Brooke sat behind her desk at Tempo. She twisted a pencil around with her fingers, staring blankly forward, supporting her head with her left hand.

"Hello? Brooke?" Edmund said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Did you hear a word of what I just said?"

"What?" Brooke asked, running her fingers back through her hair. Edmund raised his eyebrows, sitting on the edge of her desk. "I'm sorry, Edmund. My head just isn't in this today."

"You've been like this for days," he said. "Distant, disconnected."

"I have a lot going on right now. My mind is all over the place," she said and then paused. "I'm all ears. What were you saying?"

Edmund stood. "It's beginning to look better and better about this award. The piece we did on Proteus..." Brooke felt herself grow sick to her stomach at the mention of the award. "Are you alright, Brooke?" Edmund asked. "I've never seen that shade of green before." Brooke rubbed her eyes. "Can we do this some other time?" she asked.

"We've been putting this off for..."

"Please... Edmund."

Edmund put his hands down on the desk, leaning towards her. "What's going on with you?" he asked.

"It's a personal matter," Brooke said. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, it must be hitting you pretty hard for it to be affecting your work," he said. "Brooke, I know you. You leave your problems at home, you never brought them to work."

"Yeah, well I guess this is different," she said.

"How so?" Edmund asked her.

Brooke let out a deep breath. "What part of 'I don't want to talk about it' don't you understand?"

Edmund sat back down on the edge of her desk. "The 'don't'," he said.

Brooke couldn't help but crack a smile as she shook her head. "Really, Edmund," she said. "I just really don't want..."

"You don't want to talk about it," he said. "OK." Brooke looked down at a stack of papers on her desk. "I'll tell you what," Edmund continued. "I'll buy you lunch."

"Edmund, there's a lot of stuff..."

"You need a break," he said. "I won't take no for an answer." He paused. "Just to get out of the office for a while."

Brooke took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "OK," she said. "I'll let you buy me lunch." Brooke stood. "Where to?"

"BJ's sound good?" Edmund asked.

"Sounds good to me."



The doorbell rang at 646 Holland Avenue. It rang more than once before the pounding began. "Tad!" Liza called. "Tad Martin! You'd better be dead in there, or I swear to God, I'll kill you myself." Liza continued pounding on the door. "Tad! Open this door!" She paused. "Don't make me break in, you know I will." Liza stepped back as the door swung open. Tad stood in the doorway, looking somewhat ragged and unshaven. "You look like hell," she said.

"That means a lot coming from you," Tad said as he moved aside and Liza entered.

"Have you turned your phone off or something?" Liza asked.

"I saw Leo on television yesterday," Tad said, sitting back down on the sofa. "You were right about him. He has a real TV presence." He paused as Liza sat down beside him. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, Liza," he said. "Why did you come here?"

"To find out why you haven't shown up for work in days," Liza said. "Your phone's off the hook, you haven't returned any of my messages I left on your cell..." she paused. "What the hell happened?"

Tad shook his head, running his hands over the stubs of hair on his face. "I'm going for a new look," Tad said. "You don't like it?" Liza was silent. She had a disapproving look on her face. "I don't think I've ever felt like this before," he admitted.

"What happened?" Tad didn't answer. "You can tell me, tad. I'm the last person who would judge you." Tad still didn't answer her. "OK, don't tell me," Liza looked at him dead on. "Who was it?" she asked after a moment.

"Excuse me?" Tad said.

"The expression on your face. It's a cross between guilt and lost bliss," she said. "So who'd you sleep with?"

Tad stood. "Geez, Liza. Don't be shy about it. Just come right out and ask."

"So..."

"So... I really don't think that's any of your business," he paused. "Besides... I messed the whole thing up." Liza leaned forward, listening intently. Tad could see in her eyes that she was honestly concerned. "I thought I was OK with it..." he continued. "I was... OK with it. But then she asked me about Dixie. What if she really isn't gone... what if she came back... would I go back to her... to Dixie?"

"Well what did you say?"

"That's just it. I didn't say a thing. Not a word." He paused. "I think I screwed up what could have been a good thing."

"It hasn't been a very long time," Liza said. "Maybe you're not ready to move on in love." Liza stood and walked up to him. "You're still so... stricken with grief, having lost the one person who meant more to you than life. Maybe you just can't move on."

"What are you a shrink now, Liza?" Tad asked.

"Maybe you do need somebody to talk to."

"Oh, no," Tad said. "No, no. I don't need a shrink."

"She's not a shrink," Liza said, grabbing a piece of paper out of her purse and writing down the name and number. "Well, she is, but... you'll see for yourself." Liza handed Tad the paper. "I speak from personal experience, Tad. She's helping me and Adam put our marriage back together."

"If she can do that..." Tad said softly. Liza smacked him in the arm. "Oww. Alright, I'll call her. What have I got to lose?"