New York City, New York

June 9th, 1964 - 8:34AM

Sunshine poured through the front windows of Kaye's apartment, leaving elongated squares of light on the floorboards. The radio was turned on, tuned to a slow jazz station out of the Bronx. Coffee filled a white mug on the table in the breakfast nook, and a newspaper was sprawled out beside it, turned to the classifieds. Kaye was wearing a burgundy satin robe, snugged to her figure by a wide satin cinture. Smoke curled through the sunrays, rising from a lone cigarette, snugged into an ashtray beside the paper. She adjusted her glasses and sipped the coffee. It burned her tongue, so she sloshed it around in her mouth.

The telephone rang.

Kaye looked over to it, hanging off the wall at the corner of the nook. She furrowed her brow, and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

It rang again.

She stood from the chair, and pulled the receiver from the chuck.

"Hello?"

"Kaye? It's Stan." He spoke quickly.

"I worked late yesterday. Tell Draper I'll come in at 9:30."

"You need to come in, now. Kirk Lorrie stormed through the doors ten minutes ago. Roger called a partners meeting."

The all-too-familiar sensation of an adrenaline spike stung her extremities.

"Hello?" Stan said.

She hung up the receiver onto the receptacle, and stood motionless.


"Trudy, I don't have time right now."

Pete Campbell was speaking into the receiver of the telephone on his desk. He pressed his hand against the table, tapping his fingers.

"Yes, that's fine. Tammy will be fine. A fever isn't cause to go into the hospital. Listen, I'm very busy here at work. If she still has it when I get home, we'll take her in, okay?... Okay. I love you. Goodbye."

He hung up.

"Kid dying at home?" Harry Crane said, sticking his head into Pete's office.

"If it was up to Trudy, we'd go into emergency when Tammy scraped her legs." He smiled.

"I remember going through it with Jennifer when Beatrice was younger. Listen I need a favour…"

Clara pushed into the room beside Harry.

"Mr. Campbell, something is happening."

"Something's always happening Clara, what is happening?" Pete snipped.

"I don't know. There's a ruckus at reception. Someone's pushing in, demanding to talk with you, or Roger, or something."

"How helpful. Can it wait, Harry?"

"I'll come back." Harry left the doorway and began down the hall.

Clara held the door open for Pete as he stood and made his way into the corridor. There was a loud booming voice echoing from the front hall. Pete spun and walked passed the Creative Room. Peggy had her head stuck out the opening and was watching alongside Stan.

"... If you don't bring me Pete, or Roger, this instant, someone is going to lose their job!" The male voice screamed. He was yelling at Joan. Another secretary was standing by, cupping her face and crying.

"There is no need to raise your voice, Mr. Lorrie." Joan said cleanly. "Mr. Sterling, or Mr. Campbell, will be here momentarily."

"Kirk, what's happening?" Pete began.

"You know damn well what's happening, Campbell. Don't play the idiot."

"Lower your tone." Pete instructed. He stopped a few feet short of the confrontation. "Joan, you can go back to your office. Thank you for handling this."

Joan turned away, and began comforting the weeping woman nearby.

"You got some nerve, you know that? I've seen some brazenly stupid things in my time, but this just about tops everything." He snapped.

"Follow me to my office," Pete paused. "Joan, could you get Roger, bring him to my office."

"Don't bother." Kirk said. "We'll go see him ourselves!" He smiled. Kirk pushed passed Pete and made his way down the hall towards Roger's office.

Caroline was on the phone when Kirk and Pete approached.

"Is he available?" Pete said.

"He's just meeting with Mr. Drap…"

Without allowing a full answer, Kirk swung open the door into Roger's corner office. Don and Roger were seated on opposite sides of his desk. They each had a cigarette in their hands.

"Kirk!" Roger said. "We were just talking about you."

Pete shut the door behind them.

"It's funny, yesterday morning, I get to work…" Kirk began pacing as he told his story, "And I pick up the phone to give Phil over at Consolidated a call. I was going to recommend we revisit the pitch, maybe tweak some things. But oh, what's this I hear from him? He's already been here! And he's seen the work, and apparently everyone loves it, but silly me didn't know whether he could sign or not. How nice of Phil to come in and just save the day!"

"And we apologize heavily for that indiscretion." Pete replied instinctively. "None of us knew what was happening. We came back from the pitch into the office, and Phil was already on his way."

