The Adventures of James Dean.

11.

The rest of the day didn't go so well.

I always think that if you start the day off with a bang (sadly for me, I hadn't been laid since that little rendezvous with Stacey), then you're destined to get through whatever obstacles are thrown at you. I had two clients unhappy with the commercials we'd created for them, so it was back to the drawing board, and then I ran into Treat Murphy. Treat was one of our biggest clients, he owned practically every national publication, magazines, newspapers, gossip websites, you name it, and I guarantee at the end of the month Treat was steadily getting richer. He had the monopoly on all things print, and boy did he like to gloat.

'I like your style!' Treat greeted, slapping my hand with his for a strong, finger crushing handshake. At five foot six, he wasn't the tallest guy but he made up for it with his business balls and his debilitating handshake. Honestly, those things are like having your fingers trapped in a door. I tried to avoid him when I could. My fingers always thanked me.

He gestured around the office, a grin on his almost childlike face. Treat always reminded me of the actor Matthew Broderick. Greying, but the baby face remained. 'I rolled up a half hour ago and nobody knew where you were. That's the best way.' He tapped the side of his nose, as if we shared a secret. 'What was it? Golf?' He winked, and without giving me time to answer, in his usual style, he moved on. 'I won't tell anybody James. Call it a secret between friends.'

I smiled weakly, hoping he'd get to the point soon, with whatever request he was going to make. The guy was okay in small doses. Any more than that and I lost patience with every passing millisecond. Before I could say anything more, he whipped something out of my suit breast pocket. I'd forgotten all about stashing the ultrasound images there. And now Treat knew.

Shit.

'You dark horse!' Treat slapped my arm. Again, he was heavy handed, that little palm of his packing a lot of clout. 'I came to speak to you about a little or perhaps not so little proposition I have, but that can wait till tomorrow night.' He raised his eyebrows and waggled them up and down. The man was becoming more and more irksome. He'd invaded my personal space, and as a result I'd unwittingly divulged something I'd prefer not to common knowledge.

'Tomorrow night?' I had no clue what he was referring to. But then I never did.

'Tomorrow is my annual Fall Ball!' He clapped his hands over his heart. It was a little camp. 'I had no idea you were in a relationship, and expecting a child! We'd love to have you both attend tomorrow!'

'Treat.' I was ready to protest, to find an excuse any excuse, but then I'd never been to his ball before. The attendees were high caliber professionals and politicians, all of them couples. And he assumed that the ultrasound image was a sign that I'd settled down. He and his wife had been married for nearly thirty years and he always maintained that beyond every successful business, was a successful marriage. We'd come to blows before, arguing about whether a man needed a woman at home, or whether he could go it alone. It was all banter, but I knew underneath it all, he really did depend on the stability he had at home, to ground him.

I didn't need all of that. I could ground myself.

I was stronger and more powerful, business wise, for having gone it alone.

But I did want to see what all the fuss was about. I'd read that Treat's parties were one of a kind, ostentatious, ridiculously over the top, and with food more exquisite than anything that could be purchased even in the most well thought of restaurants. There weren't many events in town that I'd not been a part of, and this would be another to add to the list. I might even be able to network and score some of the contacts I'd not been able to work with yet. This could be really good for Radspace. I had to think with my business brain, rid myself of all thoughts of Jen and the baby.