A Whirlwind...Makeover

“I’m Dan Willis.”

She smiled again. “Maddie Sinclair,” she said, extending her hand to him.

“Nice to meet you, Maddie.” He glanced down at the puny salad on her tray. “Not much lunch.”

She looked at the red plastic bowl half filled with greens and wrinkled her nose. “No.”

He tapped the dessert plate on the edge of his tray. “Tell you what. You eat all your salad and I’ll give you a bite of my pie.”

She grinned. “Deal.”

Dan watched her pour the watery dressing over the lettuce and pick up her fork. “Great hands,” he said.

Her fork froze, drippy lettuce dangling in midair. “I’m sorry?”

“I said you have great hands. Very graceful. You have the perfect combination of slender palms and long fingers.”

She looked embarrassed but pleased with the unexpected praise. “Long fingers must be the only perk of being a giant.”

He heard the dissatisfaction in her voice. “You’re not a giant. You’re tall. What are you, six feet?”

“Only five-eleven,” she corrected in a way that told him that that one inch was important to her.

“If I look taller it’s the hair,” she continued while pointing to what looked like an ugly brown badger hibernating on top of her head. “It’s long and thick. I pin it up on the top of my head to keep it out of the way. Once I tried pinning it around the sides of my head, but it looked like I was wearing a hairy inner-tube crown. I probably look taller with it pinned up this way, but really I’m only five-eleven.”

“I believe you.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “I take it you don’t like being tall.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “I hate it. Trust me, it’s only in fairy tales that giants have the advantage. In real life we have to buy ugly flat shoes and slump our shoulders to keep from towering over everyone.”

“You didn’t seem to tower over the guy you came in with.”

“Colton?” Her gaze traveled to the movie star’s table and her expression softened. “He’s the perfect height.”

“Perfect for what?”

Her eyes remained trained on Colton. “For me.”

“He’s your guy?” Dan hoped his astonishment didn’t bleed through to his voice.

She dragged her eyes back to Dan. “No,” she admitted with an embarrassed blush.

Dan sensed there was an interesting story here. “How do you know him?”

She leaned in, eager to talk about Colton. “We work together. At Cue Communications. He just came on board today.”

“You met him today, and you’ve already fallen for him?”

“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? I’m not usually the impulsive type. I don’t even believe in love at first sight. Or didn’t. There’s just something about Colton.”

He couldn’t keep the cynicism from his tone. “Mind if I hazard a guess? Could it be that he looks like a movie star?”

She dismissed the idea with a graceful wave of her hand. “Oh no. I mean, sure, he’s fabulous looking, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Like what?”

She hesitated. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

He hadn’t been tempted to until he saw her suddenly solemn expression. He chewed the insides of his mouth. “I promise.”

“My dad always told me that when I met Mr. Right, he’d knock me off my feet. Not literally, of course. He used to say that when he met my mom his heart went zing and he knew she was the one. It happened to me today. The minute I saw Colton my heart did this funny thing.”

Dan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “Define ‘funny thing.’”

She shrugged. “I can’t explain it exactly. It was a weird feeling. First my chest felt kind of tight, and then my heart raced.”

Dan swallowed his last bite of sandwich. “I don’t think a tight chest and a racing heart mean love. I think it means arrhythmia. Could be deadly. You probably ought to have it checked out.”

She laughed. “You’re obviously not a romantic.”

“Obviously not.” Dan scooted the plate of pie between them. “Time for dessert. Eat up.”

She didn’t need a second invitation. Seemed the tiny salad hadn’t filled her up. She and Dan talked and laughed as they demolished the pie.

“So, you think this Colton guy has got it for you? Think his heart zinged?”

Maddie snorted. “Not likely. He can’t even remember my name. Kept calling me Molly or Mandy.”

Ouch. Dan wasn’t surprised to hear Maddie didn’t turn the golden boy’s head. Guys like Colton went for bomb-shells, not bombs. And the shapeless black dress and Wild Kingdom hairdo Maddie wore were bonafide bombs. Still, Dan felt an urge to soften the blow. “Don’t be discouraged. He probably had a lot of distractions, this being his first day and all.”