"Well how the hell did that happen?" Kirk demanded. "Who called him?"

Roger turned to Don. He said nothing.

"Our Assistant Creative Director made the call." Roger spoke, without looking away from Don. "She overstepped, and misread the situation. Pete spoke with her. She's young, and stupid. She knows never to do that again."

Kirk relaxed suddenly. His shoulder dropped, and the redness in his face slowly disappeared.

"It was Kaye." He said, slowly. "I see."

"Does that change something?" Roger asked.

"Decidedly so." Kirk replied. "Call a partners meeting immediately."

"This is an internal client issue." Pete broke. "There's no need to involve the whole company."

"There is when a drop of strychnine poison's the well, my boy."

"We're not going to call a meeting." Don said, standing up and buttoning his blue suit. "What's done is done. We apologized, it was an oversight. What more is there to say?"

"I think you all deserve to know what occurred the night of our foray at the 22 Club. I was going to let it all go, bygones be bygones. But in light of these events, I think it should be known."

"Just tell us, we can rectify whatever it was." Pete said.

"Call the meeting. I can wait here. If for some reason the meeting can't happen, I have a nice luncheon set with Lee Garner Jr. after this." Kirk faced Roger. "I think he'd agree with me regarding these circumstances, wouldn't you?"

Roger said nothing.

"Call the meeting." Pete said. "Get her in here now." He spat at Don.

Pete whipped the door open and stomped back to his office.

"I'll let Bert and Lane know. Tell Kaye and Joan." Roger said.

Don left Roger's office, walking directly to the Creative Room.

Peggy and Stan were seated at the centre table talking.

"Where's Kaye?" Don said.

"She's not in yet." Peggy said. "Big surprise."

"Call her. She needs to come in now. Emergency partners meeting." Don turned and left the office.

"Shit." Stan stood up, pulling a cigarette out of its carton and lighting it. "Shit."

"What? What's going on?" Peggy asked.

Stan spun around and walked over to Lane's secretary, putting her phone to his ear.

"What are you doing?" She asked. Stan didn't answer. He spun the rotary dial a few times and waited.

"Kaye? It's Stan." He said. "You need to come in, now…"


Kaye was standing in the elevator at 1271 Avenue of the Americas. She and an older man shared the trip up to the mid-30s. Her face was pale, palms sweating. A cigarette hung from her lower lip. The smoke slowly curled around her nostrils. She stared blankly at the large wood-clad doors. The floor number scrolled up. Break it to Me Gently was playing over the elevator speakers. The flask in her clutch was empty.

The doors opened. She stepped out into the hall.

"Have a good day." The older man behind her said. Kaye walked out onto the floor, and moved towards the lobby. She thrust open both entrance sets of doors.

"Good morning, Miss Sharpe." Megan, the front secretary managed; Kaye moved passed her. Joan was standing in the main corridor, speaking with Stan. They both turned when they saw her. Joan broke away and approached.

"They're waiting for you in the Conference Room. I'll be taking notes. Breathe, hear them out."

Kaye marched forward down the hall, Joan in tow. Neither she nor Stan said anything to each other as she went by.

All of the blinds were open in the Conference Room. Pete, Roger, Bert and Kirk were seated around the table. Don was standing; Lane leaned against the back hutch. They all watched Kaye intently as the doors swung open. Joan took her place at the head of the table, and a seat sat open for Kaye beside her.

"The meeting can begin." Joan said. "All parties are present."

"Good." Kirk began. "I'm here to demand the resignation of Kaye Sharpe as Assistant Creative Director of this firm."

"What?" Bert said.

"I will explain myself. Two weeks ago, I entertained an outing with some of you in this room to the 22 Club. I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I would say we all did, including my subordinates. They were won over by the charisma and charm of this firm. I was taken too." Kirk stood up from his chair and placed his hands into his jacket pockets. "I had a few too many drinks that evening, and made my way to the washroom at one point, where I was followed by Miss Sharpe. Upon my entrance to the washroom, she stopped me, in what I believe to be a firm bid to seduce me. I have to say, in the dim lights and being inebriated, I contemplated the offer..."

"You fucking liar." Kaye shot up from her seat, wagging her ringed index finger at him.

"Miss Sharpe." Lane said. "Contain yourself. There will be time for rebuttal."

