Cleopatra and Frankenstein(65)

“Someone’s in trouble,” said Audrey in a singsong.

“I’m busy,” said Cleo.

“Please,” said Frank.

“We can talk here,” said Cleo.

“Okay.” Frank shot Audrey a sidelong glance. She was lying on her stomach with her chin propped in her palms, clearly prepared to be entertained. “Well, the first thing I want to say is that I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. And, um, about what you said last night? You’re probably right and, well, I’ll make some changes. I promise.”

“Is that all?” said Cleo.

“No,” said Frank. “The other thing I wanted to tell you is that we won it. I just found out.”

“What?” Cleo brought her hands to her mouth. “But you only pitched this morning.”

“I know, I know, it’s crazy. They said they just knew.”

“I can’t believe it!” Cleo shot up from the floor to jump up and down. “I thought you heard they were leaning toward someone else?”

“Apparently not.”

He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Can someone fill me in on what’s happening?” said Audrey.

“He won a huge account,” said Cleo. She turned back to Frank. “Gosh, I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe it.”

She threw her arms around him.

“We’ll start shooting in South Africa next month,” he said. “It’s the middle of their summer. Eighty degrees and sunny, baby!”

Cleo let her arms drop.

“Wow, yeah, wonderful,” she said, looking down.

He put his hands on her shoulders.

“What do you think, Cleopatra?” he said. “You want to come escape the cold with me?”

She lifted her eyes to his. “You want me to come?”

“Of course I do,” he said.

“But you’ve never asked me to come on a shoot before.”

“Well, you were doing the textile stuff before,” said Frank. “And I didn’t think you’d enjoy it. But you’ll love South Africa. You can paint, get room service, hang out on the beach. It will be fantastic.”

“Oh Frank!”

Cleo jumped on him and kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth.

“So happy for you,” drawled Audrey from the floor.

“The whole office is celebrating,” said Frank. “I’ve got an open tab going. You girls want to come to the bar?”

“Fuck yeah,” said Audrey.

“Well, actually …” Cleo glanced down at the cardboard they’d been painting on the floor. “We’re meant to be going to this protest against art school tuition hikes. We made signs.”

“But the bar,” said Audrey.

“It’s just, it’s kind of important,” said Cleo. “How is the next great generation of artists meant to grow if they can’t afford to learn?”

“I was just going for the cute art school boys,” said Audrey. “Let’s go to the bar.”

“Do you want me to?” said Cleo to Frank. “I can. I can protest another time.”

“No, no, go to your thing,” said Frank. “It’ll be an early night for me anyway. I’ll meet you back home and we’ll have our own celebration.”

“We will?” asked Cleo. “You won’t want to stay out?”

“No way,” said Frank.

Cleo looked down at the sign she’d been painting. It read “Make Art Not Debt!”

“Everything’s changing,” she said.

“Some change is a good thing, sweetheart,” said Frank.

Cleo looked up at him and smiled.

Frank arrived at the bar, which was packed with people from his company. A balloon of pride inflated inside him. He had started the agency ten years ago out of a shithole office off the FDR. His first hire had been Anders, a former model who nobody took seriously as an art director. For the first year they’d only had one client, a men’s silk suit manufacturer known as the suit of choice for the Italian mafia. He’d given himself a year-end bonus of one hundred bucks the first three years. And look at him now.

“Frank!” Jacky was waving him over. She was holding her phone in front of her. “I’ve got a reporter from Admania on the line. He wants a quote before they break the story tonight.”

Jacky yelled for everyone to be quiet and signaled for the bartender to turn off the music. Frank held the cell in front of him. A crowd gathered around to listen. A tinny voice emanated from the phone.

“Hey Frank, congratulations on the win. Can I get a comment on the record about your recent success?”

“Sure,” said Frank. “How did you know that’s my favorite subject to talk about?”

“Just a hunch,” said the reporter. “Now look, I’ll be frank—”

“Aren’t I already?” said Frank.

Everyone around him laughed.

“Very clever,” said the reporter. “But seriously, you went up against some big dogs for this account, and well, I don’t think anyone expected you to win it. We heard your pitch was spot-on. How does it feel for an agency of your size to officially be on the map as the one to watch?”