
"I thought there would be more people here for this meeting."
"Everything has gone so smoothly they've left final sign-off authority with me."
We looked at the final elements that would be sent to the various media. Everything was shipshape.
"You must have read Harry the Riot Act to get these so quickly."
"Harry just needs to be pushed a little. I think he listens to me. Sometimes I think he fears me, although I don't see why."
"You are a woman who is very much in control. A guy like Harry would see you as intimidating."
"So how do you see me?"
"As a driven, highly competent woman who is dedicated to serving her clients. I also see you as a woman I would love to get to know better."
"I said it before, not a great idea. Mixing business and pleasure isn't good for anyone."
"Of course, you're right, but a guy can dream can't he?"
"Keep dreaming, James."
I escorted Ingrid to the door. She gave me that smirk before shaking my hand and leaving.
On the way back to the office, one of my coworkers commented.
"Hey James, get shot down again? She's an ice queen, that one."
"Nah, she's just misunderstood."
"You want her, don't you? It's all over your face. You got it bad."
----------
The campaigns were up and running. Sales figures showed that the campaign was working.
The company president was hosting a season opening pool party. Attendance was mandatory for staff. I wasn't big on these kinds of social gatherings because everyone brought wives and husbands along with them. I had no wife and at the moment no girlfriend.
When I showed up the party was in full swing. The pool was busy the barbecue was smoking and a band played dance music. There was a dance floor on the patio where several people enjoyed a dance with their partners.
I got a stout from the bar and made the rounds visiting the executives, pressing the flesh and listening to bad jokes. At the first decent opportunity, I headed toward the car park. On the way, I bumped into Ingrid Olsen.