"Anyway," Kirk continued. "After I declined her advances, and we had exited the washroom, she attempted to strongarm me into agreeing to signing Muriel right then and there. She used that other Creative boy, Stan, I think his name is, to leverage the optics into some sort of sordid trade deal…"

"He's lying!" Kaye shouted.

"Miss Sharpe!" Lane snapped loudly, leaning off the hutch and bending over the conference table. "If you cannot control your outbursts, you will be ejected from this meeting. Mr. Lorrie will have to conclude his statements with no chance for rebuttal. Do you understand?"

Kaye smoked, sitting back down into the black leather chair.

"Yes." She said, unclenching her fists and jaw.

"Continue, Mr. Lorrie." Lane said.

"I knew at that moment that things were soured between us." Kirk said. "I couldn't ever partake in a deal with a firm that would stoop to such lows. I had believed it was possible, but now it was plain to see that even in the tobacco business, this is a reality. After I turned them down, Miss Sharpe attempted to blackmail me into signing the deal after our meeting on Tuesday. She would air a false adulterous narrative to my family, company, and friends. I was aghast; shocked that she would be so brazen."

Kaye's grip tightened on the armrests of her chair. Her vision narrowed; she began breathing in short successive bursts.

"I told my wife about the attempted strongarming and seduction. She said she would stand beside me through everything, and counselled me that I should never join your firm, as long as Miss Sharpe remained employed for Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. I suppose you never know what snakes lie in the grass."

There was a pause.

"Is that all?" Bert said.

"Is that all? Is this a common occurrence at this firm? I suppose I would not be surprised…"

"I meant, is that the end of your accusation?"

"Oh." Lorrie paused. "Yes. And now you understand my reasoning behind this questionable demand for a meeting. I would be willing to overlook this transgression, and let bygones be bygones, as long as Miss Sharpe is terminated."

"Miss Sharpe." Bert said. "Is any of what Mr. Lorrie said true?"

"No." Kaye said quietly.

"So, you did not try to blackmail me into signing a contract while at the Club?" Kirk asked.

"Well no, I… he's got the whole story backwards." She responded.

Silence.

"Miss Sharpe, answer the question. Did you attempt to blackmail Mr. Lorrie into signing a contract with us, yes or no?" Bert said.

Kaye paused.

"Yes."

Lane sighed audibly, rolling his eyes.

"He's lying about everything else." She stood up from her chair. "He abused me. And tried to take my dignity from me. Stan came and found us before… before he could. I tried to use it against this horrible disgusting pig. I have the bruises and scars to prove it."

"That's untrue." Kirk said. "Stan, I'm sure, would do anything to protect his superior. It was apparent by his complicitness in Kaye's attempts to blackmail me."

Bert said, "Is there any evidence that could corroborate your story, Miss Sharpe?"

"What more evidence would satisfy?" She said. "Peggy overheard our conversation on the P.A system last Tuesday."

"We need to get rid of that thing." Pete muttered.

"She heard him making threats towards me."

"What threats?" Kirk said, smiling. "I simply reiterated to you what occurred at the Club and what my actions and response would be. How would we know this witness wasn't conjured up in order to save your position?"

"How many witnesses would satisfy!" Kaye yelled. "Would the entire firm have to watch you fuck me to believe me?"

"Your vocabulary, Miss Sharpe. Tame it." Lane said. "This is still a business meeting. Although, I am inclined to ask a similar question, Mr. Lorrie. One witness might be conjured. Two is an unlikely circumstance."

"I don't much care if you don't believe me." Kirk said. "It's what happened. Frankly, I wondered if perhaps you'd put her up to it. Paid her to whore herself out to me."

Kaye lunged at Kirk from her seat. Her cigarette fell to the carpet as she reached out to grab him.

Don jumped after Kaye and quickly restrained her arms. She used her feet, and jumped up, trying to kick him. Don overpowered her and dragged her back.

"Let me go!" She shouted, thrashing about in Don's arms. He pulled her further from Kirk, who was grinning.

"Get her out of here!" Pete yelled.

Don opened the Conference Room door, and dragger her out. He put Kaye down in the small gathering area.

"My office. Wait for me. Now." He said, pointing. She walked slowly backwards from him, and then turned, walking into his office. Many of the secretaries were watching. "Back to work." Don said loudly, entering the Conference Room once again.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Pete said.

"It's fine." Kirk said. "Some people have no control over their emotions. You see why I'm demanding her position."

"She's on contract." Bert said. "Although with this display, it may qualify for dismissal."

