The Agency

Dear reader,

This is a longer story than I am used to writing. There is not a lot a lot of sex in this one but there is some. This is much more about the romance than it is about hot sex.

The moment I saw her walk into our offices I was riveted. Ingrid Olsen was... different. It was hard to say exactly what it was about her that captured my attention.

She was dressed conservatively in a skirt and jacket ensemble and wore heels that were sensible but fashionable too. She had dirty blonde hair that was well-coiffed. Her eyes were blue and she had a slight heavy-lidded look. Her mouth had a very different shape and it was the defining factor in her look. There was something cruel about the way the corners of her mouth curled that was something between a smirk and a sneer.

She walked across the office and knocked on the managing director's door. She opened the door and went inside, the door closing behind her.

An hour later she came out of the office smoothing out her skirt and walked past my desk on her way out. As I've said, I was riveted, I couldn't take my eyes off her. As she passed she gave me the old school days taunt.

"Take a picture, it will last longer!"

To which I snappily replied,

"Sounds great, are you offering to pose for me?"

She turned and looked at me and smiled/smirked/sneered, it was so hard to tell with her.

"Cute comeback." She turned away and left the office.

"What did you say to her?" Asked the managing director.

"I couldn't help staring at her and she suggested a photo would last longer."

"She quite a pistol isn't she."

"She's a striking woman."

"Don't get your hopes up Casanova, she's out of your league."

Funny, Casanova is a foreign translation of my last name, Newhouse. James Newhouse.

The following week I was called into a meeting of the department heads to hear about a proposed advertising campaign. Ingrid Olsen came into the boardroom with the managing director. She set up her laptop and got ready to make the presentation.

"Hello, I'm Ingrid Olsen, I represent Greyson Howard Advertising. I would like to present three different proposals to you. Our team came up with five solid ideas and we narrowed it down to these three.

Her voice was like dripping honey, smooth and sweet. She had a slight Scandinavian accent. She had my rapt attention.

The three campaigns were aimed at different markets. They were decent, competent ideas but nothing 'out of the box."

When she asked for questions, I raised my hand.

"The industrial market and commercial market campaigns are straightforward enough but I'm concerned about the retail level campaign. It is multi-level and uses multi-media platforms. The timeline to launch is pretty rushed. I worry that Greyson Howard won't be able to produce the creative in time. I know Harry Howard's work and he has trouble meeting deadlines."

"I don't think that Harry has ever missed a deadline in his career."

"I beg to differ, Ms. Olsen, he has missed at least three in the time I've known him."

"I will personally ensure that if you give us the go ahead on this today we can and will have the creative in place. Can I go ahead and proceed with the media buy?"

"You certainly live by the ABC of sales, 'Always Be Closing' but I'm afraid we will need to discuss this amongst ourselves. We should get back to you tomorrow."

She looked sideways at the managing director who shrugged his shoulders. She packed up her computer and left the contract and presentation details with us. I watched her leave the boardroom and close the door.

"You were a little hard on her weren't you Newhouse?" Asked the managing director.

"I worked for Greyson Howard as head of client services for five years. Harry Howard works at a snail's pace. He missed three crucial deadlines and lost the firm three good clients. It's one of the reasons I left there."

The general consensus was that the proposed campaigns were well thought out and the creative was 'good enough.' I begged to differ but I was the only dissenting voice. To me, the creative was pure Harry Howard, lazy and unimaginative.

I called Ingrid Olsen to give her the news.

"We have gone over the presentation and we would like to approve it and get the new creative up and running. I'll expect to see proofs asap."

"Your name is Newhouse, right? There was a Newhouse that used to work here, are you related?"

"Sadly yes, he and I are the same person. I was head of client services for five years. Harry failed to complete the creative for three crucial clients. It was the reason I resigned."

"So if you had stayed you would have been my boss."

"Yes, but I had my fill of the agency business. I decided to cast my lot with the Atlas Tire Corporation as Marketing Director. Ms. Olsen, I have the contract signed, would you like to have dinner with me this evening? I could give you the signed agreement then."

"You could just scan and send it to me."

"But then we couldn't gossip about who is doing what to who at the agency could we?"

"Fine, 7pm at Scaramouche Manor, I'll expense it."

"I look forward to seeing you there."

----------

I have been a bachelor all my life. At thirty years of age, I still refuse to settle down with a good woman. I have dated many women but never found one that would make me question my devotion to remaining single.

Ingrid Olsen was at the restaurant before me. She was seated and was sipping a martini.

"I'm not used to being the last to arrive." I quipped.

"I'm always early, it's a personality flaw in me."

"It's a rare quality."

"Mr. Newhouse, you surprised me when you questioned whether we could handle the creative timeline."

"Only because Harry is a lazy asshole. Surely you knew about him missing those three deadlines."

"No, I didn't. I asked someone who had been working in the office for ages about it. They said there was a big blow-up between you and Harry. After you left, the agency wiped the episode from the corporate memory."

"It was not his, or my finest hour. I could never work with him that closely again."

"He hasn't changed much. He is lazy but he is a partner and holds my fate in his hands so I show him due deference."

"How did you come to join the agency, Ms. Olsen?"

"Call me Ingrid, please."

"And I'm James."

"I have a degree in Marketing. I fell into the sales side of the business and found I was quite good at it."

"Ah yes, client services allows you to be a jack of all trades."

"Yes, and a master of none. It makes for a more interesting career."

We ordered our meals and she ordered another martini. I had a pint of stout.

"Stout? Not a really popular drink these days is it?"

"Actually, Ingrid, it's growing more popular. They are even producing non-alcoholic stouts of good quality these days. As a bachelor, I have some odd, perhaps anachronistic habits. I not only prefer stout as a drink I also smoke a pipe."

"Really? You don't see many pipe smokers these days."

"True, it is a bit of a dying thing. I do enjoy it though. There is a certain something about the scent of a good pipe tobacco."

"Next thing you'll tell me you wear spats and a fedora."

"I do wear a fedora sometimes but never spats. I must compliment you on your fashion sense Ingrid."

"I usually stick to the classics, skirt and pant suits and a good variety of blouses are appropriate for most of my work."

"It amazes me how many women don't realize that. They wear clothes are are in fashion but totally wrong for their body type."

"I must be doing something right because it seems that every time I walk into the office you can't take your eyes off me."

"Guilty as charged. You have a quality about you that I can't look away from. It's embarrassing how little control I have over it."

" I don't know what you see in me. Most people think I look pissed off all the time. It's something to do with my mouth. I had a bout with palsy a while back."

"I'm glad you said that, it is a severe look but you have the blue eyes to soften the look somewhat."

