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Show FICTION THE BIG CHANCE L TTE WASN'T the kind to pick a secretary by the color of her hair. Not Bill Margrave. Both Paula and Nancy had been smart enough to know that. And for some time every one in the office had known that one of them, Paula or Nancy, was going to get the job. Ui fact, the decision probably would Come through this afternoon. Har-rrave Har-rrave was leaving town and wanted lo get it settled. The two girls could see him from (heir desks outside his office. May-ke May-ke it was only a set of proofs for the Zippo campaign that he was you called the boss "EiU," and he called his secretary "Nancy" or "Paula," and took her to dinner on the expense account, on nights when the work was late. It was all strictly business, but It seemed intimate and informal. Both Paula and Nancy knew about those dinners. Bill had tried to be fair. He would ask Paula to stay one night, and then it would be Nancy's turn the next. But Paula had been smart. She'd soon learned how impersonal Eill Hargrave could be, even at those Intimate dinners. About as personal She handed him the envelope. It contained the two sets of tickets. "That's your stateroom number on the outside," she said crisply. She had on a double-breasted blue flannel suit something like Bill's, and it was clear he thought she looked pretty smart in it. "Don't forget the time," she added, add-ed, "eight fifteen." Hargrave grinned. "So there were no staterooms for love or money, eh?" He looked again at the number of his stateroom and he put the looking at with cool, keen eyes. But lor a moment his finger seemed to pause above those two efficient lit-De lit-De push-buttons. If he pressed the left one, it would be Paula's pulse bat would go Into high speed. Paula couldn't keep her eyes off bat light on her desk. She kept taaklng mistakes In her typing and lervously ripping the sheets out to (tart fresh again. She leaned across her typewriter ind said to Nancy: "The bos3 is all dolled up today. Must be going on I special trip with the new president presi-dent of Zippo." She was Just talking to relieve her nervousness. Nancy took her time about answering. She wasn't used to having Paula talk to her in uch an Intimate tone. Not since they'd learned a month ago that they were both in line for a promotion, pro-motion, for the important Job as Bill Hargrave's secretary. "He does look nice," she said. And for the next 10 minutes, half the office force could hear Paula snappily telling the ticket agent where to get off. envelope carefully in his Inside pocket. Then he told her. She had a new job. He mentioned the salary, too. He didn't neglect to mention the salary. She took it just right. Just enough of gratitude. And then, the old sportsmanship. How sorry she felt about Nancy. She didn't look sorry. And neither did Bill. He told her It was okay, that Nancy wasn't made for the Job anyway, and that they were leaving on their honeymoon honey-moon tonight. Tonight, at eight fifteen. finally. Hargrave was young and outside out-side of office hours he was said to be human. But that wasn't why he'd gotten to be one of the key men at Advertising, Inc. He was quiet, and some of the boys In the office hadn't realized how fast he was traveling until they somehow happened to get in his 'ay. The two girls saw him get up from his desk and walk to the doorway of his office. He stood there with one hand In a pocket of his double-breasted blue flannel suit. There was a small white Cower in his buttonhole and the usual keen, unrevealing smile on his face. "Did you send for the tickets?" he asked Nancy. "I got the tickets all right," she answered, "but . . ." and she tried to smile in the same hard way the boss. did. She looked as hardboiled as a white kitten. "But there Just aren't any staterooms to be had," she told him. "Not for love or money." The boss was certainly disappointed. disap-pointed. Anybody could see that. "Suppose I try it?" Paula suggested sug-gested quickly. And for the next 10 minutes, half the office force could hear Paula telling the ticket agent where to get off. "Listen," she said, "I don't care whose reservations you have to cancel . . ." Well, the Job was worth going after. There was the salary, for one thing. And there was the prestige. pres-tige. The boss' secretary knew a lot of answers. And there were the Interesting people she got to talk to. The big shots. And the boxes of perfume, flowers and candy they often left on her desk. And there was Bill Hargrave for a boss. Young and clever and attractive. at-tractive. That was a factor, too. Because in the advertising business as an ad that says. "This means you." And she saw how much harder to please he was during the overtime hours more irritable, more apt to get that edge of complaint com-plaint in his voice. So when Nancy had said, "I don't mind staying nights, really. I know Paula usually has a date. She's , popular with the men . . ." well, Paula had been glad to let it go at that. She'd been quick to see that neither of them was going to get the job mainly on sex appeal, and she was right. Paula didn't need any lessons when it came to office politics. She was the one who was always busy when some copy cub wanted his stuff typed. "Sorry, but it's impossible, impos-sible, Mac. Why not ask Nancy?" And they did. It left Paula free to do Bill Hargrave's work in a hurry. Never too busy for Mr. Bill. When Hargrave finally pressed one of those buttons it was at Paula's desk that the light flickered. flick-ered. She started to make a grab for her note book, but she whipped out her mirror first. Then she grabbed up her note book and an envelope that was on the desk. As for Nancy, what else could she do but sit there with her pretty blonde head bent over her typewriter? type-writer? Nancy was a natural blonde, and that seemed the best way to describe her. She just didn't seem to know any tricks. The moment Paula got inside Hargrave's Har-grave's office, he asked about that stateroom. "Any luck, Paula?" No, Paula hadn't been dumb. It was the little things that would add with Mr. Bill. Orchestra seats when the client was in town and the show was sold out. Or a stateroom state-room when there were "no staterooms state-rooms to be had for love or money." |