"Coarse words exchanged don't constitute dismissal." Don said.

"Are you siding with her?" Bert asked.

"Don, don't be stupid. She's clearly unfit for employment." Pete said.

Don lit a cigarette.

"What constitutes dismissal?" He smoked.

"Physical engagements, bribery, embezzlement, a small host of other things." Joan said. "Although, I'm unsure how clear our terms are on the contract. We'll have to revise it."

"Then we'll do that, and if it's possible, we can let her go." Bert assured Kirk. "Does this resolve your conflict, Mr. Lorrie?"

"I want to be absolutely sure she's fired."

"We can't be sure," Lane interrupted. "Because this immediate matter must involve the aforementioned items."

"Prostitution and bribery surely constitutes a breach of contract." Kirk said.

"That's hearsay." Roger said.

"Who's side are you on?" Pete barked, staring at Roger. "Is there something going on I'm not aware of?" He looked at the whole room.

"We'll let you know the results of this… inquest." Lane started, facing Lorrie. "If there is grounds for dismissal, we will consider them."

"She's not going." Don said. "We'll reprimand her. She'll be completely removed from any future dealings with Muriel or Consolidated. You won't see her again."

"Did we all not witness the same event?" Bert said. "Surely her outburst is an offense."

Kirk snapped, "She is gone, do you hear me? Gone! She tried to ring me out, she blackmailed me, it's impossible that her employment continues here."

"We can break the contract," Pete said. "It would just cost us the term of the contract."

"Are you gonna pay her $60,000 to walk out that door?" Roger said. "Because that's what we'd owe her."

"She makes over twenty a year?" Pete said. "Who authorized that?"

"Pan Am. Are we done here?" Roger said.

"No! We are most certainly not done." Kirk screamed. "Am I in the Twilight Zone? Am I not making myself clear? I'm not leaving until I have assurances I will never see her employed here again."

"We cannot guarantee that assurance, Mr. Lorrie." Lane spoke calmly. "We must go through the contract. I'll look after it personally, taking into account all the events of today. Is this an amenable solution?"

"Pay her out. I don't care. Just make it happen." He spat.

"With all due respect, you don't have the right to make that call," Lane turned to face the group. "We will make the decision as a board after reviewing all of the evidence."

"Look, you either pay her out and she's gone, or I'll tip Lee Garner that he should pull the plug on this whole operation. I'll tell him everything that's happened. No matter how much love old Senior had for Roger, it won't stand up. Lucky Strike will walk."

"We don't need Lucky Strike." Roger said, lighting a cigarette.

Kirk laughed, "And a bear doesn't shit in the woods."

Roger stared at Lane. Silence. Joan took a break from typing.

"Indulge me a moment. If we don't fire Miss Sharpe based on your hearsay accusations and her conduct today, you will go to Lee Garner Jr., and implore him to terminate his contract with us. Is that correct?" Bert said.

"Yes, old man. Are we clear? This is the bill that's coming due. Bring her back in here, and dismiss her."

No one made movements.

"I guess I'm going to my luncheon with Lee now." Kirk turned around and began walking for the door. Roger leaped up.

"Wait." Lane said, clutching his hand tightly. "Don. Go get her."

Don stood, observing Kirk. The man returned back to his post at the side of the table.

"We're not going to do this." Don said.

"Go get her." Lane repeated quietly, his gaze averted downward.

Don's face changed instantly. His brows dropped, the creased wrinkles from his emotion disappeared. He walked out of the Conference Room, across the hall, and into his office. Kaye was leaning against the wall heaters, a bottle of whiskey was hanging from her hand.

"They want you to come back in." He said after closing the door.

Kaye brought the bottle to her lips and drank more.

"Why." She asked.

"They're going to offer you a severance package." Don took a step towards her. "They'll pay out your contract."

"I don't want the money." She mumbled. "I want the job."

"I know."

Tears were streaming down her face. Bourbon reeked on her breath. She hiccupped, bringing the bottle once again to her lips. Don stood behind her, pressing his chest into her back. He grabbed the bottle from her hand as she removed it from her mouth. He placed it back on the drinks cart and took Kaye in his extended arms, turning her around.

"You can do this." He said. "This isn't the end, this is the hard part."

Kaye collapsed into his shirt, bawling. She reached around him and scrunched his suit in her palms. Don raised his arms, and placed them around her slowly. The crying abated after a few minutes and he let go. He took his thumbs and wiped the pouring mascara from her face, cleaning up her cheeks.

