NINE By the time I reached the parking garage, a winter dusk had settled over the chill air. The garage was in shadows. On my way to my car I heard my name called out cheerfully. Ahead of me in the gloom, I saw Tommy Byrnes wave and walk toward me. My stomach did unpleasant things. We hadn't really talked since our conversation in my office. I was going to have to be very nice and very apologetic and at the moment the prospect of being either wearied me. Tommy came toward me like a shy animal. "Hi," he said. I nodded. Decided to get it over with quickly. "Sorry about yesterday, Tommy. I'm not in the best frame of mind. You know how that goes-little things, insignificant things, irritate me. I want you to know I think you're doing a good job." "Thanks," he said. Obviously he was half afraid to speak, afraid he'd make me angry again. We walked to our cars in tense silence. "I really do want to be in advertising," he said finally.
