Chapter 7
Naturally, everybody at the Luben Ad Agency was delighted to learn that the Wonder-Lift bra account would be in the capable hands of Reid Hartley. Phrases such as: "He's a genius" and "I wonder how he does it?" once again were voiced throughout the building. Every account was important to the agency because it made everybody's job-from the president to the janitor-just that much more secure. In effect, Reid was a hero until he lost an account.
The final working out of details on the Wonder-Lift account was weeks away. Now, the immediate problem looming before Reid was the Gibbons toothpaste campaign. In fact, this afternoon at 3:30 he was to make the presentation. He was not fearful-at least not as fearful as he'd been regarding the Wonder-Lift thing-but he was somewhat apprehensive. Try as he might, he could not come up with anything really new. He would rely on Mona's assistance and present the strongest aspects of the ad campaigns now being waged by Gibbons' three leading competitors. Sex appeal was certainly nothing new in the marketing of toothpaste, but he intended to carry the sex angle as far as Gibbons was concerned to the absolute limit-farther than it had ever been carried in the history of toothpaste advertising. This, then, plus Mona, was all he had going for him. He hoped it would be sufficient.
It was late in the morning when, with the art director's assistance, Reid completed the sketches for his presentation on his pedestal chart in his office. He went through his pitch one more time with Mona for an audience and when he had finished she said, "I think it's pretty good. As you say, there's nothing really world-shaking or new about it, but it makes sense and the sex angle should sell the stuff." She made a face. "Ugh, I think it's the worst-tasting stuff on the market. It gags me." She went over then and put her arms around Reid's neck. "Ummm, my sugar, sweet, honey man. You were magnificent last night. I hope I have something left to offer Richard Gibbons."
He held her close, felt her breasts squashing against him and her little hip thrusts at his penis. He felt a little out of it, in a kind of semi-daze, as he always felt just before an important presentation. "I hope it won't be necessary for you to-to offer your body to Richard," he said. "It's a comfort knowing you're here if I need you, but dammit I should be able to sell the bastard on the square."
"I hope so, too, love, but if you need me you know I'm willing and ready."
"Yeah, I know," Reid said. "I wish you weren't such a convincing actress, though. Do you suppose you could take it a little easy this time-I mean, if your services are necessary?"
"I'll try," Mona said. "But I figure if I'm going to make love to win an account I might as well make absolutely sure. That's why I guess I seem so convincing."
Reid ran his hand over his face. His fingers trembled slightly. "Yes, I guess you have a point," he said.
"So do you," Mona said, grinding her pelvis at his harder. "And I can feel it getting bigger."
He slapped her on the buttocks lightly. "You could go to the old folks' home and make all the senile guys get erections, my dear."
Just then, the buzzer sounded on the intercom. Reid picked up the receiver and said, "Yes, Arthur. All right. I'll be right there." He hung up, then said to Mona, "Arthur Luben wants to see me in his office. I wonder what the fuck he wants. Why doesn't he leave me alone! See you in a little while. Would you type that letter to the Ludlow Tire Company?"
"Sure," Mona said. "Right away, sir."
"Don't be a wise-ass," Reid kidded, "and take your time. Don't get one of those braless tits of yours caught in the typewriter carriage. Right now, you're the agency's biggest asset. Catch one of those beautiful boobs in the typewriter and the whole agency will go down the tubes."
"I'll try to be careful, sir," Mona said, grinning.
In Arthur Luben's office, Reid sat down and Arthur got directly to the point. "You did a great job with the Wonder-Lift people," Arthur said, "and I have every confidence that you'll do the same with Gibbons this afternoon." Arthur paused. He had the most annoying habit of pushing his nose to one side of his face with his forefinger. He did so now-just sat there with his nose off to the left and not saying anything.
"What's on your mind then?" Reid asked finally.
"Well, there's no problem actually, but I just want you to realize that while keeping existing accounts is essential, there is still the matter of acquiring new ones."
"Arthur," Reid said, with exaggerated patience, "I've been in this business all my life practically. Yes, I'm aware that new accounts are important, for chrissake. I'm a big boy. You got a potential new account coming in. Is that it?"
"As a matter of fact, we do. You're amazing, Reid. You read my mind. I want you to know that Luben's appreciates you."
Reid laughed cynically. "All right, Arthur, let me read your mind a little farther. You've got a new account on your mind and you want me to handle it, correct? I'm up to my ass in major accounts, while Len Woodward is only up to his ankles in Mickey Mouse ones. Why don't you let Len handle it? Why don't you let this guy who makes as much money as I do handle something important?"
