"Of all days, not today."



Sara Pierce slowed her car. An elderly woman standing near the burgandy sedan on the side of the busy highway told half the story. The frail man struggling to lift a tire from his trunk told the rest.



She didn't have time to change a flat.



Mr. Matthews expected her to proofread his proposal for the Jarvis account before he met with his new clients first thing this morning. Her latest boss could put the 'p' in pig and model for bacon. Sara and her fellow secretaries had decided he'd oiled the corporate ladder the same way he did his hair.



"What goes around in life, comes around."



Old-fashioned ethics kicked in with the memory of her mother's wisdom. She couldn't leave these people stranded in the hot sun. She pulled over and walked toward the elderly man wrestling with a flimsy jack.



"Need help?"



"I'll figure this out."



"By the time the sun sets." The petite white-haired woman decked out in an elegant ivory suit muttered. "A mechanical genius Harold isn't."



The man scowled. "I'm not the one who won't own a cell phone. You and your 'I hate technology.' I don't know why I put up with you." His loving smile took the sting from his words. "It's a good thing you stopped, young lady. We've been married too long to divorce now."



Sara held out her hand. "May I?" She swiftly pieced the jack together, and laughed when she noted the light of approval in the woman's eyes. "Compliments of a mother who believed in equal opportunity," Sara explained. "My four brothers cook and sew. I can change the oil, too."



The woman chuckled.



"Besides," Sara said, "it's fun disproving the theory about dumb blondes."





She changed the flat and refused their offer of payment.



The woman shook her head. "All right, but I hope someday we can return the favor."



Sara watched as their car coasted smoothly onto the highway. Her flust of pride lasted until she returned to her car and the revelations of her rear-view mirror. Grease smudged her cheek, wisps of hair escaped her topknot, and dirt clung to her once-pristine white blouse.



Sara prayed as she drove to the office and snuck in the back door. She just needed to avoid Mr. Matthews until she corrected her appearance. She crept by the open conference room door.



"You're late," the dreaded voice pronounced. "Randy Jarvis is already here." Sara forced herself to turn.



"Sorry, I--"



"What happened? Rough night?" he taunted.



The temptation to leave claw marks on his sneering face beckoned. She gritted her teeth and summoned every ounce of her professionalism. "I stopped to change a flat tire.



"Right."



His calculating leer made Sara shudder.



"Problems?"



The man who joined them in the doorway had to be the client, Randy Jarvis. His dark eyes held the same watchful quality she'd seen in birds of prey. Sara expected censure, but found no sign of judgment in his warm smile.



Her boss snickered. "Nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Jarvis. My secretary claims she's late because she had to change a tire."



Sara's cheeks burned. Did he have to ridicule her in front of this man? Randy Jarvis would draw the eyes of any woman with a beating heart. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. he could pose for lead prince in a fairy tale. Unfortunately, she'd be Cinderella five minutes after midnight.



She summoned her courage and a fake smile. "Mr. Matthews underestimates me. I know a tool when I see one."



Randy's expression didn't change, but she thought she glimpsed a hint of respect in his eyes. No, she must be imagining it.



"Can we get back to business?" her boss prodded.



"Excuse me." Sara fled to the ladies room. She emerged minutes later, transformed into her ordinary capable self.



She slipped into the conference room.



Randy Jarvis stood.



Mr. Matthews followed suit, but his scowl made it clear he thought the polite gesture unwarranted. "So, what do you think of my ideas?"



Sara hurried to seat herself.



"Interesting." Randy sat down. "You recommend Jarvis Tools stick to the same pitch."



The corporate lawyer unleashed a barrage of questions that demonstrated his reputation for making mincemeat of opponents. Sara almost pitied her boss. To her, his floundering attempts to explain his new advertising campaign sounded mediocre. She sensed Randy's growing impatience.



"I thought your company encouraged a more innovative track," Randy said.



"The company might, but I don't." Sara's boss shook his head. He pointed a finger in her direction. She had the sickening sensation she knew what was coming. "Why, my secretary suggested some far-fetched notion of changing your slogan...to reach women." His coarse laugh rang through the room. "You're lucky I'm the one in charge. I mean, can you imagine?"



