Page 95 of Pierced

“A very special one,” I purr. I reach for his suit coat, opening it up just a little bit so I can slip the invitation into that secret pocket all suit coats have. I drop his jacket, pat his chest, and say, “And I expect you to be there in your finest tuxedo and a mask appropriate for the occasion.” I make my tone stern, so he understands what I say next. “If I see one Dracula, one zombie, one rubber Nixon mask, you’re getting my boot. Understand?”

I smile, place my hand on his cheek, then turn away, heading to the next VP’s office just as Josh calls out, “I will! I mean, I do! I mean… I’ll be there!”

I repeat that little act, complete with the warning about the masks, for each VP, then start on their underlings, changing up my delivery, when appropriate, to make sure there will be no Little Bo-Peeps, no sexy maid outfits, and no Disney princesses. This is strictly little-black-dress/black-tie attire.

I know the chain of command here at Le Man better than anyone, and it’s a way to keep track of who I visit, so I use the hierarchy as my delivery guide. I’m just heading back to my office to refill my bag when Valerie comes rushing towards me. “Myrtle! Oh, thank God! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, pushing past her. Because it’s almost lunch time and I want to finish the lower floor before everyone leaves.

“DogCo pulled their advertising for this month and we’re left with a huge gap. The pages need to be at the printer by Friday and Pierce is in the air, so he’s unreachable!”

I turn to face her. “DogCo? Why in Heaven’s good name are we accepting advertising from DogCo?”

And then it hits me.

We’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel if we can’t even get DogCo to advertise.

“Something about hunting season?” Valerie offers. “I don’t really know. But they pulled out.”

“Did you inform Josh?”

“Yes, but he says it’s too late to get someone new. We won’t be able to get the spread ready by Friday morning.”

“So what’s he gonna do?”

“Just run the ad anyway,” she says, then shrugs. “They had a front inside cover ad. I guess they get it for free now.”

“Oh, hell no, they don’t. Hell. No.”

“But we can’t—”

“Oh, yes, we can. I want all the VPs in my office. Right now. There is no way Pierce would let this go to print, and since he’s not here, I will make sure we have a new advertiser on that inside front cover, or I will die trying.”

“Oh… uh, OK,” she says.

“Follow me, Valerie. I’m going to need you to deliver the rest of these envelopes, but I have a script you must say, so that everyone is perfectly clear on my dress code for the Halloween party.”

“Sure, yes! I’ll take care of it!”

At four o’clock I’ve got three more crises on my hands. The photographer has pulled out for the Halloween party shoot, the caterer is ‘in between’ bakers and can’t provide a dessert, and one more advertiser has decided Le Man is not where they want to spend their advertising dollars this month but will probably be back in December.

“December?” I say, glaring at Josh. “December isn’t going to help us in November.”

“They’ll be back,” Josh says. “I mean, we typically shuffle advertisers like this a lot. We just credit them and roll it over—”

“Do we?” I ask, irritated. No wonder we’re losing money! I might have to revoke Josh’s party invitation.

“Pierce doesn’t usually sweat it, Myrtle. He’s been kinda chill about things since last summer when—”

“Enough,” I say, holding up a hand to stop the inevitable when the whole Sexpert debacle happened comes out of Josh’s mouth. “We. Will. Get. Two. New. Advertisers. By Friday. Am I clear, Josh? Pierce is counting on us to keep things running this week while he’s out and we will not disappoint him upon return.”

He shrugs. “OK. We will. Get advertisers, I mean. Not disappoint Pierce.”

“Perfect. On your way out, can you send in Valerie?”

“Sure thing.”

I look down at my desk. There are now eight neat stacks of paper and sixteen open tabs in my browser and for some reason this feels… really good.