Kate tried to look relaxed. She’d dressed carefully for today in a plain black wool gabardine suit, with a white blouse and a silk paisley tie tamed into a floppy bow at her throat. She hoped it was a look that said professional through and through. “In my years in TV news I’ve learned a few things about myself and a few things about the world. The news, as you know, is go-go-go. We’re always moving at top speed, just getting the facts and then moving on. I often find myself more interested in what comes after the story than the story itself. I’m better, I believe, at long-range thinking and planning. Details, rather than broad strokes. And I’m a good writer. I’d like to learn more about that, but I won’t do it in ten-second sound bites.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have.”

The woman across the desk leaned back, studying Kate through a pair of trendy, bead-encrusted glasses. She seemed to like what she saw. “Okay, Ms. Mularkey. I’ll discuss this with my partners and we’ll get back to you. Just so I know, when could you start work?”

“I’d need to give two-weeks notice and then I’d be ready to go.”

“Excellent.” The woman stood. “Do you need a parking voucher?”

“No, thank you.” Kate shook the woman’s hand firmly and left the office.

Outside, Pioneer Square huddled beneath a stern charcoal-hued sky. Cars clogged the narrow, old-fashioned streets, but very few pedestrians walked past the brick-faced buildings. Even the homeless people who usually slept on these park benches and bummed smokes and money from passersby were somewhere else on this cold afternoon.

Kate walked briskly along First Avenue, buttoning up her old college coat as she went. She caught the uptown bus and got off at the stop in front of the office at exactly 3:57.

Surprisingly, the main office room was empty. Kate hung up her coat and tossed her purse and briefcase under her desk, then went around the corner to Johnny’s office. “I’m back.”

He was on the phone, but he motioned for her to come in. “Come on,” he was saying in an exasperated voice, “how am I supposed to help you with that?” He was silent for a moment, frowning. Then, “Fine. But you owe me one.” He hung up the phone and smiled at Kate, but it wasn’t the old smile, the one that had taken her breath away. She hadn’t seen that one since the night with Tully.

“You’re wearing a suit,” he said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Around here, that means only two things, and since I know you aren’t anchoring the news . . .”

“Mogelgaard and Associates.”

“The ad agency? What position did you apply for?”

“Account executive.”

“You’d be good at that.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have the job yet.”

“You will.”