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A Winter Dream(23)

By:Richard Paul Evans


“Not that any of that matters to my father. When we’re together at holidays, my father still wants to relive my brother’s glory days. It’s pathetic, really. He can’t even comprehend what I do. All he knows about advertising is what he learned from Darrin Stephens and Larry Tate on Bewitched.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he replied. “My life is golden. Stressed, but golden. I feel sorry for my brother. That’s quiet desperation for you, knowing your best days are behind you. Imagine, peaking in high school.” He looked down at my plate. “Good stuff, isn’t it? Real deep-dish pizza. Nothing better.”

I nodded. “We had a Chicago-style pizza place in Denver.”

He shook his head. “There’s something wrong about that.”

We both went back to eating. After a few minutes Timothy said, “I think you’re going to do well here. Who knows? Maybe your brother did you a favor.”

“Time will tell.”

Timothy nodded. “Time is a snitch.” He took off his glasses and wiped them with a napkin, then put them back on. “Do you know anyone in Chicago?”

“Other than you and Leonard? No.”

“If you need anything, just call. What’s your cell number.”

“I don’t have a phone,” I said. “I had to leave it behind. I was going to pick one up yesterday after work, but that didn’t happen.”

Timothy said, “There’s a Verizon store just over on Michigan Avenue. I could write down directions if you want.”

“Thanks.” I suddenly smiled. “Actually, I do know someone. I met a woman over at a diner near my apartment. She offered to show me around town.”

“That sounds promising,” he said.

“She was really . . . kind. And beautiful.”

“Where do you live?”

“In the Polish area, near Jefferson Park.”

“I’ve been there. Those Polish women. They say that the Polish women are the most beautiful in Europe, and, even better, they don’t know it.”

“I don’t think she’s Polish,” I said.

“Well, good luck anyway.” Timothy glanced down at his watch. “It’s almost one-thirty. The jury should be through deliberating. Let’s go check the verdict.”

“Nervous?” I asked.

He nodded. “I was born nervous.”

A brisk wind blew down Wabash as we made the hike back to the agency.

“Is it always this cold?” I asked.

“Lake effect,” Timothy said. “Cuts to the bone.”

It took us fifteen minutes to make it back to the Leo Burnett Building. Kate approached us as we stepped out of the elevator. She looked frantic. “Any word?”

“I don’t know. We just got back from lunch,” Timothy said.

“Where’d you go?” she asked.

“Uno.”

She nodded, then turned to me. “Did you love it?”

“What’s not to love?” I said.

“You said it.” She turned back to Timothy. “Potts has been on the phone since he got back.”

“Are you spying on him?” Timothy asked.

“Of course I am.”

Timothy leaned forward and whispered to her, “I’ll let you know.”

We walked back to our desks. I was just settling into my cubicle when my phone rang. “Potts wants to see us,” Timothy said.



Timothy tilted his head at Kim and she nodded. Timothy smiled. I took this as a good omen, though seeing Potts’s face put doubts back in my mind. He still looked angry. He was leaning back in his chair, glaring at us. We sat down before he asked us to.

“They liked it, didn’t they?” Timothy said.

Without smiling, Potts said, “They loved it.”

“I knew they would,” Timothy said.

“They still need to focus-test,” he said.

“Bring it on.”

“What were their comments?” I asked.

Potts’s gaze focused on Timothy. “They said, ‘Next time bring us the good stuff first.’ ” He looked us over. “Now get out of here. You’ve got work to do.”

We both got up to leave.

“Jacobson, you stay.”

I glanced at Timothy. He raised his eyebrows then walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Potts gazed at me for a moment. “Sit.”

“Yes, sir.” I sat back down.

“So that was your concept.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You pulled that off pretty fast.”

“I come from a small firm. We rarely had the luxury of time.”

“As it should be. Some of our people have lost that mentality. Production takes time, but a great idea can come in a millisecond. Where are you from?”