The Villa

and trendy hair and little wire-rim glasses and electronic palm books. Two were female, one was male. All were young and handsome. He couldn't for the life of him remember who was who, as they'd all had androgynous names.
    He had some kind of fancy coffee in his hand he hadn't wanted and everyone was talking at once and munching on biscotti.
    He was getting a killer headache.
    "No, Kris, what I'm looking for is subtle but powerful. A strong image with an emotional message. Trace, quick sketch: couple—young, casual, late twenties. Relaxing on a porch. Sexual, but keep it casual."
    Since the man with the blond choppy hair picked up the pencil and sketch pad, Ty assumed he was Trace.
    "It's sunset," Sophia continued, rising from her desk to wander the room. "End of day. This is a working couple, no kids, upwardly mobile, but settled."
    "Porch swing," the perky black woman in a red vest suggested.
    "Too settled. Too country. Wicker love seat, maybe," Sophia said. "Strong color in the cushions. Candles on the table. Fat ones, not tapers."
    She leaned over Trace's shoulder, made humming noises. "Good, good, but do it this way. Have them looking at each other, maybe have her leg swung over his knees. Friendly intimacy. Roll up his sleeves, put her in jeans, no, in khakis."
    She sat on the edge of her desk, lips pursed as she pondered. "I want them to be having a conversation. Relaxed, having a moment. Enjoying each other's company after a busy day."
    "What if one of them's pouring the wine. Holding the bottle."
    "We'll try that. You want to sketch that one out, P.J.?"
    With a nod perky P.J., as Ty now thought of her, picked up her pad.
    "You should have water." The second woman, a redhead who looked bored and annoyed, stifled a yawn.
    "I see we've interrupted Kris's nap," Sophia said sweetly, and Ty caught the quick, simmering glare under the redhead's lowered lashes.
    "Suburban scenes bore me. At least water adds an element, and subliminal sexuality."
    "Kris wants water." Sophia nodded, pushed to her feet to wander the room while she considered. "Water's good. A pond, a lake. We can get good light from that. Reflections. Take a look, Ty. What do you think?"
    He did his best to tune back in and look intelligent as Trace turned his sketch around. "I don't know anything about advertising. It's a nice sketch."
    "You look at ads," Sophia reminded him. "All the time, whether you consciously take in the message or not. What does this say to you?"
    "It says they're sitting on the porch drinking wine. Why can't they have kids?"
    "Why should they?"
    "You got a couple, on a porch. Porch usually means house. Why can't they have kids?"
    "Because we don't want young kids in an ad for an alcoholic beverage," Kris said, with a hint of a sneer in her voice. "Advertising 101."
    "Evidence of kids then. You know, some toys on the porch. Then it says these people have a family, have been together awhile and are still happy to sit on the porch together and have a glass of wine at the end of the day. That's sexy."
    Kris started to open her mouth, then noted the gleam come into Sophia's eyes. And wisely closed it again.
    "That's good. That's excellent," Sophia said. "Even better for this one. Toss toys on the porch, Trace. Keep the wine bottle on the table with the candles. Here's our cozy yet hip suburban couple.
    "Celebrate the sunset," she murmured. "It's your moment. Relax with Giambelli. It's your wine."
    "More cozy than hip," Kris muttered.
    "We use an urban setting for hip. Two couples, friends getting together for an evening. Apartment scene. Keep them young, keep them slick. Show me the city out the window. Lights and silhouettes."
    "Coffee table," P.J. put in, already sketching. "A couple of them sitting on the floor. The others lounging on the couch, everybody talking at once. You can almost hear music playing. Food scattered on the table. Takeout. This is where we pour the wine."
    "Good, perfect. Celebrate Tuesday. Same tags."
    "Why Tuesday?" Ty wanted to know in spite of himself.
    "Because you never make big plans for Tuesday." Sophia slid onto the edge of the desk again, crossed her legs. "You make plans for the weekend. You fall into plans otherwise. Tuesday night with friends is spontaneous. We want people to pick up a bottle of our wine on the spur. Just because it's Tuesday. Your moment, your wine. That's the pitch."
    "The wine's Giambelli-MacMillan."
    She nodded. "Correct. We need to identify that as well within the campaign.