Chapter 4

It took half a bottle of aspirins and nearly a quart of orange juice to do it, but by ten o'clock, Ann's hangover was down within reasonable limits and the pretty young model felt strong enough to call the hospital where Frank was working and invent a fairly plausible excuse for not having returned home on the previous night. She explained that a promotional sales conference had gone on until the early hours of the morning and that she had been afraid to ride the subway alone at that hour and had gone home instead with Jenifer who had a flat downtown.

She had expected her husband to be angry and mistrustful and she was a little upset when he took the news calmly.

"Oh, by the way," he added, when she had finished explaining her absence. "I hope your first check comes through soon. I ordered a whole set of new medical books I've been needing for a long time and there'll be a healthy bill to pay."

A cold anger settled over her as she listened to her husband announce a few more plans for spending her money. Was that all he could really think about? Hadn't it ever occurred to him that she might have spent the night with another man? Or was his conceit too strong for such an idea ever to enter his head?? How he'd change his tune if he knew that a crazy old religious fanatic had accomplished--even against her will--a couple of things Doctor Frank Larkin had not been able to accomplish for a long, long time!

No, it would never enter his precise scientific mind. He was too selfish and egocentric for that and for half a minute, Ann was almost glad it had happened. Old Judson had lectured her and battered her and humiliated her and raped her, but in the end he had also satisfied her and every woman needed that once in awhile, no matter how moral she thought she was.

Besides, she reminded herself bitterly, the free lunch was destined to be terminated before either one of them could get the first bite. When Benson left town today without placing an order with Wonder-Wear, she was going to get the sack, and not the kind you could wear either.

Well, she decided, there was no point in delaying any longer. It was time to go up to the vice president's office and face the music. Maybe if she explained what had happened, Mr. Birindelli would at least give her back her old job modeling. On the other hand, it would be embarrassing to confess how she had mismanaged things so badly and wound up in bed with Mr. Benson, leaving him unhappy and guilt-ridden for having seduced her. Either way, she was not looking forward to this meeting, but it had to be done so she straightened her shoulders, thinking how foolish her party dress looked at ten-thirty in the morning, and marched into Birindelli's office.

"The boss said you're to go right in," announced his secretary severely. "Mr. Benson's already come and gone."

Oh, that's the end, she thought grimly and considered the idea of simply going quietly away. But it was too late. Mr. Birindelli had opened the door to his office and was motioning her to enter.

"I told you that people who work for me make money if they produce," he announced in a serious tone of voice, "and that they get fired if they don't produce. Well, here it is!"

The piece of paper he was holding out to her seemed far too small to be a notice of dismissal and she took it, her hands trembling with apprehension.

It was Birindelli's personal check for a thousand dollars!

"Fantastic work!" he proclaimed, smiling at last, and shaking her hand energetically. "I've been trying to sell old Jud Benson for ten years now and he never so much as bought a sanitary napkin from us until you came along. Something gave him the idea I was evil a long time ago and he's opposed to evil, as you probably discovered. But you understood his psychology dead on!" The combined effects of the hangover and the surprise did their work on Ann's knees and she sank down weakly into the nearest chair.

"You mean... he placed an order with us?" she quavered, scarcely able to believe her ears.

"Of course he placed an order," responded Birindelli. "A massive order!" I had it all figured and the only thing which could have gone wrong was you. If I'd assigned one of my other girls to the old idiot, he'd have suspected me of trying to get him laid and gotten on the first plane for Salt Lake City. But you, with that sweet innocence you've got, he never figured you, not even for a minute, and apparently not even after you got him into bed. Or he got you into bed, which is the way it apparently went. Ha! You should have seen him when he staggered in here this morning, wondering how he could ever make it up to you and crying great big alligator tears all over my mahogany desk. What a screwball! Well, I told him how he could make it up to you. A one hundred thousand dollar purchase order, that's how!"

Jenifer said that yogurt was the only thing for a hangover and Ann had three helpings of it as the two young models sat in Wonder-Wear's cafeteria and talked about their experiences. Normally Ann would never have dreamed of relating such a personal, intimate incident to anyone else, but she knew from what she had seen through the keyhole that day that her tall blonde friend was not precisely a candidate for sainthood herself. Besides, she was so troubled in her mind that she simply had to unburden herself to someone.

"It sounds like you had all the fun," complained Jenifer jokingly when Ann had recounted her adventures with Judson Ty Benson. "And collected a cool grand for it too. My assignment was a regular stick-in-the-mud. He spotted me as a company girl right off the bat and hustled me back to his hotel two minutes after you split with the holy Mr. Judson Ty Benson. After that it was slam-bam-thank-you-Ma'am! He didn't even give me taxi fare home, the cheap bastard."

"You mean... you mean, you knew ahead of time?" stammered the young doctor's wife. "I thought the business with Mr. Benson just sort of happened, an accident..."

"Honey, in this business, nothing just happens," confided Jenifer sympathetically. "These buyers come to town, leaving their wives, or whoever they happen to be screwing at home, and they see a bunch of girls like you and me running around half- naked modeling underwear or nighties and they get all hot and bothered. Wonder-Wear wants them to be completely happy for a couple of days so they can concentrate on buying our products and that's where we come in. After they've had some fun with us, they feel sort of guilty and old Birindelli gets their name on a contract."

"But... that's almost like prostitution," cried Ann in shock, realizing for the first time what it was she had gotten herself into.

"Honey, prostitution is when you stand on a street corner and sell your ass to drunken sailors on rainy nights. When you get a big fat paycheck every payday and an office with a rug on the floor, you're a lady executive, no matter what you do to earn it. Also, a prostitute has to hustle her customers. In this business you have to let them hustle you, because otherwise they don't get the illusion that they're making some big romantic conquest on a wild weekend in the big city. A prostitute is just what you ain't, honey, believe me!"

"I don't know, Jenifer, I just don't see it that way," wailed the anguished young woman, her illusions quickly being shattered one by one.