“He had a lot of distractions all right—short, skinny female ones.” She lifted her chin a fraction. “But I’m not discouraged. I hope that after he gets to know me he’ll see that I have some great qualities. It’s the inside that counts.”

That had to be the bravest speech he’d ever heard. And the dumbest. Old Colton didn’t look like the type to seek out great qualities. Fact was he didn’t look the type to see beyond his own mirror.

Dan didn’t know why the idea of Colton raining on Maddie’s parade bothered him, but it did. It was obvious her self-esteem was already at rock bottom. He hated to think what the inevitable rejection would do to her. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

She flashed him a smile so rich in emotion, so totally beautiful he swore he felt his heart zing. “Thanks.”

She glanced down at her watch then picked up her purse—a hideous, scarred black leather bag large enough to carry a week’s worth of clothing. She stood. “I need to get back to the office.”

Dan stood. “It was nice meeting you.”

“I had fun,” Maddie said. “And thanks for the pie.” She grinned. “I believe there was enough chocolate in it to tide me over till my candy-bar break at three.”

She turned and took two steps from the table before stopping and turning back. She lowered her voice so no one at the surrounding tables could hear her. “What you said earlier, about my hands being great—that was really nice. Thanks.”

Dan unlocked the door to his office and stepped inside just as the phone rang. He crossed to the desk, a strictly utilitarian steel model he’d picked up in a secondhand office furniture store, pressed the flashing button on the phone and picked up the receiver. “This is Dan.”

“Dan, ol’ buddy. Ryan here. I called to see if you’d had enough of the wilds of Texas? Are you ready to return to civilization?”

Dan settled back into his swivel chair and propped his cowboy-booted heels on top of the desk. He chuckled. “Not a chance.”

“Come on, man. You’ve been there, what, two weeks now? Surely that’s enough time for you to come to your senses.”

“I have come to my senses. That’s why I’m back in Texas.”

Ryan’s tone changed from teasing to lecturing. “I know you think you’re burned out, but you’re not. You have an incredibly successful career up here. People do not burn out on incredibly successful careers. Besides, you love New York. Everybody loves New York.”

“You’re right. I love New York. But I needed a break. I needed to get away.”

“Fine. Take another week. Then get on a plane. There’s a big shoot in Milan in two weeks. We’ll do it together.”

“No can do.”

“Why not? What are you going to do buried down there?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.”

“Okay. I won’t press you.” Ryan paused. “So, tell me, are the women down there as beautiful as you remembered?”

Dan smiled. Before he’d packed up and moved back to Texas Dan had bragged that Texan women were the most beautiful in the world. And he’d meant it. He couldn’t think of another group of women anywhere in the world who invested the kind of time and effort in themselves that Texan women did. Young or old, fat or skinny, it was as though they had an innate understanding of their worth.

Except Maddie.

Five feet and eleven inches—four inches of badger hair not withstanding—Maddie didn’t seem to have that Texas confidence. If anything, she undervalued herself.

Instead of carrying her commanding height with pride, she rolled her shoulders forward as if trying to shrink from sight. He couldn’t tell if she had a figure: no body, no matter how bad, deserved to be draped in the long, flowy black thing she’d been wearing today. It looked more like a bad slipcover than a dress. The meager attention she gave her hair and makeup said she didn’t see the point in trying. She felt she was hopeless.

Dan’s practiced eye told him nothing could be farther from the truth. If you could get past the thick black eyebrows that were separated by a scant half inch of flesh, Maddie had an excellent forehead, well-defined cheekbones, and a strong but feminine nose. She had a mile-wide smile with straight white teeth and the full lower lip that women were willing to suffer collagen injections to achieve.

The memory of Maddie’s mouth made his mouth water. How many times had he forced his focus away from her lips so he could concentrate on what she was saying?

Maddie had all the right stuff. And so much more.

Years of working with the world’s most acclaimed beauties had taught him that good physical attributes rarely added up to true beauty. More often they equaled cold hauteur and empty vanity, women who would cheerfully spend an evening with only a mirror for company.