"You know, James, I often ask clients out for dinner. Most turn me down. They think I'll snap at them or something. I was surprised when you asked me out."

"I am enjoying talking to you. I can see the long-term effects of the palsy at the corners of your mouth. Can you smile for me?"

She smiled, I could see it in her eyes but her mouth made it look like a smirk or sneer.

"Okay, that makes sense now. I'm sorry you're experiencing the effects of the palsy but it gives you a very unique look."

"It makes me look stern and judgemental. Some say that my face projects my personality."

"You are a very interesting woman Ingrid. I'd love to see you again."

"James, we are in a business relationship. I'm here to thank you for the signed contract. I don't want to get involved personally if you know what I mean."

"Of course I understand. Strictly business between us. Forgive me for hoping."

"Hope springs eternal, James. I'd prefer keeping things clean for the business's sake."

"Good, thanks for a lovely evening. Here is your signed contract. I look forward to hearing back from you soon."

----------

Things went smoothly back at the office. Everything regarding the campaign was double-checked and ready to go.

Ingrid had come in with the final proofs for sign-off. We met in the boardroom.

"I thought there would be more people here for this meeting."

"Everything has gone so smoothly they've left final sign-off authority with me."

We looked at the final elements that would be sent to the various media. Everything was shipshape.

"You must have read Harry the Riot Act to get these so quickly."

"Harry just needs to be pushed a little. I think he listens to me. Sometimes I think he fears me, although I don't see why."

"You are a woman who is very much in control. A guy like Harry would see you as intimidating."

"So how do you see me?"

"As a driven, highly competent woman who is dedicated to serving her clients. I also see you as a woman I would love to get to know better."

"I said it before, not a great idea. Mixing business and pleasure isn't good for anyone."

"Of course, you're right, but a guy can dream can't he?"

"Keep dreaming, James."

I escorted Ingrid to the door. She gave me that smirk before shaking my hand and leaving.

On the way back to the office, one of my coworkers commented.

"Hey James, get shot down again? She's an ice queen, that one."

"Nah, she's just misunderstood."

"You want her, don't you? It's all over your face. You got it bad."

----------

The campaigns were up and running. Sales figures showed that the campaign was working.

The company president was hosting a season opening pool party. Attendance was mandatory for staff. I wasn't big on these kinds of social gatherings because everyone brought wives and husbands along with them. I had no wife and at the moment no girlfriend.

When I showed up the party was in full swing. The pool was busy the barbecue was smoking and a band played dance music. There was a dance floor on the patio where several people enjoyed a dance with their partners.

I got a stout from the bar and made the rounds visiting the executives, pressing the flesh and listening to bad jokes. At the first decent opportunity, I headed toward the car park. On the way, I bumped into Ingrid Olsen.

"Ingrid, what are you doing here?"

"The president wanted someone from the agency to come to this event. You could say I drew the short straw. These things aren't my forte."

"You and me both. I'm not a terribly social animal. Are you here alone?"

"Yes, I've had a few martinis and thought I'd walk around and wear some of it off before heading home."

"Smart move, I've had two pints of stout. Are you leaving or would you like to sit for a bit?"

"Let's sit down. Did you bring a bathing suit?"

"I did, it's in my car. How about you?"

"In my purse."

"It must be damned small to fit in there."

"It is rather small. I'm not sure I'll go swimming."

We sat on some lounges by the pool. I pulled out my briar pipe and filled it with tobacco, packed it in lightly and lit it.

"Wow, that smells wonderful."

"It's MacBarens, one of my favourites."

"How did you ever start pipe smoking?"

"As a kid. My friend and I bought corn cob pipes and a pouch of cheap pipe tobacco. We made ourselves sick by smoking the whole pouch. I tried cigars and cigarettes but nothing touched the experience of smoking the pipe."

"The aroma is divine!"

"So what vices do you have, if any?"

"None, I'm pure as the wind driven snow. Except for an addiction to martinis."

"Would you like one?"

"I was trying to sober up."

"I'm going to get something so I'll get you a martini. You can just hold it if you like."

"Not a chance. If I have it in my hand I'm drinking it."

I walked to the bar and got the drinks. When I got back to the pool my lounge was occupied by a young man I had seen around the office, I didn't know his name. I heard Ingrid announce...

"Oh, here comes my date now."

The guy looked up at me and finally recognized me out of my suit.

"Oh, sorry sir. I didn't know this was your date."

He dashed off towards the bar.

"Was the young man trying his luck? Did I hear you say I was your date tonight? I'm honoured."

"He was putting a move on me. Of course, you're my date. I don't know all that many people here."

"Enjoy your martini and then we'll have a dance."

"If I'm going to dance I'll need two martinis."

"That can be arranged."

The one martini on top of the unnumbered ones she had consumed before seemed to do the trick. She stood up and held her hand out to me.

"Come and dance with me, James."

She was a good dancer, better than me. There was something so magnetic about her that it felt impossible to resist. The more we danced the closer we held each other. She was feeling the full effect of her martinis. Our dancing slowed to a crawl. I just held her there and we swayed back and forth not even moving our feet.

"James?"

"Ingrid?"

"I want to go home."

"Okay, you shouldn't drive. I'll make sure you get home."

"Will you drive me home?"

"I haven't had much to drink so I should be fine to drive you there."

"Will you drive me to your home?"

"Why would you want to come to my home and not yours?"

"Because I want you to fuck me."

"Ingrid, you told me business and pleasure should be mutually exclusive. Why have you changed your mind?"

"Because you have been so nice to me and I want to have sex with you."

"Let's go to your home." I walked her to my car and got her into the passenger seat. I headed toward the city.

"What is your address?"

There was no answer, I looked over at her, she was asleep.

"I guess it will have to be my place."

It wasn't a long drive and traffic was light. I pulled into my garage and carefully lifted Ingrid out of the car. Holding her and unlocking the door was a hell of a juggling act. I took her to my bedroom and set her down on the bed. I pulled out a comforter and covered her. I thought about getting her out of her clothes but I didn't want the drama of having her waking up naked in a strange bed.

My sofa was a little short for me but I could curl up. I'd be cramped in the morning.

The sun had just risen over the horizon when I heard Ingrid enter the room.

"James?"

"Present."

"Did I pass out?"

"I was all set to take you to your home but you hadn't told me your address. You passed out in my car so I decided to bring you here."

"Did we...?"

"You're fully dressed so what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I was pretty horny last night."

"Yes, actually we both were, but we are supposed to be 'professional' and not get involved personally."

"I'm sorry, I must have been a big tease."

"Let's just say we both flirted with each other. You must be hung over."

