“You can’t go in looking like that.” Gabe laughed, looking up and down at Lou’s filthy rumpled suit. “And you smell of vomit. And cat urine. Believe me, I know, I’ve a fine nose for it by now.”

“I’ll be okay.” Lou looked at his watch while taking off his suit jacket at the same time. “I’ll grab a quick shower in my office and change into my spare suit.”

“You can’t. I’m wearing it, remember?”

Lou looked down at Gabe then, and remembered how he’d provided him with his spare clothes on that first day. He’d bet Alison didn’t yet know to replace the clothes.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Lou paced the small room, biting his manicured fingernails, pulling and spitting, pulling and spitting.

“Don’t worry, my maid will see to those,” Gabe said with amusement, watching as the chewed bits of nail fell to the cemented floor.

Lou ignored him, pacing some more. “Shops don’t open till nine. Where the hell can I get a suit?”

“Never fear, I think I have something here in my walk-in wardrobe,” Gabe said, disappearing down the first aisle and reappearing with his new suit draped in plastic. “Like I said, you never know when a new suit will come in handy. And it’s your size, fancy that. It’s almost like it was made for you.” He winked. “May your outer dignity mirror an inner dignity of your soul,” he said, handing the suit over.

“Eh, yeah, sure. Thanks,” Lou said uncertainly, quickly taking it from Gabe’s outstretched hands.

In the empty staff elevator, Lou looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was unrecognizable from the man who’d woken up on the floor half an hour earlier. The suit that Gabe had given him, despite being from an unknown designer, was surprisingly a perfect fit. The blue of the shirt and tie against the navy jacket and trousers made Lou’s eyes pop, innocent and cherub-like.

Things were looking very good for Lou Suffern so far that day. He was back to his groomed, handsome best, his shoes polished to perfection by Gabe. The swing was back in his step, his left hand casually placed in his pocket, his right arm swinging loosely by his side and available to answer the phone and/or shake a hand at every possible moment. He was the man of the moment. And after a phone call home, he was also father of the year, according to Lucy.

While he whistled down the halls on the fourteenth floor, Melissa, Mr. Patterson’s assistant, chased after him.

“Lou!” she called.

He stopped, swiveled around. “Melissa. Good morning.”

“Mr. Patterson wants a brief word with you before the meeting.”

Lou froze. “About what?”

“If I was a mind reader, Lou, I would not have gone on that date last night, and I most certainly would not have gone in for that nightcap. Now, quick.” She turned on her very high, red-soled heels and ran back down the hall.

Lou composed himself, cleared his throat, and went over to rap on Mr. Patterson’s office door.

“Lou.” Mr. Patterson looked up from his papers. “I know we have a meeting in a few minutes, but I wanted to have a word before we go in. I just got off the phone with Anthea.”

Cliff’s wife. “Yes.” Lou’s heart thudded in his chest.

“Unfortunately, he won’t be coming back.”

Lou fought the urge to yelp in celebration.

“Oh. I see.”

“So we’ve some decisions to make around here,” Mr. Patterson said; then he looked over Lou’s shoulder and nodded at Melissa standing in the doorway. “I’ve got a quick call to make, Lou. I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll be at the party tomorrow night; we can talk more then.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be here.”

Lou was happy. So happy, in fact, that he started whistling and didn’t stop even when he reached his office, where Alison delivered the news that his sister was on the line. He happily picked up the phone and propped himself on the corner of Alison’s desk.

“Marcia, good morning,” he said cheerily.

“Well, you’re in a good mood today. I know you’re busy, Lou, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that we all got Dad’s birthday invitations. They were…very nice…very sophisticated…not what I would have chosen but…anyway, I’ve had a few people on the phone to say they haven’t received theirs yet.”

“Oh, they must have gotten lost in the mail,” Lou said, “we’ll send theirs again.”

“But it’s tomorrow, Lou.”

“What?” He frowned and squinted his eyes to concentrate on the calendar on Alison’s desk.

“Yes, his birthday’s tomorrow,” she said, sounding slightly panicked. “They won’t get the invites if you send them out now. I just wanted to make sure that it would be okay for everyone just to turn up without an invite. It’s only a family party, anyway. We could have a guest list or something.”

“Tomorrow,” Lou’s mind was working overtime. He knew he had double-booked tomorrow night, but now the office party wasn’t just a party. It was a meeting with Mr. Patterson. “Things have changed, Marcia. Tomorrow is my office party, and I really have to—”

“You missed dinner the other night, Lou. Daddy was hurt enough at that. If you miss his seventieth…” She went silent.

“Okay, fine.” He rubbed his eyes, feeling his adrenaline shoot up again. “I’ll be there.”

“Yes, you will. I might just bring a few things to—”

“It’s all under control,” he said, interrupting her firmly.

“What have you got planned, Lou?” Marcia asked nervously.

“What have I got planned?” Lou faked a laugh. “Oh, well, come on, Marcia, we want it to be a surprise for everyone.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“Do I know what’s happening? Are you worried about my organizational skills?”

“I’m worried that you’ve repeated every single one of my questions just to give yourself more time to think,” she said.

“Of course I know what’s going on; you think I’d just leave it up to Alison to do alone?” He winked at Alison, who looked horrified. “She’s never even met Dad,” he said, speaking Marcia’s insecurities aloud.

“Exactly, Lou. This Alison seems like a nice girl, but she doesn’t really know Dad. I’ve been calling her to help, but she hasn’t been very forthcoming. I just want Dad to have the time of his life.”

“He will, Marcia; he will.” Lou’s stomach turned uneasily. “We’ll all have fun, I promise.”

HE HANDED THE PHONE BACK to Alison, his smile gone. “It’s all under control, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The party,” he said firmly. “My dad’s party.”

“Lou, I’ve been trying to ask you questions about it all we—”

“Is it all under control? Because if it’s not, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Alison smiled nervously. “The place you picked is very, erm, cool, shall we say, and they have their own events-management team. I told you about this already,” she said quickly, “a few times this week. I’d also left some food and music options on your desk, but when you didn’t choose any, I had to decide then myse—”

“Okay, Alison, a note for the future: when I ask if it’s all under control, I only want a yes or a no,” he said firmly. “I don’t have time for questions and memos, really; all I need to know is if you can do it or not. If you can’t, then that’s fine, but I need to know. Okay?”

She nodded quickly.

“Great.” He clapped his hands and hopped off the desk. “Now I’d better get to this meeting.”

“Here.” She handed him his files. “And congratulations on those two deals yesterday; everyone is talking about them.”

“They are?”

“Yes,” she said, wide-eyed. “Some people are saying you’ll get Cliff’s job.”

That was like music to Lou’s ears, but he played it down. “Now, Alison, let’s not jump the gun. We’re all wishing a speedy recovery for Cliff.”

“Of course we are, but…anyway”—she smiled—“we can talk more at the party tomorrow?”

“Of course we will.” He smiled back, and it was only as she threw him a loaded look that he really understood what she had meant. He hated himself for the flutter of excitement that rushed through him.