He’d gotten to the point recently, when looking through the camera lens, that he couldn’t find the shot he wanted because he couldn’t find the beauty. His last shoot ran a record nine hours. The fault hadn’t been a temperamental model. It had been him.

He’d become cynical and he knew it. And when the cynicism became debilitating he’d packed up his camera and walked away. He was tired of looking for beauty where it didn’t exist. So he’d come home.

Funny that his first glimpse of beauty should be in the most unlikely person. In the short time he’d spent with Maddie he’d seen something he’d begun to doubt existed. A beauty that transcended good bones.

Of course, first impressions could be deceiving. Beneath her refreshing openness could be an empty shell like that he’d seen in so many others.

Maddie Sinclair intrigued him. He’d just have to get a second impression to find out.

“Are they as beautiful as I remembered?” Dan said, repeating his friend’s question. “Let me get back to you on that.”

Chapter Three

Maddie picked up her yellow legal pad and freshly sharpened pencil and walked to the door of her office. She’d left it slightly ajar so she could see when Colton started down the hall for the Monday morning staff meeting.

She assured her troublesome conscience that she was not stalking the man—she simply wanted to be handy if he needed reassurance during the first difficult days of his new job. Not that she honestly believed he’d ever suffered even a moment of self-doubt in his gorgeous life. Whereas mere mortals were composed of ninety-something percent water, Colton Hartley was pure unadulterated confidence.

Maddie knew her own confidence level frequently dipped into the non-existent range. That’s probably one of the myriad reasons she found Colton Hartley so attractive. He was everything she was not.

She had hoped to serve as his guide over the next few days, but unfortunately he’d made it very clear last Friday afternoon when she’d walked him out to his car at the end of the day that he no longer required her services. His exact words were, “You’ve done a great job of showing me around, Maddie, but I can handle it from here.”

Despite her protests, he was determined to go it alone. Though deprived of a valid excuse to stick by his side, she was pleased he’d finally remembered her name.

And though he was determined to stand on his own two feet, she was equally determined to stand by his side. And anyone who knew Maddie at all knew that what she lacked in self-confidence she more than made up for in sheer determination.

So here she was, lurking in the doorway, eye pressed to the crack so he couldn’t slip by. Lucky for her his office was on the opposite side of the hall: if she stood at just the right angle to the opening she could see his office door.

Moving shadows alerted her that he was finally coming out. When she saw his broad shoulders fill his doorway she counted three seconds before swinging open her door and stepping out into the hall. She knew immediately the delay had been a mistake. Even as she moved in on his retreating form, people were popping out of their offices like cuckoos from a clock just as Colton passed by.

Coincidence? Maddie doubted it. She began to suspect hers had not been the only eye pressed to a door crack that morning.

She hurried, trying to catch up with Colton’s long-legged stride, but it was no use. Her female colleagues had already closed in on him.

She resisted the temptation to gnash her teeth. There would be other times.

Maddie filed into the conference room with the others. The seats around the long mahogany table were already taken so she settled into one of the chairs set up in the back of the room.

Less than five minutes later Jack Benson, owner of Cue Communications, called the meeting to order. Jack and Maddie’s late father had started Cue Communications thirty years ago. At the time, they’d had one client and no prospects. The only thing the two young men had had in abundance was ambition.

Through grit and perseverance they’d built the advertising agency into a well-respected firm billing millions in revenue annually. The staff had grown to eighteen full-time employees and their client list read like a Who’s Who of the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

As a little girl, Maddie’s heart’s desire had been to work side by side with her father at Cue. When he’d died unexpectedly before she’d graduated from college, Jack had assured her she’d always have a place at the agency. A year after her dad had died, her mother sold Jack their half of the agency, preferring the lucrative cash settlement to the messy details of owning a business. Though Maddie no longer held physical ownership of the company, in her heart it would always be hers and her dad’s.

She’d hired on a year ago, after earning her MBA, with the nebulous title of Jack’s assistant. She didn’t have the experience required of an account executive, nor the talent for art or copywriting, but she had drive. Jack had signed her on with a handsome salary and an office of her own.