"Nope, martinis are my friend. For some reason I can drink them all night and have no ill effects, no hangover. I claim it's something in the Juniper berries, I feel fine."

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"Sure, what can I do?"

"Go have a shower, do your girlie stuff. I'll fry some eggs, bacon and make some toast and coffee."

I could hear the shower running and I couldn't help but think about the cool water spraying down on her naked body. If I didn't stop daydreaming and pay attention I was going to burn the bacon. I put bread in the toaster and I would fry the eggs as soon as she came back into the kitchen.

She came in wearing my terrycloth robe, her hair still damp.

"It smells fabulous."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy."

"Me too."

"She looked fabulous in my robe. She crossed her legs sitting at the kitchen table. She showed a lot of leg.

"Are you still teasing me, Ingrid?"

"Maybe, just a little. I haven't thanked you yet for being so gallant last night. A lot of men would have taken advantage of me."

"You did look rather cute when you were sleeping but honestly, I could never do that kind of thing. I could have slipped into bed beside you but thought you might freak out when you woke."

"I was the one who suggested you take me home. Still, you're right, I'd likely have freaked out."

We ate breakfast and chatted. I was in a T-shirt and boxers, she was in my robe. Once again I marvelled at her facial features. The heavy-lidded blue eyes, the smile that never quite reached above a smirk. She was mesmerizing.

She shifted in her chair and the robe gaped open wide enough that I could see her chest as far down as her navel, her breasts remained covered.

"Oops, sorry." She said as she closed the robe.

"Don't apologize. It was a spectacular view."

"There's more where that came from."

She untied the robe and let it open. It covered her breasts and the table covered her below the waist but just the thought of her sitting there with robe open gave me an erection.

"Ingrid, you're playing with fire."

"Is that your way of telling me you think I'm hot?"

"Are we maintaining our strictly professional relationship status?"

"Do I listen to my head or do I listen to my heart?"

"I can't answer that for you. I think I've made it clear that I am interested in a personal connection."

She stood up, with the robe open I could see her trimmed pussy, flat stomach and very shapely legs.

"Then why don't you take me back to your bedroom? I'm stone cold sober and I want you, James."

On the way to the bedroom, she dropped the robe. Her body was gorgeous, I was hypnotized by her swaying hips. She had tan lines that indicated her bathing suit was indeed tiny. She turned her head, looking back over her shoulder. Her heavy-lidded bedroom eyes beckoned me to take her.

We kissed for the first time and it was very different. The palsy that had affected the muscles around her mouth also changed the way she kissed. It was unusual but in a good way.

"I'm not very good with my mouth, obviously."

"You have a unique kiss. I'd call it memorable."

"The muscles make oral a bit of a problem."

"I can live without that."

"But I can't, It's time for you to kiss my landing strip."

"Very nice, by the way, did you do it yourself?"

I kissed the landing strip and worked my way between her legs.

"Yes, I trim after every shower, except today of course. Oh, keep it up, that feels divine."

I wouldn't want to brag but I have become very adept at the fine art of cunnilingus. Most of my serious girlfriends pushed me to marry them after experiencing my skills. As a confirmed bachelor I broke their hearts.

Ingrid was thoroughly enjoying her second orgasm as I coaxed her clitoris from its hood with my lips and tongue.

She tapped out.

"Kiss me!" She cried and she shook with another orgasm.

"Can we hold on a minute? I need to calm my system down. You have quite a talent there James."

"Why thank you, ma'am. You are pretty special yourself."

"I haven't done anything, it's been all you so far."

"You don't have to do anything. You're special by nature."

"Okay, I think we can fuck now if you're ready."

I lay on my back and let her have the top. She gently lowered herself onto me and slowly, centimetre by centimetre, she pushed herself onto me. I never kidded myself that I had a big impressive cock. All I knew was that I hadn't had a bad review yet.

The pace started slow and sensual. She was wet and she felt hot inside. Her muscles gripped my cock as I thrust deep. She had obviously had considerable experience. Within five minutes I warned her that I was about to cum.

"Cum inside."

"You sure?"

"I want it, give me your sperm."

I ejaculated and I could feel her using her muscles to pull it deeper inside her.

"Holy Shit, Ingrid... fucking amazing."

"Same for me babe, same for me. Best ever."

We lazed for a few hours before I drove her back to her car.

"Ingrid, thank you for an amazing experience. I don't want us to be a one off. I feel something stronger developing."

"You are the most talented lover I've had the pleasure to know. I don't plan on giving you up easily. We will do this again."

With that promise in my head, we didn't see each other for two more weeks.

----------

With the usual workload, I was kept very busy although not busy enough to keep Ingrid Olsen far from my thoughts. We had shared a few text messages since our tumultuous morning after but no promise to get together again. By the end of two weeks, I was desperate for her. All I could think of was how amazing that morning was.

Finally, she called to ask me to dinner. We met at the same restaurant.

Once again she had arrived before me and had a martini sitting in front of her. She wore a dress, black but very snug and very thin translucent material. She had dressed to excite and to tease.

"You're a creature of habit aren't you, James?"

"You have me dead to rights. I am a man who likes order in his chaos."

"Yet you are still a bachelor. How is that possible? Surely the women in Grantham can tell that you are a prime catch."

"I put it down to having high standards. I won't settle for almost right. I enjoy my habits, habits that sometimes don't make me an ideal husband."

"Well, I approve of you."

"Where have you been in the last two weeks?"

"Stockholm, visiting family."

"Do you miss Sweden?"

"I love Sweden but I like it here too."

"Maybe I should come with you sometime. I've never been to Stockholm."

"You are getting way ahead of yourself. Let's think short term. Where would you like to later, after dinner?"

"I think we could enjoy ourselves the short way or the long way."

The long way would be we go to the jazz club and grope each other on the dance floor and then go to your place and spend the night together."

"What is the short way?"

"We skip the dancing and go straight to your place."

"There is a third or even a fourth option, James. We skip dinner and go straight to my place. The quickest option would be to meet me in the woman's washroom."

Wow, she was full of great ideas and she already had me hard.

"Ingrid, if you were a casual fling I'd say skip it all and go right to your place. Hell, I might even go for a quickie in a stall with you. I see something better, more long-term with you and I don't want to cheapen it."

She smiled that strangled smirk that I had come to know.

"So dancing and drinks it is. I could get used to you."

"I hope so."

The meal was as good as ever. We walked to the club and ordered more drinks. When we danced slowly it was sensual. In the right light, you could almost see through the dress she wore. I brought my hand up to touch her breast over the fabric of the dress. She gasped.

"Naughty boy!"

"That's me, you bring it out in me."