Arthur Luben now transferred his forefinger to the opposite side and pushed his nose toward his right cheek. "I understand how you feel, Reid, but Len-well, let's say I have more confidence in Reid Hartley than Len Woodward."
"Then may I suggest that you pay Reid Hartley more money than you pay Len Woodward. Confidence doesn't help pay the hospital bill when they check you in for ulcers, does it?"
"You're quite right, Reid. And again, you anticipated precisely what was on my mind. I'm not only talking about more money, Reid. I'm talking about a full partnership in the firm."
"So it's big, huh? Who is it?"
Arthur now tugged at his earlobe. That was unusual because he was strictly a nose man. Yes, Reid thought, it must be big.
"That's one of the problems. They don't know what to call it yet."
"Arthur, may I suggest that you tell me just what the fuck you're talking about? Is it baby buggies, TV sets, sanitary napkins, flea powder, horse manure, what?"
"It's wine," Arthur said. "They make the stuff in northern California-Modesto to be exact-but they want to come out with a popular product. They want to make a wine drink that's just as popular as root beer."
"That's a problem when you limit your market to people over twenty-one only, isn't it? Who are these people?"
"Milo Vineyards," Arthur said.
Reid whistled. "Yes, that is big," he said.
"Bigger than you'd guess. If we can do a job for them with this new product, we could very well take over all their advertising. They're the biggest wine sellers in the business, and they've got lots of money. We need a name for the stuff and a campaign that will not only sell them on us, but will actually sell the stuff to the people. In other words, no bullshit. The people have to go and ask for the stuff. People have to stay smashed day and night on the crap-whatever we call it. We want everybody from winos on skid row to the country club set asking for this wine."
"Oh, that's dandy," Reid said. "Mass appeal and acceptance with a touch of sophistication. Maybe you'd like mothers to nurse their children with the stuff, too-wives to fill their husbands' thermos bottles with the stuff for lunch buckets."
"Exactly. You're getting the idea," Arthur said, pushing at his nose.
"Wonderful," Reid said. "We'll call it Poon-Tang. Sure, why not? Then guys will try to stick their cocks in the end of the bottle. No, better yet, we'll package this wine in an extra wide-mouthed bottle and provide a lubricant so they can fuck the bottles easier. Hurrah for Poon-Tang! You don't even have to bring the bottles back. Keep 'em and screw 'em. And for you gals, they're just the right size for insertion in the vagina on those lonely nights. Hurry! Hurry! Buy Poon-Tang!"
Suddenly, Reid stopped. His brain began clicking, working the way it used to work. Possibilities, variations on variations flashed computerlike in his mind. "That's it!" he said. Not Poon-Tang... HIGH-TANG. And there's nothing wrong with the wife filling the thermos for her her husband. In fact, it's good!" Visual shots and situations streamed through his mind's eye. "Yes, the thermos... young people guzzling at the beach... little old ladies sneaking-actually sneaking a snort from their pantries... people sipping stuff at bridge parties... golfers... all good. Yes, yes, I think we can do it."
Arthur Luben, who was famous for his imaginative powers, sat dumbstruck. "By God, Reid, you've got it! Beautiful! Just beautiful! HIGH-TANG! I love it! I wanna buy a case right now!"
Arthur had both hands on his nose now. "Jesus, don't mention this to anybody, Reid-not the name, not anything. Let's get this Gibbons thing out of the way and get going on HIGH-TANG! You are a fucking genius, Reid. I've-I've just witnessed the birth of a brilliant campaign-right here in my office." Arthur Luben whacked his leg and jumped up and began pacing excitedly back and forth. "HIGH-TANG! HIGH-TANG!" he kept repeating, as though the words were magic. "I don't want any leaks on this, Reid. I don't even want the Art Department working on anything until the last minute. This has to be the best kept secret in the history of Luben's!"
Reid said, "You mean Luben and Hartley, don't you?"
Arthur Luben stopped in his tracks. "Yes-uh-yes, of course. Luben and Hartley. Just like I said, Reid."
"Fine. If you don't mind, will you please have the papers drawn up so that the partnership will go into effect as soon as Milo Vineyards accepts the campaign?"
"Right away," Arthur said. "This is going to make us a fortune, Reid. I can feel it. I may not be creative, but I am a business man. I know this is going to be the biggest thing that ever happened to Luben's."
"Luben and Hartley," Reid said.
"Yeah, Luben and Hartley," Arthur said.
"I have a lot more ideas, too," Reid said, "but I'll wait until we sign those papers, if that's all right with you."
"Sure, whatever you say, Reid. I'll have the agreement drawn up right away.