She’d never forget the day he’d first introduced her at the Monday morning meeting. She’d sat beside him at the head of the table, and, when it came time for introductions, they stood, his arm around her shoulders, and he had said to the assembled staff, “You are looking at the brightest star on the horizon of Cue Communications.”

She wasn’t sure why, but he believed in her. Other than her father, Jack was the only one who thought she was bright, capable and creative.

Jack had spent the past year training her. He’d taught her about the fine art of marketing and forecasting trends. He’d showed her the production side of the business, so she knew firsthand how a concept evolved into a story-board and finally into a finished campaign. More importantly, he’d modeled the integrity and ambition she’d admired in her father.

Maddie desperately wanted to live up to the potential Jack saw in her. As his assistant she listened carefully, absorbing the information he’d given her. But after a year, she still kept to the background. When Jack questioned her as to why she didn’t share her ideas with the group, she told him honestly that she didn’t feel she’d earned the right to speak. What were her opinions compared to those with years of experience?

The sound of laughter dragged her attention to the present. As always, Jack had opened the meeting with a joke. When the laughter died down, he officially introduced Colton to the group. Maddie didn’t miss the particularly warm reception the women gave him. Colton accepted it graciously, said a few words of greeting and sat down.

“Now, on to the business at hand,” Jack said. “I received a call from Swanson Shoes last week. Old man Swanson is stepping down from leadership and his son Paul is taking his place. Swanson wanted me to know that Paul is considering dropping Cue and going with a new agency.”

Jack paused while a worried buzz filled the room. “Paul thinks Swanson Shoes needs new blood to freshen up the company image. In deference to our long-standing friendship, Swanson has requested that Paul give us the opportunity to pitch a new campaign before he makes any changes. Paul agreed. I set a tentative meeting for Friday.”

The buzz became a roar.

Jack held up his hand for silence. “I know that doesn’t give us much time, but I believe the faster we get back to him, the more likely we are to retain the account. Once the news gets out that Swanson Shoes is up for grabs, agencies will swarm them. I don’t have to tell you that nobody wins in a frenzied bidding war.”

Again he lifted his hands in a call to order. “I’m personally going to handle the new pitch and I’m going to ask Colton to work with me.”

Colton smiled and nodded his acceptance to Jack, obviously pleased with the honor.

“And Maddie, I’m looking for your input as well.”

She’d known when Jack had given her the information last week that he wanted her opinion of the situation, but she’d never dreamed he wanted her on the account team. Though her stomach lurched with the weight of the responsibility, she, too, gave Jack a calm nod.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. Maddie couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for the current cheap toy promotion their hamburger chain was offering. Her mind was locked on the idea that Swanson Shoes, one of their biggest, most lucrative accounts, was in jeopardy and she was on the team to save it. Even the honor of working side by side with Colton was of secondary importance.

After Jack dismissed the meeting, he asked Colton and Maddie, along with the creative team, to stay. Maddie picked up her pad and pencil and relocated to the open chair at Jack’s left.

When the room cleared, Jack said, “You both have had an opportunity to study the Swanson account. You’ve heard me say the new president, a thirty-two-year-old hotshot, is ready to replace us with new blood. What do you think we should do about it?”

He turned to Maddie. “Ladies first.”

She’d had plenty of time to prepare what she wanted to say, but when it came time to speak nerves blocked her throat. “I think—” Her voice was a croak. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. Twice.

“I think it’s time to change the focus of the campaign. For the past twelve years we’ve sold Swanson Shoes as good value. We’ve concentrated almost exclusively on the price angle. Last week I researched the price of comparable children’s shoes in local stores and found that Swanson Shoes are expensive. I don’t have the exact numbers with me but Swanson Shoes are typically priced thirty percent higher than their competitors’ shoes.”

Jack nodded and made a little humming sound of approval.

Maddie continued with more confidence, careful to avoid looking at Colton so she wouldn’t get distracted. “I also noticed that while the prices were higher, so was the quality. Swanson Shoes were superior to every other shoe I compared them to. Through personal observation and questioning the sales people I found that the average Swanson Shoe customer is a double-income couple. I know money is important to everyone, but I think these customers would be motivated to buy a shoe for quality and construction. Even status.”