"You make me want you inside me. If you don't stop doing what you're doing and take me home I will take you in your car!"

She took my hand and dragged me out of the club. I opened the car door for her. Once I got seated she pulled her dress up to show me the thong she wore underneath. I pulled it to the side and felt her wetness.

"If you only knew how much I need you, James."

"I want you as much as you want me. We could do something here but it would be risky."

"Fuck risky, do it now, like you did the first time, with your mouth."

I had to be a contortionist to get myself in a position that didn't expose us to a passersby but the prize awaiting me was worth the cramps and aches I'd have later.

She had two lovely orgasms before she tapped out.

"Take me home and fuck me proper."

I may have broken a few speed limits in the race to get to her place.

I didn't take time to admire her beautifully furnished apartment. We had one thing in mind and it wasn't interior decorating.

Our first time that night was 100% all-in, full on, straight forward fucking. It was fast hard and brutal on both of us. It was like we were starved and finally had a meal before us.

The second was far more gentle and loving. We took the time to ensure we were pleasing each other. I had never had a woman who could get me this wound up.

By our third time, the sheets were drenched with our bodily fluids and it was uncomfortable so we had a shower together.

"You know that a girl could get used to this."

"We seem to be on the same page. We are very compatible. Scarily so for a bachelor like me."

"I like you, James. I more than like you, you are making me fall for you."

"I'm already there with you too, Ingrid.

"We are treading dangerous ground."

"How so?"

"There is so much you don't know. I never thought I would feel the way I do about you. I didn't think it was possible. I was wrong. My not taking that into account makes this dangerous."

"I don't understand."

"Let me work it out. Let's get some sleep. I'll change the sheets."

We spent that weekend together. I was falling in love with this very quirky woman. We spent each weekend for six months together. I was besotted with her.

One Friday evening I dropped by her apartment. She wasn't home yet so I let myself in. There was a man sitting on her sofa, a rather large man, with a long red beard, looking for all the world like a Viking.

"You're not Ingrid, who are you? The Viking asked."

"Your powers of observation are exceptionally keen. My name is James Newhouse. I'm a friend of Ingrid."

He stood up. Crap, he was a giant!

"My name is Lars Olsen, Ingrid's husband.

"I'm sorry, did you say you are Ingrid's husband?

This man mountain did not look pleased to meet me. I could hardly blame him.

"Yes, and you're a friend of Ingrid, a friend with a key to her apartment."

When he spoke he sounded like the guy from the IKEA radio commercial.

"We have become good friends, close friends."

"How close?"

"Umm, very close. Was Ingrid expecting you?"

"No, if she did you probably wouldn't be here."

"Lars, you may not believe me and I wouldn't blame you if you thought I was lying but, I didn't know she was married."

"I don't want to discuss it with you. I want to wait to speak to Ingrid."

"Why don't I just let myself out so you and Ingrid can have a nice friendly discussion without my being a third wheel?"

"Sit, we'll wait."

Thank God I didn't have long to wait. Five minutes felt more like five hours with Lars glaring at me in silence.

The door opened and Ingrid walked in. She saw me waiting in the chair.

"Hey, James how was your..."

She turned and saw Lars standing by the sofa.

"Oh fuck." She exclaimed quietly.

"Lars, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. You haven't been home in six months. I was afraid something had happened to you, evidently, it has."

"So you've met my friend, James."

"Yes, he introduced himself. Is he the reason you haven't been home?"

"Lars, I don't know what to say."

"The truth is always a good starting point."

"When I took this job I knew it would be hard on our marriage if you didn't come with me. I asked you to come but you wouldn't you told me to stay."

"So you've met James here and you've forgotten about me?"

"Not forgotten."

"Not forgotten but ignored, forgotten would be better. James says you never told him you were married. Is that correct?"

"Yes, I was afraid at first because I know James is a man of honour. He would not have dated me if he knew. As our relationship grew it became impossible to tell him."

"Do you love him?"

"Lars, I have never spoken those words to him, but I can't and won't lie to you. Yes, I love him."

"What about you, James?"

"If you'd asked me yesterday I'd have said yes with no hesitation. Now I don't understand why she didn't tell me she was married. That was a pretty important omission."

"I'm sorry."

"I am not a home wrecker. Lars, I apologize to you. I wish you and Ingrid all the best for the future. I'll show myself out."

At least I waited till I got into my car before I gave in to the urge to hit something. I pounded the steering wheel three times then sat with my eyes closed trying to calm myself and failing badly.

Not telling me she was married was wrong, almost the equivalent of lying. Then again, maybe it's my own fault. I spoke to her about my bachelorhood but never asked about her marital status. I assumed she would have told me. As the old saying goes, when you assume you make an ass out of you and me.

The worst part was that over the months we spent together I had fallen madly in love with her. I was even considering giving up my bachelorhood for her. There was an untold story here and I wasn't likely to hear it straight. Even if Ingrid told me the story I'm not sure I'd believe her.

I spent untold hours at work in the office simply because I didn't want to go home and think about Ingrid. I even camped out on the sofa in my new office. Yes, I got a promotion thanks to the success of the marketing campaign that Ingrid and I had planned.

Lars reached out to me at the office, asking to meet for a beer and a conversation. I agreed so we met at a pub across the street from my office.

Lars barely fit in the booth. The man is huge. We placed our orders and eyed each other.

"I'm heading back to Stockholm tomorrow."

"Is Ingrid going with you?"

"No, she has decided to stay here."

"What about your marriage? I know it's none of my business."

"I am getting a divorce. I'll start the process once I get home."

"Did she say why she betrayed you?"

"She said it started as a professional thing. She fell in love. It's that simple and that complicated. She got in too deep without telling you she was married. Then it was too late to avoid damage."

"It would have come to light sooner or later."

"I regret not coming here with her. The palsy took away all her self confidence. She found validation in your attraction to her. If I wasn't there for her you were."

"So there is no way for the two of you to reconcile?"

"I couldn't trust her not to do this again. She is making her career here and not back in Sweden. I am a Swedish boy at heart. I love it there. Dragging her back there would make her miserable and moving me here would make me miserable. No, it's better to simply cut ties now."

"That's sad. I have a very high view of marriage. That is why I have stayed single all these years. It's not because I look down on marriage but that I hold it in such high esteem."

"So James, what are your plans with Ingrid?"

"I don't have any."

"You won't date her?"

"Lars, she cheated on you. I don't care if you had the worst marriage in the world, she was still your wife. She began an affair with me. If she cheated on you how could I trust her not to cheat on me?"

Lars sipped at his beer. He looked to be deep in thought.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but I think it is something you need to know.

