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“Okay, give me your ad.” I lean back on my sofa, relaxed, and full from my ma’s food.
“Hold on.” She scrambles off the couch and down the hall, running back seconds later with her sketchpad. “So.” She gets comfortable on the couch next to me, her legs crossed and back straight. “I’m thinking we start with a couple. We show their wedding rings as they’re in their bedroom, trying to be quiet. Maybe the camera shoots to a baby whimpering in a crib—with a Coddle diaper on, of course. The parents stop when they hear the baby on the monitor. The baby quiets and they start going at it again until the wife puts her hand on the husband’s chest to stop him and says, ‘Condom.’
“The husband is really nonchalant, like, ‘Oh, it’s okay,’ but the wife insists. The ad fades, but we show they grabbed a condom and right after they’re finished, they’re panting on their backs and the baby cries. Maybe the couple rock, paper, scissors to see who goes to the baby and the dad loses.” She flashes me a smile as if I’m the dad. “Then the next day, the dad comes home, unpacking groceries with an economy-sized box of condoms, and the wife laughs. I’m not sure of the wording, but maybe we could go along the same lines as the tampon one… ‘Let us protect you until you’re ready.’” Her hands run in a straight line in front of her as if the words are appearing there. “That’s not a good line, but I’m sure we can think of one.”
I sit there. It’s not a bad ad. I see the appeal to parents, but they aren’t the ones buying condoms. Single guys are. Single girls are. “It’s good, but I think we should look at the demographics of who buys condoms.”
Her shoulders round into themselves. She’s going to take this personally instead of as creative criticism. I’ve been doing this for years, and although I think she’s wicked talented, my experience trumps everything else.
“I think our campaign should be directed toward single men,” I say.
She gawks. “What about single women?”
I run my hand through my hair. This is going to end with me on the couch and her in my bed. Or her at her house and me at mine. It’s going to end with me not getting laid tonight.
“Single women don’t buy condoms.”
“That’s not true.” She’s getting heated. Her cheeks are flushing and she’s fidgeting.
“Listen, I have the info at the office. Let’s table this until tomorrow. We’ll meet with Billy—”
She stands. “Your mind is made up.”
“No, it isn’t. I told you I like your idea, but let’s be real for a moment. A married couple with a small baby is not buying a bulk box of condoms. Single men—straight men, gay men—are.”
She throws her hands in the air. “What about single women? The gay women… er… I mean. Ugh. You know what I mean.”
I grab her hands and guide her to sit down. “Don’t lose your cool over this. We’re sparring, throwing ideas out there. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m simply saying we need to look at the facts so that our ad gets them the most business.”
She nods, but I bet if I placed my hand over her heart, it’d be beating faster than when we fuck. She’s new to this. I remember kicking and hitting things when I was a newbie and they didn’t like my ideas. You take it personally and have a hard time seeing the other side.
“Why don’t you straddle me again and we can have the night I was hoping for?” I pat my leg.
“Ugh.” She stands.
“Remember earlier when you said a hate fuck could be fun? I’m down to give it a try.”
She spins on her heel and heads down the hall. “You’re just like Mr. Jacobson.”
Yeah, I can’t let that fly. I follow her, and I’m about to enter the room when she slams my bedroom door in my face. I open it right back up and find her packing her overnight bag like I expected.
“Don’t you dare compare me to him.”
She rolls her eyes. “You want to gear the ad toward men and won’t even listen to my reasoning.”
“Because men buy condoms. When is the last time you bought condoms?”
“I have three in my purse.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Okay, bad example.”
She puts her hands on her hips and hammers me with a pissed-off expression.
“Come on. I don’t want to argue about this. If this is going to work, we need to keep work at work and home at home.” I step forward, hoping the brush in her hand doesn’t nail me in the eye.
Her shoulders slump. “I’m just trying to give Mr. Jacobson a reason to actually hire your assistant so I can be a full-fledged junior ad exec.”
I bring her to my chest, hugging her because I worry as much as she does that she might never get that man’s respect. I don’t want her to move to Texas, but at this point in her life, it might be the best option for her. But as selfish as it is, I can’t find it in me to voice my concerns for her future at work. I… well, I can’t see living without her at this point. It has to work out for her at Jacobson and Earl. I vow to do everything in my power to make sure it does.
“We good?” I kiss the top of her head.
“Billy gets the tie-breaker vote,” she mumbles.
My girl’s a fighter and will never throw in the white towel. I would never expect her to. But I worry our work relationship is going to ruin whatever we’re building outside of Jacobson and Earl.
