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He had called her again shortly before lunch and told her of the plans for Saturday and asked her to do some grocery shopping for him. Ian was informed that Billy and the boys had hit it off and had run off somewhere together, so to ease her disappointment Tippy would fill his grocery list, provided she get to help cook and mother the gang.

Ian was actually delighted and suggested Tippy call a few people and just make it a casual “family” event. Provided it didn’t rain, it would be a fun workday that wouldn’t end until all the plans had been confirmed, plotted and ready to be put in place. He even called Susan and Jeremy and invited them to bring the boys, thinking that throwing a couple of major stars into the mix might not only add to Billy’s trip, but help guide the team’s creativity.

It was a brisk lunch of hot tea and something he assumed was on bread that Blake scrounged from the commissary. At one Ian found himself waiting for the arrival of a writer whose scripts he thought where interesting enough to maybe take a chance with. Ian knew first time writer’s were a big risk at this level, but at this stage of the game Ian just had a good feeling about this guy. He wanted to meet with the man and see if they sparked trust and creativity in each other.

Sharply at one, Wella knocked on Ian’s door and let him know that a gentleman was waiting to see him. He told her he’d be right there. Ian slipped his black double-breasted jacket back on, waited a moment, and then strolled casually out into the foyer.

Sitting, trying hard not to look desperate and nervous, was a man in jeans, a Pierre Cardan pullover, and an inexpensive but flattering sport coat. His elbows were on his knees bouncing from the nervous energy escaping through his feet. The man’s head was turned off to the side trying to focus on the hubbub of staff members making phone calls, typing, wheeling and dealing.

Ian walked over, thinking he must look exactly like he did waiting for Kovak that first day at HRT. He cleared his throat and the man looked at him, and seemed a little surprised. Ian extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Ian…”

“Call me Jenson”, and Jenson took his hand in a firm grip and a healthy shake.

“Jenson, it is then. Why don’t we step into my office?” Jenson nodded his head. Ian stopped by Blake’s desk momentarily. “Blake would you mind getting Jenson and I something to drink? I want something sweet and with ice. Jenson?”

“Uh…that sounds good. But nothing diet.”

“Thank God.” Ian agreed. Blake nodded his head, and was off. Quickly, but trying to control the casualness, Ian offered Jenson a comfortable chair near a window with a really great view, and he the chair next to it.

“I apologize for being nervous,” Jenson blabbered a little. “This whole thing just seems to be one surprise after another.”

“Nothing like you expected?”

“Not at all.” He said, “I’ve been trying for some time to get someone to read my stuff. Then to get a call out of the blue from HRT, right down to you, I’m kind of in a fog.”

“Jenson, just relax, this