Ingrid and I talked about the why and when and how of her affair. She admitted her faults and I admitted mine. The thing is, she loves you, James."

"She loved you too but that didn't stop her from cheating. "

"You don't know about our marriage and the quality of our relationship. She left me and Sweden behind for a reason. I would simply ask that for her sake you will give her a chance to talk to you, to explain. I fear for her health if she doesn't relieve the stress of losing me and you at the same time."

"I hear you but I can't promise anything. I am struggling to deal with this myself."

"I know, I just wanted to ask you to look in on her and listen to her story. You are a good man, she chose well."

"Thanks, Lars. Have a safe trip home."

I should have tried to contact her that day or the day after. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I texted her two weeks after I met with Lars.

"Ingrid, I haven't heard from you. Are you okay?"

I would see the three dots indicating an answer was being written but they would go away, start again and go away again. Then there was nothing.

A day later I finally received a reply.

"Am I okay? No."

"Can I help?"

"No, my mess, my problem."

"If you need to talk I'm right here, anytime, anywhere."

I offered, that's all I could do.

There were signs that things had changed for the worse.

I got a call from the ad agency to tell me that Ms. Olsen will no longer be handling our account. In fact, Ms. Olsen has left the company.

This worried me. She had built a decent career and was on the fast track at the agency. Why quit? The more I looked at it the less sense it made.

Throwing caution to the wind I drove to her apartment. She might kick me out but at least I would see if she was still breathing.

I still had the key so I let myself in.

"Hello, anyone home?"

I thought I could hear something but couldn't discern what it was. Once I got to the hallway I knew the sound came from her small, closet-sized office.

From the hall, I raised my voice again.

"Anyone home?"

The door opened and Ingrid looked shocked to see me.

"Wait in the living room, I'm talking to my Mom." She shut the door.

I sat down and looked around the room. There were still framed photos of her and I, but none of her and Lars. It made me wonder if she would have erased me from her life as easily as she had with Lars. Maybe she just hadn't noticed they were still up.

I felt sorry for Lars. He seemed like a gentle giant of a man. I could sense his deep caring for Ingrid. It made me question all I knew about her.

I heard her office door open and then close and she came to sit on the chair opposite the sofa, well away from me.

"I wasn't sure I'd see you again, James."

"I wasn't sure I wanted to. I met Lars before his flight out. We had a good talk. I reached out to you as I promised him and you weren't responding to my texts. When I was informed that you had left the agency I decided that an in person visit was called for, so consider this a wellness check."

"I'm sorry, I have been saying that a lot lately. As you can see I still draw breath and stand or rather sit upright. You have done your duty."

"You don't look well. You are pale and your eyes are dull. When you speak you are being very careful about your enunciation. That could be because you have been on a martini marathon or your palsy is back due to your stress level."

"Why are you so damned observant?"

"It's what I DO!"

"Why aren't you angry with me? Why aren't you yelling at me?"

"What would my anger change? Would shouting at you make things any better than they are? I think we can agree that it would not help one bit. I had my moment of anger, that has passed. The real question is what is going on in your head?"

"I can't eat and I can't sleep. I quit my job because I couldn't function anymore. I have enough to get by for now. As for my mental state, I believe the proper clinical term is 'basket case.' I've been here before, depression and anxiety disorder with a side of fries."

"Thank God it hasn't damaged your sense of the humour. I think we are long overdue for a discussion. Why don't we start with the root cause of the depression and stress?"

"Well, maybe it was the end of my marriage, the end of my relationship with you and career suicide. Just to name a few!"

"You've told me the reason you didn't disclose that you were married, but I am having difficulty believing it. Your nature is to be completely honest, this whole thing has me questioning everything I thought I knew about you."

"Not telling you was eating me alive. I didn't want to lose you and I knew the truth would kill us."

"You knew it would surface at some time. Why did you cheat on Lars? That might be the thing I need to know most."

"Lars and I were good friends but we never really bonded the way a married couple should. I had a hell of a time finding work in my chosen field. I got an offer here and I accepted it without consulting Lars. Lars would rather die than live anywhere but his beloved Sweden. We argued and pleaded with each other but it wasn't going anywhere. I decided to leave. We agreed to separate.

My career blossomed. Lars and I texted each other with decreasing frequency. On my last visit to Stockholm I met Lars and asked that we proceed with a divorce, Lars refused."

"He didn't tell me about that."

"He didn't want to hear it."

"You could have filed."

"I didn't want it to be a unilateral decision, I wanted us to agree that it was over. We have finally agreed to divorce. I was falling in love with you."

"That explains a lot but it doesn't change anything. Damn it, I fell hard for you, so much so that I was contemplating ending my bachelorhood. I don't think I can get past your deception."

"I wish I'd been upfront about it but it would have meant that 'we' would never have happened. I hate the thought of losing your love but at least we had our time together."

"To go way off topic, what are your career plans?"

"At the moment. I don't know but it is way down the list of priorities."

"You have a natural talent and a heart for the advertising industry. You're bright and fresh, your talents were being wasted where you were. In a way I wish I was still in the business because I would have liked to have you on my team."

"That is the nicest endorsement I've ever received. Thank you!

Why don't you get back into the business?"

"I burned a lot of bridges when I left. I wasn't always the smooth talker I am today. I called a spade a spade and it cost me a lot of goodwill."

"If I could partner with you it would be a dream come true, professionally and personally."

"You've burned a few bridges yourself, and I got burned. You never know, if I could muster up some investment money and find some top-shelf creative talent I might give it a go sometime."

"Back to relationships and reality, be honest with me, okay? Do we still have a chance?"

"Trust is a big issue for me. You've shaken my trust in you. It will be very hard to come back from this, but I want you and I to stay in contact."

"How can I make up for your lack of trust?"

"Be open and transparent with me, hide nothing."

"I will, I promise."

----------

Life went on, Ingrid and I kept in touch but met rarely. I was tired of the same old thing and the thought of opening my own agency was very attractive. I began putting out feelers to take the temperature of the industry.

Ingrid wanted to meet with me. We hadn't met for about six months or so. We were friendly but I was still too spooked.

She appeared much more relaxed than she had been. She wore a short skirt and tank top. Somehow she made the casual combination look classy. Her eyes sparkled, those sexy, heavy-lidded bedroom eyes that I adored. The same half smirk greeted me as I took my seat.

"You look amazing, Ingrid. Life must be treating you well."

"I'm good, James. You've always been good for my ego!"

"I heard you got picked up by Proctor Brothers. They run a tight shop."

"It's okay, better than the last gig. How about you?"