"You don't have to rush," Reid said. "Day after tomorrow's okay. After we've signed the agreement I'll get to work on HIGH-TANG-not before. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch and then make the Gibbons presentation. See you later, partner."
They shook hands. "Okay, partner," Arthur said. "Good luck with Gibbons."
"I've got it locked in," Reid said arrogantly. "After all, it's all in the interest of Luben and Hartley, right?"
Then he left.
Reid and Mona were sitting in Frascati's restaurant on Wilshire, he sipping a dry martini and Mona a Coke as they waited for their lunch to arrive, when Cecil Seagram came up to the table and said, "Hello, my dear," to his daughter and then, "Good to see you, Reid."
Reid stood up and shook hands with Cecil. "Won't you join us? We're just about to have lunch."
"Thank you, I think I will," Cecil said, sitting down. "My, how well you look," he said to his daughter. "You look wonderful. I'm very happy."
It was true that Mona looked better than she'd ever looked, and Reid could tell that her father was extremely pleased. He had already finished lunch and said that he would just stay a few minutes and chat.
"Thank you, Daddy," Mona said. "I'm sorry I haven't called or visited you, but I've been so busy. I'm working at, of all things, an advertising agency! I'm working for Reid as his secretary at Luben's and having a wonderful time." She reached over and gave her father an affectionate peck on the cheek.
"Well, whatever you're doing, I hope you keep doing it," Cecil said. "You look simply marvelous. You look like my little girl again." He hugged her.
The phrase "little girl" reminded Reid of the sexual relationship between this man and his daughter and, for a moment, he visualized this distinguished man lapping at his daughter's vagina, stuffing his erection into her anus, ad infinitum. It was nearly impossible to imagine. It seemed incredible. Still, he knew it was true, and he found himself mentally calling this acknowledged superman of the advertising world the most hypocritical of hypocrites.
"You know," Cecil said, "now that you're learning the ad game you might just wind up as president of the Seagram Agency one day. I'm serious. I'll be retiring soon, you know, and I can't imagine a more pleasant happening."
Reid yearned to tell Cecil that very soon he, too, would become a full partner in the firm of Luben and Hartley, but he restrained himself. Once that was out, he would have to explain why and that would of necessity involve mentioning HIGH-TANG, which was taboo. "So what brings you over this way?" Reid asked.
"Oh, I stopped by the office this morning to make sure things were running smoothly." He forced a smile. He would remain vague, Reid knew. Cecil Seagram was not one to divulge anything important where business was concerned. "Yes, there are a few big things coming up and I just wanted to be certain they're handled properly."
Reid knew he shouldn't do it, but he couldn't resist. "Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked. "Everybody seems to be drinking wine these days."
Seagram's reaction was immediate and unmistakable. Yes, the word that Milo Vineyards was planning something big was out, no question about it.
"No, thank you," he said. "I realize it's becoming more popular all the time-and destined to become even more popular-but I've had my limit today."
Reid grinned as their eyes met. Even Cecil Seagram couldn't resist revealing that his finger still remained on the pulse of the business.
"Just what are you two talking about?" Mona asked. "What's all this wine talk?"
"Nothing," her father said, smiling. "Perhaps Reid will tell you about it tonight when you're both at his apartment." He eyed them both, amused. "I must confess, Mona, that I still remain the watchful father. I've known for some time that you were working at Luben's with Reid. I've known everything. My main concern is that you're well and happy. I see that you are, so I have no objection to your leading your own life."
"Daddy, you've been spying on me!" Mona protested, but Reid could tell that she was flattered.
"So long as wine is marketed by the right agency there's no need for anyone to interfere in anybody's life," Cecil said. "Live and let live. That's what I always say."
"I totally agree," Reid said, not missing the elderly man's direct threat regarding the Milo Vineyard account. "As long as the right agency handles the selling of wine there's no need for a lot of most unusual facts to be made public knowledge."
Cecil Seagram understood exactly the counterthreat and was visibly disturbed. Apparently he had misjudged his daughter. He had not dreamed she would ever reveal their sexual relationship.
"Please, you two," she said. "Would you please tell me why all this talk about wine? If you want wine, then order it!"
"Mona," Cecil said to his daughter, "would you mind powdering your nose for a few minutes while I chat with Mrs. Hartley? It's important that we talk privately. Business. Please?"
Mona scowled, then looked quizzically at Reid. Reid nodded and she got up and went toward the ladies' room. When he was certain that she was out of earshot, Seagram said: "Business is business," he said, "but fucking my eighteen-year-old daughter is a slightly different thing." He stared Reid directly in the eye. "Keep this up, Reid, and I'll ruin you. You'll never work in the industry again. I mean it."