Randy's gaze targeted her. "Is that true?"



"Yes." Sara tilted her chin, waiting for his inevitable scorn. She didn't propose transforming something that wasn't borken. But she believed the recent drop in sales wouldn't be reversed unless Jarvis Tools updated their image.



"Hmm." The lawyer shuffled the papers in front of him. "People buy Jarvis Tools knowing they get a quality product. Why change a saying everyone knows by heart? Our slogan tests well with men."



"Who kept women from voting for how many years?" It wasn't as if he'd consider the suggestion, but she refused to lie. "Quality is important, but nowadays you have to be noticed. More and more women are buysing tools--for their husbands, their fathers. Some even undertake home repairs themselves." Her boss snorted like a militant bulldog. Sara told herself not to panic and ignored him. "Jarvis doesn't use the same packaging it did when the company begn. Why use the same tired pitch?"



"Name recognition?" Randy held up his hand as she opened her mouth. "I presume you intend arguing that moving with the times to include modern tools also extends to advertising?"



She nodded.



Randy grinned. "Interesting."

"Pay no attention to Sara," her boss interrupted. "She thinks a couple of night classes in marketing make her an expert. I'm with you. Why risk changing?"

The intercom buzzed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Jarvis, Senior have arrived."

Sara's boss rubbed his hands. "Good."

Sara did a double take at the couple who strolled through the door.

The older woman made a beeline for Randy. "Sorry we're late. I forgot my glasses. Then we had a flat tire on our way home to fetch them."

He. Stood. She stretched to kiss him, and wiped the lipstick mark she left on his cheek with her fingers.

Randy's delighted smile took Sara by surprise.

"I wasn't worried. You're always late, Nana." Loving amusement permeated his voice. He shook his grandfather's hand then turned. "If you think I'm a hard sell, you have yet to deal with my grandparents," he explained as he introduced Sara and her boss.

"Why hello, again." His grandfather patted Sara's shoulder. "This young lady stopped to help us this morning. You should see her handle a jack."

"Yes, her expertise was a real lifesaver," his grandmother added.

Sara blushed.

"Shall we continue?" Sara's boss pulled out a chair. "As I explained to Randy, I believe we should stick with your usual type of campaign." He began his spiel and concluded a shosrt time later with a smirk of satisfaction.

Busy scribbling the minutes of the meeting in shorthand, Sara snuck a peek at the older couple who remained silent. Something told her Mr. Matthews had struck out this time.

"I'm sure you agree with me," her boss prompted.

"What do you think, Randy?" the elederly woman trilled.

Sara straightened her skirt. The twinkle in the older woman's eyes convinced her something was a foot. But what?

"You know how I feel about changing the slogan, Nana."

An unspoken message passed between Randy and his grandmother.

"Sara, here, is attending marketing classes. She thinks we should update our slogan. Maybe change it to appeal more to women."

"You don't say." His grandmother arched her eyebrow. "How very unusual."

"Don't worry, my secretary doesn't oversee your account." Sara's boss straightened his tie, the very picture of confidence as he stood up. "So, it's settled?"

Sara fought disappointment. No doubt her boss would crow over this victory.

"Yes." The older woman rose to her feet. "Sara, if Randy could arrange to have you transferred to another boss, how would you like to put some of those classes to work? I'd like you to consider helping your new boss and Randy fix our account."

"B-but...b-but," her boss spluttered. "Surely Mr. Jarvis has final say here. We haven't heard from him."

Randy chuckled. "My grandfather gave my grandmother controlling interest in Jarvis tools. She bet him sales would drop if he stuck to the same slogan. They did. We've been after him to change that tiresome campaign of his for years." Randy crossed the room and stood before Sara. "I'm sure your agency will agree to transfer you. After all, a woman with the courage of her convinctions should be rewarded. I think we'll work very well together, Sara. Care to mix business with pleasure Friday over dinner?"

Mother was right. What goes around comes around.

"I'd be delighted."

The end

All material copyrighted and may not be reproduced without written permission
2005