"I'm researching the market, I might have enough investment to open my own shop soon. I just need to find some brave souls to work with me."

"That's fantastic news! If you go for it give me a call."

"Seriously? I'd love to have you on board as my head of client services."

"You're fucking with me, right?

"Dead serious."

"I'm in."

"So tell me Ingrid, why did you call for this meeting?"

"It's been quite some time since Lars left for Sweden. He filed the divorce papers and the divorce was granted."

"That must be a load off your mind."

"It is, so anyway, I was wondering if you were interested in maybe dating again?"

"Why?"

"I want you to know that I have spent these past months hoping that you could forgive me and want me again. I still love you and if you want to try again, I would be more than willing."

"Why now?"

"The divorce is final. I am free and I need to move on with my life. If I can do that with you then it would be wonderful. If you aren't then I need to move on to find someone else."

"You've already met someone else haven't you?"

"Sometimes you are just downright scary. Yes, I have but I would rather be with you."

"So is this a form of emotional blackmail? Either claim me or lose me?"

"You know what, James, I never even thought of it from that angle. You're right, I can see how you could see it that way. It isn't how I meant it.

You asked me to be transparent. Well, here goes... I am still in love with you. I've never stopped, never wavered. A man in our creative department has befriended me and he has asked me out on a date. I told him that

I was already in a relationship but you were unsure about us moving forward. I told him I would ask you for clarity and I would let him know."

"You see? Was that so hard? That was wonderful, fully transparent except you left out the part where he kissed you in the darkroom."

"He did not!"

"Good, just checking."

"Ingrid, you have never been far from my thoughts and always in my heart. These past months have helped me clear my mind. I know it has been hard for you but we would have crashed and burned without some space between us. Can you see a future with this other guy?"

"If you turn me away then I'll make the best of it. You are always my first choice. Please don't turn me away. It would break my heart."

"What future do you see for us?"

"I would have been happy being with you as a lover but it would be so much better as your wife. Now you're thinking of opening a new agency and hiring me, I think I might have won the trifecta!"

I laughed, how could anyone not fall for this woman?

"Ingrid, my love, I think I like your vision of the possibilities for us. I think we should date again, I want you by my side but let's take it slow and easy."

"I love you, James! What are you doing for the next hour or so?"

"I'm open, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about a room in the Empire Hotel where I can fuck your brains out through your dick."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth? I like your plan!"

We booked a room and we stripped off so fast that if it was being filmed it would have been a blur. We had six months or more of sexual frustration to work off and by God, we didn't spare the horses. It was pedal to the metal till one of us crossed the finish line. I claimed it was my advancing age that slowed me down. She climaxed twice to my once. It was like a ten ton weight had been lifted from us. Second and third times were full of cuddles and real passion, way more bodily fluids were exchanged and far more frequently. Crying 'Uncle' I fell asleep and stayed that way til morning.

When the sun rose we made love again but it was gentle out of necessity. Our sexual bits were quite tender.

"I thought I had lost you, James."

"I'm here. I didn't think it would happen but I'm glad it has."

"What's our next step?"

"Well my plan to take it slow and easy blew up quickly. What would you say to living with me but keeping your apartment."

"As a backup plan you mean?"

"Better safe than sorry."

"Okay, I like the idea, so our being together can be publicly acknowledged?"

"No harm in advertising the fact that we are together as a couple, especially if we are to open our new agency together."

"Our new agency, I love how that sounds."

"Do you have any recommendations for good creative people?"

"Yes, actually, the guy who asked me for a date. He is a creative whiz. I know good creative and he is off the charts."

"Are you comfortable with him working closely with us after breaking his heart?"

"He'll be fine. I told him I was in a relationship."

"Arrange for an interview. I want you there with me."

--------

Jeff Baxter surprised me. I was expecting some whiz kid out of college. Baxter was maybe a year or two younger than me. I could also see why Ingrid would have considered him as a possible lover.

Jeff was about two inches taller than I was. Oddly enough the first feature that stood out was his feet. His brogues were at least a size 15. He looked like he wearing very expensive clown shoes. Jeff was handsome in a rugged he-man kind of way. He wore a beard which made me think of Lars. Maybe I should grow one? She seemed to be attracted to men with facial hair.

Ingrid begged off the meeting. I was grateful because I intended to ask some pointed questions that she might not want asked.

"So, you're currently working for Porter Brothers. I've seen your work and I would be interested in discussing a future with my new agency."

"Ingrid set up this meeting. Of course I would be interested in hearing what you propose."

"First of all, you realize that Ingrid and I are in a serious relationship, right?"

"Yes, she turned down my offer for a date."

"Any hard feelings?"

"I had to take a shot. She talked about you and how she fucked things up. She wasn't sure you would even speak to her again. I had to comfort her."

I didn't like the way he used that phrase.

"What kind of comfort did you offer?"

"Ah, you must be the jealous type. I offered her a shoulder to cry on. It was hard to hold her as she cried and not get excited. I'm sure you know how it is."

"So she took some comfort from your embrace. I suppose I should thank you for that."

"The pleasure was all mine."

He had a way with phrases that pissed me off.

"Why are you looking to leave Porter Brothers?"

"I'm not, Ingrid talked me into this meeting."

"So you're perfectly happy at Porter?"

"Yes, perfectly. I get the feeling that you and I would clash over creative freedom and... other things."

"Well then, I suppose the interview is over."

I almost said 'don't let the door hit you on your way out.' But I held that back like a mature adult.

Ingrid was disappointed that Baxter wouldn't be joining our new firm. I didn't take a great deal of comfort from her disappointment.

"He still feels something for you. He was pretty blatant in describing how he comforted you and how excited he became by holding you close."

"Why would he mention that?"

"To get under my skin. He was letting me know that he was there for you when I wasn't. The he was in a position to take advantage of my absence in your life."

"Men, it's always a fucking pissing contest isn't it?"

"Quite often, there is a lot of caveman lurking just under the surface of most men, present company included."

"But Bax is a great creative guy."

"Jeff Baxter told me he would have had difficulty with my creative control. He knows he'd be on a short leash."

"I'll keep thinking about who would fit the bill."

"Me too."

"I still think Baxter is a fit."

"Of course you do, that's why you recommended him, I'm sure."

Nope, I lied. I knew it was because she had a thing for this guy who asked her out. She loves me, but she's curious about Baxter.

The search for a creative director was not going well. The more I looked the less progress I made.

Jeff Baxter gave me a call.

"Hey James, I just wanted to check in to see how you're making out with the personnel search."

"It's still underway. Do you have any recommendations?"

"What kind of salary are we talking about?"

I told him.

"Not bad. I'm surprised there haven't been any takers."