"Don't give him anything, you understand? Don't react. Don't look at him. Don't give him the satisfaction. Take whatever they have to give you, smile, and leave."

Kaye nodded, snorting. She unfurled her skirt, fixed her blouse and hair, and followed Don out of his office as he held the door open for her. She made her way across the back connecting corridor towards the Conference Room. Everyone watched as she approached, Don behind her.

The doors swung open. Pete was speaking but held his breath.

"Miss Sharpe..." Lane paused. "Normally, there would be a formal process proceeding this meeting, and Ms. Harris would meet with you to discuss this. However, due to your recent behaviour, and in light of the allegations brought forth by Mr. Lorrie in this recent matter, we have decided to sever your contract with Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce."

Joan's face was red, and she was visibly flustered. Kaye said nothing.

"Effective immediately." Kirk spoke.

"We cannot legally fire her immediately unless we have immediate proof, according to the Labour Relations Act." Joan spoke up.

"Why the hell didn't you say this earlier?" Pete demanded.

"We're already making concessions for Mr. Lorrie." Joan said, not taking the time to look at Pete. "This is one that transgresses the law itself, and leaves us liable for a lawsuit of wrongful dismissal."

"Unbelievable." Kirk said. "Fine, for gods sake. She has two weeks, or whatever the absolute minimum mandatory period is. But then she's gone. I will never see her employed here again. And I will check up on it."

"Miss Sharpe, in light of this, you will thus remain employed for Sterling Cooper, until…" Lane checked his watch. "The evening of June the 24th. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She said flatly.

"Good. You're dismissed. Pete, please show Mr. Lorrie from the premises." Lane said.

Kaye left the Conference Room, and walked directly to her office. Pete stood from his chair, and opened the door for Kirk, leading him down the corridor towards the entrance doors and the lobby.

"What a mess." Roger said, smoking.

"Ms. Harris, would you please prepare the severance package for Miss Sharpe. We'll sign them, and I'll deal with the financials."

"Alright." Joan said. "Are there any other points of discussion?"

No one spoke.

"The meeting is adjourned."

"Good, can I go back to my office now?" Bert stood up. "I missed my mid-morning meditation."

"Relieved of duty," Roger swung his hand. Bert waddled out of the room.

"Why was I not informed about this?" Lane turned to Don.

"I barely knew about it." Don replied.

"Is it true?" Lane said. "The accusations against Lorrie on behalf of Miss Sharpe."

"I believe so."

"Good god." Lane leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses and placing them on the table.

"We are so top-heavy that any blight against us puts us in such a precarious position that we cannot even defend our own. We stand at 63% of our annual billings flowing in from Lucky Strike and Pan Am. If even one of these were to depart, we would be dangerously close to folding. I suggest that for a time following this California venture, we focus on acquiring smaller clients, keeping the billings around two to three million a year. We build up a stock of them, and then we can go back to whale hunting."

"I'll talk with Lee Garner Jr. Take him out for a night on the town. Smooth this all over." Roger said.

"Joan, can I speak with you? My office." Don said.

"Yes." Joan replied, standing and following Don as he walked across the hall once again and into his office. Roger and Lane stayed behind.

Don walked up to the drinks cart and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Can anything be done?" He sat into his desk chair, placing the whiskey down.

"As I mentioned in the meeting, her behaviour today doesn't constitute a breach of contract directly. However, Mr. Lorrie's story is more than grounds for dismissal."

"How long have you been aware of these… events?"

"Shortly after they occurred."

"And no one thought to say anything?"

"What could be said?" Joan began. "It was his word against hers. He has the upperhand; the power, and the finances. She was foolish to go after him. I suppose it comes with the territory of her youth."

"I told her to let this one go. She did this to herself." Don drank. "Once this is done, I never want to see him again. Get Muriel Cigars off the docket as soon as we can. He'll keep coming after us."

Joan stood from the orange chair, "Will that be all, Mr. Draper?"

"Go check on Kaye." Don finished the last of his whiskey.

"Of course."

She closed the office door on her way out. Allison immediately leaned over.

"What happened?" She asked, enthusiastically.

"Mind your business." Joan snapped. "Don't waste time today at the kitchenette."

Allison's face fell, and she returned to clacking down on the typewriter. Joan walked around the far corridor, passed Roger's office, and up to Kaye's. Donna was seated at her desk.

