Perfect Partners

take over the presidential suite.
    Presidential suite—the term was a joke. Thornquist Gear had never had much use for a president’s office. It had never had a president who spent any time at his desk. The only thing Charlie had ever done while seated at his desk was tie flies.
    Four stories below Joel the sales floor of the downtown branch of Thornquist Gear hummed with activity. The summer camping season was over and the ski season was about to begin. The annual run on ski boots was already starting.
    Ten years ago Thornquist Gear had occupied one tiny shop on First Avenue. Today the company leased half a block of office space and had retail outlets on the east side and down in Portland.
    The first two floors of the downtown store were retail, and the two upper floors housed Accounting, Marketing and other operations. Joel still got a surge of pride and deep satisfaction every time he walked through the front door of Thornquist Gear.
    First Avenue was busy, as usual. From his window Joel could see one Thai restaurant, a sexy lingerie shop, a take-out deli that featured Mediterranean cuisine, one adult theater, and a pawnshop. Facing the building that housed Thornquist was a fine old hotel that dated back to the turn of the century. It had recently been gutted and converted into upscale condominiums.
    Joel watched as a plane came in over Elliott Bay. The slice of water he could see from his window was the color of steel under a gray sky. There was rain on the way, according to the forecast. Some people had a tough time with the continual gloom of Seattle. They moved to the city and ended up leaving six months later because they couldn’t take the clouds and endless mist.
    Joel wondered hopefully if Letty would be driven off by long periods of overcast skies. It would certainly make the task of persuading her to sell out to him easier if she was.
    With his luck she would find the rain romantic.
    Behind him his secretary’s firm, no-nonsense voice sounded on the intercom.
    “Mr. Blackstone, there’s a call for you on line two. Manford from Marketing. He says it’s important.”
    Joel turned toward the desk. “Thanks, Mrs. Sedgewick. I’ve got it. By the way, Mrs. Sedgewick?”
    “Yes, Mr. Blackstone?”
    “How is Ms. Thornquist’s office coming along?”
    “Should be ready by tomorrow, sir. And I’ve finally lined up a secretary for her. Arthur Bigley from Accounting.” Mrs. Sedgewick paused meaningfully. “I believe he is exactly what you were looking for. And he is thrilled with his sudden and unexpected promotion.”
    “Good. Send him in here for a few minutes, will you? I want to brief him personally on his new responsibilities.”
    “I understand, Mr. Blackstone.”
    “Fine.” Joel punched a button. “Blackstone here. What’s the problem, Cal?”
    “We’ve got to make some decisions on the thrust of the new ad campaign before we get the agency on line. I can’t hold things up much longer or we’ll start missing some deadlines. We need your approval on the contract, Joel.”
    “All right. Let me take one more look at it this weekend. Schedule a meeting for Monday morning.”
    “Right.” Cal cleared his throat. “Uh, shall I include Ms. Thornquist?”
    “There’s no need to bother her with this kind of thing during her first week here,” Joel said smoothly. “She’ll have enough on her hands just getting the feel of the place.”
    “Sure. Monday morning, then. I’ll talk to your secretary.”
    Joel hung up the phone and sat fiddling with a pen for a few minutes. He was normally much more decisive about things than he had been on the matter of this new ad campaign. The trouble was that while he knew what he wanted to accomplish, he was unsure of how to reach the goal.
    During the past ten years he had built up Thornquist Gear using traditional approaches in the marketplace. He understood the kind of people who lived in the Pacific Northwest. His family had lived in Washington for three generations. Joel knew instinctively how to target the basic market.
    With the new campaign he would be taking some chances. The idea was to appeal to people who had no more than a nodding acquaintance with the wonders of the magnificent countryside that surrounded them.
    With the influx of enthusiastic new residents into Oregon and Washington, a whole new market was taking shape for companies such as Thornquist Gear. The way Joel saw it, that new market, which had yet to be firmly targeted and