"I'm not surprised in the least. I'm not the most popular person in the agency business. I've burned too many bridges. Working with and for me would be risky. That is why the salary is as high as it is."

"I don't have anyone to recommend to you but I could be enticing to move from Proctor Brothers."

"What would it take to get you onboard?"

"Ingrid, I want to work with Ingrid."

"Of course you'll be working with Ingrid. She's the head of client services."

"I want to be able to make the presentation to clients with her. We would be a two person team."

"That would be a nice perk, travelling around the country making presentations with Ingrid, just the two of you. Just imagine the post presentation celebrations you'd have."

The phone went silent.

"You're reading too much into this, James. I just admire her work and we have chemistry."

It wasn't so much the chemistry as the biology that concerned me.

"I will give it some consideration. Thanks Jeff."

Time wore on and I was no closer to finding a creative director who wanted to work for me.

Ingrid and I sat down to dinner and we discussed our next steps.

"I'm weighing my options right now and I think I need to fold. I can't start the agency without a great creative director. I still have my current job so I won't be hurting for money. I'm going to stop the search."

"You're willing to give up your dream? Why don't you hire Bax? He told me that he offered to move over from Proctor."

"You two have been talking. I can't hire Jeff, I don't trust him. He has enormous talent but if I can't trust him there is no way I will hire him."

"Why don't you trust him?"

"Multiple reasons."

"Explain."

"He wants to be exclusive partners with you. He pictures the two of you travelling across the country, making presentations and then having celebratory sex afterwards in a hotel."

"He said that?"

"No, he implied that. He had the balls to suggest the working arrangement to my face."

"Sweetheart, there is nothing to worry about. I love you."

"It's not you, it's him. He made a bid for you and you chose me. He wants to correct that. You can assure me all you want, I will not hire the man."

"You are making a mistake."

"This whole pie in the sky idea was a mistake. I'm a pariah in the industry. I have a good position where I am. The agency dream is officially dead. I'm sorry, I know you were excited about it."

"Please reconsider, we can make it work."

"You are welcome to talk to my investors and see if they are willing to back you. Make the agency your project."

"I will, I am going to start tomorrow."

--------

I rarely saw Ingrid for the next month. She was of course working her day job and trying to get things set up with the investors and hire staff and rent offices.

One thing I did hear through the grapevine was that Baxter and Ingrid were working as a presentation team. Well I'll be fucked.

It was late when Ingrid got home and for once I waited up.

"So how did the battle go today?"

"Great! Bax and I went to look at office space today. We signed a lease."

"We? Both of you signed?"

"No, I signed but Bax wanted to see the space to judge lighting for his studio."

"You decided to hire Jeff after I rejected him?"

"Yes, he is the best creative mind out there right now and he will be key to our success."

"You keep saying 'we' and 'our', is it your business or have you now taken on partners?"

"I've been working so hard to get everything put together that I haven't really had time to discuss and explain to you what's happening. I'm sorry, I should have kept you in the loop. Bax has agreed to invest so I will be the majority owner."

"Didn't the investors I gave you come through? Why would you need Baxter as a partner?"

"Because he is the best. Because with his added investment we will have offices downtown with the big agencies."

"If you needed extra investment why didn't you come to me?"

"I thought you said you gave up on the new agency?"

"I gave up trying to start it up under my directorship. I could have helped you with investment if you needed it. I don't like you being tied in with Baxter."

"I'm sorry I misunderstood. I like and respect Bax. I think you have the wrong impression of him."

"So when are you opening? Have you any good clients lined up?"

"Two big ones, an alcohol and a car company. Both are switching their programs over to us because of Bax's influence."

"Well, Bax is the man of the hour I guess."

Yes I was jealous and being petty. I made the right decision to back away from the agency. I was proud of Ingrid for taking control and making this work.

--------

Ad Agency work is brutal, it can dominate your life and Ingrid was fully committed to making her agency successful. The agency was named OlsenBax Advertising.

Ingrid and Jeff made an effective team and the client list grew. Soon she was making a very handsome income.

The downside of all this was I came home to an empty house every day. I missed the daily back and forth with Ingrid. I missed her.

As the president of the agency she had social and business functions to attend and it was only natural that the creative director attended with her.

I suggested that I could come with her to some functions but she reminded me that the name James Newhouse should not be connected in any way with her agency. She was right.

I pestered her to take a week off so we could have a vacation. She eventually gave in and we went on a cruise.

It was great fun and we had a good time, dining, dancing, swimming and reconnecting.

On our final night I suggested we sit out on the deck. There was a beautiful full moon reflecting on the water, very peaceful."

"Ingrid, I know you have been running ragged. I've really enjoyed this week away with you. I know we talked about this before and I think I'm ready. What do you say we get married?"

There was a great pause. Her face was always hard to read as a result of the palsy.

"I longed for you to ask me that question for a long time. I'm so crazy busy with the agency right now. I'm not sure it is a good idea."

"If it is something you longed for then why not?"

"It would be different if you were involved in our business or I wasn't in charge. I just can't spend the time with you that you deserve."

"Would it help if I got involved in the business?"

My question annoyed her.

"You could have launched the business yourself and we woudld be working together if you had only hired Bax."

"Bax was interested in only one thing, or should I say one person, you. I thought that by giving up my dream of launching my agency it would keep him away from you. You not only hired him, you made him a partner. Now you're spending all day with him and most evenings at events, dining, dancing, concerts and such. Bax and you are more connected than you and I. I'm losing you Ingrid. I don't want to lose you. I love you."

"This was your choice. You and I could have been doing this together but you gave up."

"I didn't think you would hire him. He's a predator."

"He is not, he's a sweet man who treats me like a queen. He has the most gifted creative mind in the business and he is building our business, our future."

"Yes, your future together with him, not me."

"What do you want, James?"

"You, plain and simple. I will do anything you want in order to be with you. Please marry me, Ingrid."

"Be reasonable, Bax and I are connected, we're friends and partners. It won't always be this way."

"Yes, it will. It's the nature of the business. It's why I wanted to do this with you. It is drawing you two together emotionally isn't it?"

"A little, but I don't want to lose you."

"Then marry me."

"No, I love living with you but my life is dictated by the agency now. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"You mean spending more time with me will mean less time with Bax."

"I guess that is true but that isn't my motivation."

"If you refuse my proposal it will mean breaking up. Is that understood?"

"Why can't we just keep things as they are now?"

"Because if living together is to mean anything it should lead to a commitment. If we can't commit to each other then it's over."

"Why didn't you propose earlier, before I got wrapped up in the agency?"