"Is she available?" Joan asked.

"I believe so." Donna picked up the phone and pressed the intercom. "Ms. Harris here to see you."

There was no response.

"Miss Sharpe, Ms. Harris is here to see you. Are you there?"

No response.

"I'll just go in and check on her." Joan said, pushing passed the secretary's desk and opening the office door. It was empty, and everything was in order and clean.

"Donna, she's not here." Joan said, returning from the room.

"News to me. She could have gone out the door on the other side of the kitchenette. She always tells me when she's going."

Joan left and marched to the front reception desk.

"Megan, did Miss Sharpe leave the office?"

"Yes, she walked out a few minutes ago. She was in a hurry. I said goodbye but she didn't respond. She seems to be in a mood today."

Joan reached down for Megan's phone and began dialing Kaye's apartment.

No answer.

She hung up the receiver.

"If Miss Sharpe returns or calls, please let me know immediately."

"Of course, Ms. Harris."

Joan walked back into the main entrance doors and moved towards her own office. She found Stan, Peggy and Joey leaning down against the P.A system listening to Lane, Pete, who had now returned, and Roger, talk.

"What are yo…" Joan began.

"Where's Kaye?" Stan interrupted.

"I don't know. She left a moment ago."

"How unusual for a flake." Peggy said.

"So she's done?" Joey said. "How screwed are we?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss the matter." Joan said. "Now out. The intercom isn't meant for spying."

Peggy, Stan and Joey and left to go back towards the Creative Room in single file.

"Too bad about your girlfriend." Joey said.

"Shut up." Stan said, flicking his ash at Joey. "Mighty big words for the man who doesn't have the balls to talk to her like a man."

"I do." Joey snapped. "What are you saying?"

"That if you like her, you shouldn't pussyfoot around it."

Peggy had already entered the Creative Room and sat down.

"Who says I haven't?" Joey retorted.

Stan smirked, turned, and walked further down the hall.

"You know, that's rich coming from you, Mr. Olson."

Stan squeaked back.

"That's different. You leave her out of it." He pointed through the wall to where Peggy generally sat.

"Who's the pussyfooter now?"

Stan muscles tensed. He whipped around, dragging Joey with him into the Creative Room.

"Peggs, you wanna go out tonight?" He asked instantly.

"What?" She turned to face Stan. Her cheeks reddened and her pupils dilated.

"I said, do you want to go out tonight? I'll pick you up around 6:30. Go for supper and… and hang out."

"Uhhh…" She muttered. "I don't… I suppose so. Sounds fun." She managed a small smile.

"I suppose so." Joey repeated, placing his hand on Stan's shoulder. "Promising."


42 Bullet Park Road,

Ossining, New York

June 9th, 1964 - 9:15AM

Betty Francis was standing at the open window of her bedroom, the curtains drawn slightly in front of her. She was looking out on the lawn, watching Henry, who was leaning down and gardening. He moved much slower than usual; taking some planting soil and mixing it with the old earth just in front of the house. Great beads of sweat ran down his forehead and collected on his brows. The sun was shining brightly, and it was already warming the air.

"Are you just gonna watch, or come help?" Henry looked up into the window at his wife. Betty leaned out the window.

"I was thinking about it. I'm not decent yet."

"All the better." Henry said, leaning onto his left knee. Betty smiled.

"How do you feel?"

"Bad." He paused. "My knees hurt, my legs hurt, my arms hurt, my head hurts. I think I'm old."

"Too late to go back now." Betty said, closing the window. She walked into her closet and put on a simple white shirt and large denim overalls. She snapped the clasps over the buttons, brought her hair up, and walked downstairs, putting on her shoes, and walked out the front door. Henry was still leaned over into the front garden.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever leave your room." He started.

"It was a busy night," She said, leaning down and kissing him. "I was tired."

"Yes, indeed it was." He grinned. "Albeit, not my best performance."

"Henry!" Betty quipped. "The neighbours will hear."

"Let them hear. And I pray their experiences are just as vibrant. Just with less knee pain and stumbling around."

"You were just fine." She whispered, kneeling beside him and kissing him. Betty reached over to the sidewalk where two pairs of gloves rested. She slipped one pair on.

They took a few plants, and moved them from their reddened clay pots to their place in the earth. Betty tamped the fresh soil around the plants with a small spade. They completed a few more flowers in the same way, and soon the front garden had come together.