Jack’s brows shot up.

“Let’s compare it to buying cars. The upwardly mobile rarely drive economy cars even though they provide adequate transportation. No, they buy luxury cars because they want the status. They don’t mind paying the bigger price tag because they believe they are getting more. The finest quality. Exclusivity.” Maddie took a deep breath before finishing, “Bottom line, I think we should sell Swanson Shoes like Cadillacs. We would use the angle that their children deserve the best.”

Jack’s grin nearly split his face. He looked so proud Maddie half expected him to burst the buttons on his shirt.

Colton leaned forward, shaking his head. “I disagree. I think money is always of paramount importance, especially in uncertain economies like ours. I believe we’re dead-on by making value the focus of the campaign.”

With all attention riveted on him, Colton stood and began to pace. “As I see it, the problem isn’t the focus of the campaign, it’s the delivery. I took the Swanson Shoe video home over the weekend and watched the current television ads. B-o-r-i-n-g. This new president, Paul, is looking for fresh and innovative ideas. I think what is called for here is flashy presentation. New music, bold colors, aggressive staging. There’s nothing wrong with Maddie’s ideas, but in execution I believe we’d be giving Swanson Shoes more of the same stuff they’ve come to expect from Cue. We’d be handing Paul all the excuse he needs to walk.”

He was good. Maddie didn’t enjoy having her ideas shot down like mallards in duck season, but she had to admit, Colton did it with panache. He paced as he delivered his ideas, stopping and gesturing at dramatic intervals. Between the sight of his impressive self and the ringing authority in his voice, Maddie was half convinced she was an idiot. Evidently so were the others.

The creative team was one hundred percent behind Colton. Jack seemed less certain. He sat back in his black leather chair, balanced his elbows on the tabletop and steepled his fingers. After a lengthy silence he said, “Both ideas have merit…”

Colton seemed to sense his advantage, “Jack, you brought me on to update Cue’s image. I hope you’ll go with the same instincts that led you to me and allow me to draw up the campaign.”

Maddie wanted to applaud. The guy was a master. He seemed to be a natural at reading the crowd and delivering what they wanted. Wouldn’t that same innate ability apply to advertising?

Maddie thought her ideas were good. Really good. But what if she was wrong? It’s not like she had years of experience behind her. She certainly didn’t have Colton’s knack for reading people.

It was hard to give up her own plan, which she believed was a sound one, but ultimately the good of Cue outweighed her need for validation and acceptance. “I think he’s right, Jack,” she said.

Jack turned to study her face and gauge her sincerity. She nodded and smiled her approval. After another long pause Jack said, “Okay, creative people, you’ve heard Colton’s ideas. Flesh them out for me. I want sample print campaigns, radio spots and 30-second television spots. Make them trendy enough to convince Paul Swanson that Cue Communications has not gone the way of the dinosaur.”

Colton had a five-minute head start on Maddie when she headed downstairs for lunch. With her eye once again pressed to the door she’d seen him switch off his office light and head down the hall. Forgoing a delay for the sake of appearances, she darted out to follow him.

She’d have caught up with him if Jack hadn’t caught her.

“Maddie,” he called from his office. “Come in for a second. And close the door.”

She had no choice but to obey. She cast one last longing look at Colton’s retreating back before entering Jack’s office and closing the door behind her. She took the chair across from him at the desk.

Jack’s normally jovial expression was serious. “I want you to tell me honestly what you think of Colton’s ideas for Swanson’s campaign.”

She met his eyes to give him the reassurance he sought. “I liked them. You know they’re not the direction I’d have originally chosen. I’ve never been a big fan of loud music and erratic photography to sell a product. However, all that said, I believe Colton will make them work.”

She sat forward in her chair to continue. “From the little I’ve seen of him, I know he’s a natural. You’ve seen him, Jack. He works a crowd like a seasoned politician. If he brings that same power to an ad campaign, I can’t see how it could lose.”