"Because I didn't feel like I was losing you. We weren't ready yet. Everything was building towards marriage but we were taking it slow. If I'm to keep you I need a commitment."

"I can't. Thanks to you my life is the agency right now!"

"You still have your apartment, maybe you should move there if you don't want to marry me. I'm sorry, Ingrid. You're the love of my life and I've lost you."

Ingrid moved into her apartment. She fought it all the way but she would not relent on marriage.

I used to love bachelorhood, I used to love the quiet of my home. Now it feels like a tomb.

Depression is a mean disorder. It takes the joy from all the things that used to make you laugh. My work became tedious instead of challenging. My food tasted bland. Music stopped moving me. Even my beloved pipe of tobacco didn't satisfy.

I followed the trade news, OlsenBax was now considered to be one of the top agencies in the country. Ingrid and Baxter were the power couple of the industry. Their faces would show up everywhere. Fashion houses were competing to dress Ingrid in their latest fashions.

The story of our breakup also made the trade news. Some thought I got what I deserved and she dodged a bullet. Others felt that I had been betrayed.

Ingrid was forever seen on Baxter's arm or with his hand around her waist. There were rumours that he had proposed to her. That hurt more than anything.

A week after I read that I got a text from Ingrid.

"James, how are you doing? I have heard nothing from you. I miss seeing you. Can we meet? I have questions that I think only you can answer.

We met in her apartment.

"How sensitive is the question you want to ask me?" I whispered in her ear.

"I don't know whether it is sensitive or not." she whispered back.

"Let's go for a walk."

When we got outside I explained that if she called me I assumed it was agency related.

"You wouldn't have come to me unless it was sensitive and urgent. Outdoors is always better."

"Fine, let's walk then."

I was surprised that she took my hand. It felt intimate, trusting.

"I think I may be in trouble. I think Bax is planning a takeover."

"But you have control of the company. He doesn't own the majority of the shares."

"No, but he has been secretly chatting up some of the investors. He has also proposed marriage, he refuses a prenup protecting my ownership. If he doesn't gain control by marriage he will go around me to the investors. I think he will quit my agency, and steal my investors leaving me with no creative director. I'd be finished."

"I seem to remember telling you Baxter was a predator. He steals you, then he steals your agency. Tell me you haven't agreed to marry him."

"I haven't. He has been pressing very hard. We are seen as a couple and people think we're a couple romantically but we're not, and never were."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, advise me. Help me solve this puzzle."

"Sit here on the bench for a moment."

I reached into my jacket pocket and took out my briar pipe. I filled the bowl, tamped lightly and lit. The heady aroma of the pipe tobacco wafted over our heads. I closed my eyes. I always thought better when I had a pipe lit.

"The simplest thing would be to fire him. As a part owner there would have to be a damn good reason. I'm sure he would sue. If you had evidence of secret negotiations you might have a leg to stand on.

Another would be to buy him out of his share. That would be expensive but it would give you back more control of your agency. He would ask for we a hefty premium.

Another solution would be an act of God, stuck by lightning or something biblical.

You don't have any mob connections? That might be advantageous.

"I might have another idea brewing. But it would depend on a few key factors. First of all, do you still love me?"

"Yes, I miss you terribly."

"You have no intention of marrying Bax?"

"No, never."

"This would be a difficult strategy but possible."

I outlined my plan and she thought it was marginal and likely to fail but it seemed her only hope. We made plans to put it into action.

First off, I spoke. To Peter Proctor of Proctor Brothers Advertising. He was interested in our plan and saw it as a good way of expanding his business.

Next I visited Grantham University's downtown campus to talk to the marketing faculty. I arranged for five interviews with the top students, and selected the best three to meet with Ingrid.

Next was a trip to our corporate lawyers office to draw up our plan in legal language.

At long last we were ready. Ingrid called an executive meeting and we unveiled our plan, Bax's worst nightmare.

Ingrid called the meeting to order.

"Thank you all for coming, I've invited some special guests here today."

"When I set out to start this agency it was at the suggestion of James Newhouse, one of the wisest and sweetest men I've known.

I've worked hard with my investors and active partner Jeff Baxter to make us the success that we are. As of the end of this month I will no longer be the major share holder in the agency. I have agreed to sell my share in the company to Peter Porter of Porter Brothers. Their ownership will begin on the first day of next month."

Bax looked like a ghost but then the colour came back in a vengeance.

"You can't just sell out the company!"

"As the principal share holder it is well within my rights to sell at any time."

"Why, why sell it now? We are making money hand over fist!."

"I have plans to invest my savings and the proceeds of the sale of the agency to open a brand new agency."

The logo came on the screen in the boardroom. "OlsenNewhouse Advertising.

"I am partnering with my dear friend James Newhouse. He may be controversial but he has more guts and feel for this business than anyone I know."

"Who the hell will you hire for creative? I'm the best there is for unique off the wall ideas. This agency was built around me!"

"We have three of the most talented, up and coming creative minds in the country joining us."

"Why do you want back into this stupid industry Newhouse?"

"I see an incredible opportunity lying before us. A chance to revolutionize and refresh the industry. I see the eager young faces that want to prove their ideas work. Most of all I see the privilege of working side by side with my soon to be wife, Ingrid Olsen."

I walked over to Ingrid and knelt by her chair. Ingrid my love, will you accept this diamond engagement ring from a man who absolutely worships you?"

"Of course my love, I love you so much."

We hugged and kissed. Others clapped. The meeting ended with the promise of having lawyers going over the paperwork with a fine tooth comb.

Thanks to a recent court decision that ruled that non-compete clauses were unenforceable we were able to move ahead quickly.

The three recent graduates who were our creative force were dubbed Huey, Dewey and Louie they were keen on making a big splash, so their first work on our business supplies client was outstanding. They broke the conventional model for that category of business and it wowed the industry and the public. We actually won awards for that campaign.

I realized that I really did love this crazy industry, even though she can be be a cruel mistress at times. The only thing that brought me more joy was my wife Ingrid. I was thrilled as all get out when she told me she was pregnant with my child.

Porter Brothers sold their share in Ingrid's former agency to Baxter. He had to overextend himself to finance the takeover. Unfortunately for him he was less savvy about the business side of things. His creative excellence couldn't save his mismanagement of the business. OlsenNewhouse bought out the older business at a fire sale price.

Our plan was complete. Mission accomplished. Game, set and match.

It wasn't all bad news for Baxter though. He got hired by an agency overseas who liked his work and wanted a change in direction.

It had been a challenging few years but Ingrid and I were finally together, doing what we were born to do, embracing the present and going boldly into the future. Writing our love story one chapter at a time.

-30-