Reid grinned. Fuck you, he thought. "And what about you?" he said. "What about a man who plays around with his own daughter? How do you think the industry would feel about that?"
Seagram's eyes went ablaze. Furiously, he started to raise his hand to make a point and upset Mona's water glass. He didn't bother to call the waiter or mop up the mess himself. Speechless, he stood up and stalked from the restaurant.
Reid sat silently staring after Mona's father, his heart pounding inside his chest. "Rotten cocksucker!" he muttered to himself. He was going all out for the Milo wine account-more than ever. He wanted more than anything to beat Cecil Seagram at his own fucking game. He would win the account, show the prick who was best and continue to enjoy fucking Mona to his heart's content. Yeah, fuck the old bastard!
Mona returned a minute later and Reid said, "Unfortunately, your daddy got a little upset about our living together and had to leave."
Mona seemed sad. A look he had never seen on her face spread over her beautiful features-a look of ineffable sadness. "Reid," she said, "I hope you didn't hurt him. He-he means well. He-really can't help everything that's happened between us. You didn't say anything to hurt him, did you?"
"No, not really," Reid said. "I'm afraid he just didn't appreciate the truth. Let's get out of here. Come on."
"Yes," Mona said, her eyes ablaze just like her father's. "I can see the Gibbons toothpaste account is more important to you than I am."
For just an instant, Reid panicked. It was essential that Mona be in the proper sexual mood for Richard Gibbons. Somehow he had to pacify her. "Sugar," he said, reaching out and stroking her arm, "I tried to reason with your father, but it just wasn't any use. Let's go back and get that Gibbons account. I'll call your father then and apologize. Promise. Okay?"
With effort, Mona smiled. "All right," she said. "If-if you promise you'll call him." "I promise," Reid said.
Mona was pantiless-just as before with the Wonder-Lift account. Once again, Reid went-through his pitch, turning the pages of the pedestal chart and staring at Mona's lovely knees, her inner thighs and her little furry pussy that was such a pleasure to view when she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Her titties, firm and jiggly, showed through her blouse and Reid felt confident that despite the lack of brilliancy, the conception of his campaign, that he would be able to win over Richard Gibbons with Mona's assistance. Sea; war! Yeah. That's what it was Make the prick come in his pants and buy the campaign... yeah....
"Do you think this is sexy enough?" Mona asked, demonstrating by uncrossing her legs and displaying her delicious little snatch. He could see the vertical line of her pink little puss and he said, "Baby, you give him a shot of your little cunt-just like that-and we'll have ourselves one toothpaste account for sure. Christ, he'll be down on his knees between your legs trying to clean his teeth on your little cunt brush."
Mona giggled. "We have a little time, don't we? Would you care to-to lick my cunt just a little? Don't you think I should be primed just a little... just a little?"
Reid went over and, without preliminaries, knelt down, parted her legs and ran his tongue up the length of her tasty pussy. Somehow, the thought that he was having "firsts"-lapping Mona's cunt before Richard Gibbons could dine there-turned him on. After a few good licks, though, he stopped, controlling himself and gazed into her eyes. "Very nice," he said. "Richard should enjoy it. I-I think I'd better stop now though. After all, I don't want to be a cunt hog, do I?"
"Go ahead," she breathed, her eyes rolling lustfully, "I-I find it sort of nice, actually. Nobody-but nobody-sucks my cunt the way you do." She held his cheeks, pleading in a ladylike way for more.
"I think we'd better save you for Richard," Reid said, forcing himself to go away. "It's an important account and we don't want you sore and lacking juice, right?"
She sighed, crossing her legs again, hiding her little snatch from view. "Okay, I guess you're right," she said. "But tonight I want you to do it to me-all the way. This afternoon with Richard I don't mind being an actress, but tonight I want my box eaten properly. You've created an addict, you know... ummm...."
Reid chuckled. Little did she know. "No, you're wrong there," he said. "You've made me an addict. I'm addicted to your cunt, sweet. In fact, pulling away from you and taking my tongue out of your little honey nest is bringing on severe withdrawal. You give me pussy pangs. Ouch!"
Mona laughed brightly. "Well, bring on this Richard. Let's get him out of the way so we can go home and settle down to some real cunt-sucking and cock-sucking. Ummm... do I ever want that stiff pole of yours in my mouth."
Reid clutched his genitals. "You shouldn't say things like that," he said. "What are you-some kind of sex sadist?"
"Something like that," Mona said. "Yes. I just happen to dig your cock... cock, pussy... cock... cock, pussy... cock, cock, cock, cock... ummm...."