“Left it to you?” He looked startled. “Are you going to sell it?”

Samantha shook her head slowly. “I don't think so. That's just it.”

“You're not going to keep it, Sam, are you? What could you possibly do with it?”

“A lot of things.” And then, as she looked at him, she knew her answer. “It's just something I have to do. Maybe I won't be able to do it, maybe it'll be too much for me, maybe it'll be a terrible fiasco, but I just want to give it a try. I want to set it up as a place to teach handicapped kids to ride, teach them how to be independent, to cover ground in something other than a wheelchair-on a horse.” Harvey was looking thoughtfully at her. “You think I'm crazy, don't you?”

He smiled sadly. “No, I was wishing that you were my daughter. Because I would wish you luck, and give you all the money I have and tell you to do it. I wish I could tell you that I think you're crazy, Sam, but I don't. It's a long way from being a creative director on Madison Avenue though. Are you sure that's what you want?”

“The funny thing is that I wasn't sure. Until right now when I told you, but now I know. I am sure.” And then with a small sigh, “What are you going to do about the job? Give it to Charlie?” He thought for a minute and nodded.

“I guess so. He'll do a good job.”

“Are you sure you want to retire, Harvey?” But she had to admit that he looked ready and that she would do the same thing in his place.

He nodded, looking at her. “Yes, Sam, I'm sure. As sure as you are about your ranch, which is to say that I want to retire and it's always a little scary to deal with the unknown. You never know for sure that you're doing the right thing.”

“I guess not.”

“Think Charlie will want the job?”

“He'll be thrilled.”

“Then it's his. Because it has to be like that. You have to want to work fifteen hours a day, take it home on the weekends, louse up your vacations, eat, sleep, and drink commercials. I just don't want that anymore.”

“Neither do I. But Charlie does.”

“Then go tell him he has a new job, or should I?”

“Would you let me do it?” It was the last thing she would do at CHL that would mean something to her.

“Why not? You're his closest friend.” And then he looked at Sam sadly. “How soon are you leaving us?”

“What would be reasonable?”

“Why don't I leave that up to you.”

“First of the year?” It was in five weeks. That was a reasonable notice, and Harvey seemed to think so too.

“We'll retire together then. Maggie and I may even come to visit you on the ranch. My advanced age should be a sufficient handicap for us to qualify as guests.”

“Bull.” She moved her wheelchair around his desk and came over to kiss his cheek. “You'll never be that old, Harvey, not until you're a hundred and three.”

“That happens to be next week.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her. “I'm proud of you, Sam. You're quite a girl.” And then he coughed in embarrassment, fumbled on his desk, and waved her out. “Now go tell Charlie he has a new job.”

Without saying anything further, she left his office and rolled her way down the hall, wearing a broad smile. She stopped in the doorway of Charlie's office, which was in its usual state of chaos, and she barged in on him as he attempted to find his tennis racket under the couch. He had a date to play at lunchtime, and all he could find were the balls.

“What are you looking for, slobbo? I don't know how you find anything in this mess.”

“Huh?” He emerged, but only briefly. “Oh, it's you. I don't. You don't happen to have a spare tennis racket, do you?” Only from Charlie could she take jokes like that.

“Sure. I play twice a week. Ice skating too. And cha-cha lessons.”

“Oh, shut up. You're disgusting. What's the matter? Don't you have any decency, any taste?” He eyed her with mock outrage and she started laughing.

“Speaking of which, you'd better buy some of both, you're going to need them.”

“What?” He looked blank.

“Taste.”

“Why? I've never needed taste before.”

“You were never creative director of a large ad agency before.” He stared at her, not comprehending.

“What are you saying?” His heart pounded for a moment. But it couldn't be. Harvey was offering the job to Samantha… unless… “Sam?”

“You heard me, Mr. Creative Director.” She beamed at him.

“Sam…? Sam!” He jumped to his feet. “Did he-am I-?”

“He did. And you are.”

“But what about you?” He looked shocked. Had they passed her over for the job? If that was the case, he wouldn't take it. They would both quit, they could open up shop together, they could…

She could see his mind racing and held up a hand. “Relax. The job is yours. Me, I'm going to California, Charlie, to run a ranch for handicapped children. And if you're real nice to me, maybe I'll let you and the kids come and visit me in the summers and-” He didn't let her finish. Instead he ran to her and hugged her tight. “Oh, Sam, you did it! You did it! When did you decide?” He was as thrilled for her as he was for himself. He was almost jumping up and down like a kid.

“I don't know.” She was laughing as he held her. “I think just now in Harvey's office… or last night on the plane… or yesterday morning when I talked to Josh… I don't know when it happened, Charlie. But I did it.”

“When are you going out?”

“When you get your new job. On January first.”

“My God, Sam, does he really mean it? Creative director? Me? But I'm only thirty-seven.”

“It's all right,” she reassured him. “You look fifty.”

“Gee, thanks.” He was still beaming as he reached for the phone to call his wife.

33

“So? How's it going? When do you open?” Charlie called her every week, to cry on her shoulder about all the work on his desk and find out about the progress at the ranch.