"It's a little late in the season for these Lobelias." Betty said. "I should have planted them last month."

"Shame on you. Now they'll all die." Henry laughed.

Betty pushed them further into the soil, "I guess I'll just water them more."

Silence.

"You seem different." Henry started.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know exactly. You just seem distracted since I came home. You weren't like this in the hospital."

"I suppose it's because now I have someone else to think of. Before, I knew you were being well taken care of. Now I have to take care of you."

"Well I'm sorry to be such a burden." He said. "You always kiss my bottom lip now too."

Betty turned to face him, raising a brow.

"When we first got married, you used to always kiss my bottom lip. It felt unnatural to me, I guess we just naturally changed. Maybe I was gone so long you went back."

Betty said nothing and continued to garden.

"It's not bad." Henry said. "I was just pointing it out."

"I'm sorry things haven't lived up to your expectations."

"That's not what I meant." Henry grabbed her dirt covered glove, removed it, and kissed her bare skin. "I'm glad to be back, the party was nice, this week has been a welcomed break."

"Good." Betty said, placing the glove back on her hand. She continued to garden.

"I'm looking forward to California." Henry said, standing and steadying himself. "I haven't been in some years."

"Are you now?"

"Yes. I miss the sunshine." He replied, moving under the portico, and opening the front door. "It will be nice to be on the beach together, basking in the sun." Henry walked inside.

"Yes." Betty paused. "I suppose it will."

She turned away from the soil, and sat back against the tree in the yard, placing her head against the trunk. There were chickadees chirping their song in the neighborhood around her. The street was quiet otherwise, no cars were passing by. It was the time of day when everything was silent. It was peaceful. She started to cry, placing her hands onto the cold pavers under her. She looked down to her gloves, and then gazed at the fresh flowers planted in front of her. She turned to face the house, wiping the globules from her cheeks.

"What am I doing?" She mumbled.


"Mr. Draper, our front receptionist Megan is here to see you. She says it's urgent." Allison said, speaking through the intercom into Don's office.

"Send her in."

He stood up from his seat, buttoning his suit jacket. Megan quickly pushed open the door, closing it behind her.

"Mr. Draper I'm sorry to bother you, and I wouldn't under other circumstances, but something terrible has happened…"

Don leaned off his desk. All of his muscles tensed, his face tightened.

"I just got a call from Mount Sinai, they say there was an accident involving Miss Sharpe. She hit a telephone pole on West 57th going fast."

"My god. How long ago did they call?"

"I just got off the phone with them. I came directly here."

"Thank you. Don't tell anyone." Don said, bolting around Megan and opening his office door. "Allison, I'm going to be out for the afternoon. Hold my calls, take messages."

"Yes, Mr. Draper." She said.

Don rushed down the corridor, coming into Joan's adjoining office.

"Mr. Draper. How can I help?" Joan looked up from her work.

"There's been an accident. Kaye's hurt. I'm going to the hospital to see her."

Joan stood up quickly; her eyes widened at attention.

"What can I do?" She asked.

"Get someone to take care of her car, it's probably going to some police impound lot. Don't let any of the team know. We're leaving tomorrow, and I don't want anyone jumping ship. Use discretion. Keep this on a need-to-know basis."

"Alright."

Don turned around, leaving Joan quietly. He paced through the front entrance; Megan had returned to her post. He moved into an open elevator which was just being emptied, pressing the Ground Floor button.

"Hold the door!" Pete yelled from the lobby. Don pressed the "Close Door" button. It lagged, and Pete slid into the elevator as it closed.

"Thanks." Pete said. Don smiled momentarily. The chime rang in the small enclosed box, and it began descending.

"You never know who the bad eggs will be." Pete began.

Don turned to him.

"I mean with Kaye. If she's capable of that, what else could she be doing?" He continued.

Don was silent.

"I hope you know, I don't think any less of you for choosing her. She is quite good looking. And frankly, good with words. Her temper is highly regrettable." He paused. "I think Roger will be able to smooth this whole thing over. We can put it behind us. Sixty thousand is a small price to pay."

Pete looked over to Don, who did not deviate his eyes from the doors. He smiled. Don did not.

The elevator doors breezed open, and Don jumped out, trodding quickly through the front doors and onto the sidewalk. He hailed a cab.

"Mount Sinai Hospital." He slid down, moving further into the backseat.