“Maybe I will.”
“Coke,” he said, pointing at her.
“And little sandwiches.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She caught his wrist. “Wait.”
He stopped.
“I’m Cherry,” she said.
“Cherry?” He emphasized thech.
She nodded.
“Hi, Cherry. I’m Tom.”
That first night with Tom...
Cherry was dazzled by him.
By his narrow blue eyes and wide-bridged nose. He looked like a lion. Especially when he laughed. He laughed with his brow furrowed, like he felt sorry about something.
Tom was a designer. Like Cherry.
But not like Cherry. He’d gone to a school with a real graphic arts program, and his job was much more interesting. He actuallydesignedthings.
Everyone in this room worked for Coates & Branch, the outside ad agency that did all the railroad’s advertising and branding. C&B was famous for being the best in Nebraska—and famously stuck-up about it. Cherry could never have gotten hired there. She didn’t have the portfolio.
It felt like a different party back here. A sloppier one. With shaggy creative types and leggy account managers. It was like everyone in the room thought they were a character fromMad Men. (But also like everyone in the room reallywasa character fromMad Men.) People were sprawled out on the expensive suede couches. They were all holding two drinks—“Because the goddamn waiters take their goddamn time withrefills”—and Tom wasn’t the only one who had heaped a pile of hors d’oeuvres onto a napkin.
“Do you have lots of clients?” Cherry asked him. “Or just the railroad?”
“Me, personally?” He was eating a tiny chocolate orange tart. He’d brought Cherry two. “Mostly the railroad. I’ve only been at C&B a year.”
“Maybe I’d recognize your work...”
“I’m not sure you’drememberit.”
“Try me.”
He furrowed his brow. “Okay. I’m the guy behind the signs in your new cafeteria. Heady stuff—‘Place dishes on belt.’ ‘Dispose of paper goods.’”
Cherry smiled. “Don’t sell yourself short. Those are some beautiful signs. Very tasteful.”
“The brief called for ‘calming.’?”
“Mission accomplished,” she said, nodding. “I actually really love the‘You are where you eat’campaign you guys did for the dining hall, especially the ads that run in our elevators—you know, with the animated cutlery? I want to meet the person who wrote those. Aretheyhere?”
Tom was smiling again with his eyes. They were the color of cartoon ice. “This might be a letdown for you...”
“No.”Cherry elbowed him excitedly. Her hands were full of canapés. “Youwrote those ads? Gosh, if you could tap-dance, you’d be a triple threat.”
Tom was still not-quite-smiling. “How do you know I can’t tap-dance?”
Cherry gazed up at him. Smiling, admiring, possibly expecting him tostart.
