From Chapter Two Without needing to look at the clock on the wall behind me, I knew I was pushing my luck. Despite finishing my part of the presentation sixty minutes earlier, I didn''t need to glance at my boss, the CEO of one of the world''s largest and most successful advertising agencies, to know I wasn''t going anywhere any time soon. I stifled the sigh threatening to expose itself, plastered a smile on my face that I knew would look genuinely energetic, and forced myself to remain engaged in the creative concepts discussion -- even though all I could think about was that I had promised my family that I wouldn''t be late for dinner. Again. As the creative director at AJ & Emerson, I knew how important the meeting was that was going on around me. We had just finished our pitch presentation for one of the largest bids the industry had seen in years, and just over a hundred million dollars in yearly revenue was up for grabs. I''d had a team of twenty working on the pitch creative for weeks, and I couldn''t let them -- or myself -- down by not remaining fully engaged in the meeting. Even though it was running over by about sixty minutes and I was once again going to miss dinner with my family.

This has to be a good sign , I could practically hear my boss, Jack, thinking. He smiled and nodded, soaking up the glory of the overly enthusiastic clients who were asking so many questions I knew we had nailed the creative. I caught his glance and returned his smile before answering the question that had just been posed by Chelsea, the client''s senior vice president of marketing. A woman in her early forties with a bright smile and a killer Dolce & Gabbana suit, I knew we''d have fun together at a business dinner with lots of wine. "Yes, Chelsea, concept three is our official recommendation. We love all the creative we''ve shown you today, and we think any of them will work. They all effectively communicate the business strategy you''ve briefed us on. But we feel the skyline concept does the best job of showcasing your unique selling proposition.

It''s highly visual and we think it will immediately resonate with your consumers." I took a quick breath, pausing purposely for effect. "When we came up with the idea, I knew we had a winner." "And how long did that take?" Chelsea asked, smiling across the boardroom table that was littered with concepts and sketches. The meeting was quickly waltzing towards the two-and-a-half-hour mark. "Let''s just say it wasn''t straight out of the gate. The team has worked very hard on your business. In fact, the whole team has been, and would continue to be, extremely committed to ensuring we deliver the best creative this industry has seen.

" I returned Chelsea''s smile. We connected, and my spidey senses told me how close we were to winning the business. "I''ll be honest and tell you the creative process for this presentation took a lot of work. But of course we had fun along the way, too ." "Well, we certainly like fun. As long as it accompanies great work. Which this is, by the way." Chelsea pushed her dark-rimmed glasses to the bridge of her nose and continued to examine the concept I had recommended.

"In fact, it''s excellent. Absolutely amazing work." "May I ask what the next steps are?" I was anxious to know what would happen next, but even more eager to wrap up the meeting, since we had pretty much secured the business. With the long hours and tough work now behind us, I wanted to get home to my family. All I could think about was sinking into my kitchen chair at our oversized harvest table and talking to my husband and children about how their days had been. I knew that Pete, my husband of almost thirteen years, who had decided to quit his full-time job as a copywriter to stay at home with our kids, would be just finishing making dinner. I vaguely remembered him saying something about pork tenderloin as I was getting dressed that morning, but my brain had been focused on my big presentation and not on an early-morning dinner selection. Our twelve-year-old daughter, Grace, would be setting the table for dinner, still wearing her volleyball uniform, which would likely be wrinkled and untucked.

Setting the table was Grace''s weekday chore that she couldn''t miss -- or complain about -- if she expected her allowance on Saturday. She had learned her lesson the hard way when she''d complained about it every night and had to wait another week for her allowance so she could afford to buy the new shirt from Aritzia she''d wanted. Grace was our early-marriage surprise, leaving both Pete and me completely panic-stricken at the sight of the faint double line on the pregnancy test I had peed on. We''d only been married for a few months, and were in the very early stage of our careers. Both of us still worked the incessantly long hours required by any advertising job, and we never seemed to leave the AJ & Emerson office, where we had met two years before our daughter''s arrival. Bolting through one of the speediest engagements in history, Pete and I had decided to get married after only six months of dating. With no more than a long weekend available to us, we eloped to the closest warm location that had a minimal waiting time. We were married on our second day at the only dodgy hotel we could afford in the Bahamas, with no one but a rented-by-the-hour minister and a witness from our hotel, whom Pete swears was the same person who brought our room service the next day.

We flew home and returned to work on Monday morning. Three months after we were married, I found out I was pregnant. Lucky for me, I had one of the easiest pregnancies a girl could hope for, and I breezed through the nine months with very few changes to my lifestyle or crazy workaholic ways. Despite my immediate infatuation with our daughter, I fell victim to the pressure to return to work, and took only half of my maternity leave. To my surprise, Pete suggested that he take advantage of the recent changes that allowed fathers to stay at home with their babies, and he temporarily left his job to take paternity leave with Grace. With no family to help take care of Grace, and local daycares that all had mile-long waiting lists, we had limited options for who could stay with our daughter during the day. Pete happily fell into the daily routine of babyland, and he and Grace quickly formed a tight-knit bond that, if I was honest with myself, I knew I didn''t have with my daughter. I loved Grace more than life itself, but the monotony of diaper changes and feeding schedules drove me batty.

And I wasn''t prepared to return to it for many more years. But Pete''s plea for more children grew in frequency as Grace got older and when he returned to work. He''d lost both of his parents when he was in his early twenties, and the only family left was his sister, whom he rarely saw, so he''d become anxious to surround himself with a big family and lots of children. I wasn''t so ready to add to our brood. I had recently been promoted, and was thriving at work. I loved the challenges of my job, and wanted to keep climbing the AJ & Emerson creative ladder. Pete, on the other hand, seemed more content to ride the slower track at work. But even with him coasting in his career climb, we were still struggling to achieve balance at home.

The demands of an advertising agency were intense, and we bounced from job to home at lightning speed with very little room for anything else. I was convinced that adding another child would throw us even more off kilter and unhinge any sense of sanity we''d managed to hold onto. But when I couldn''t resist Pete and all of his charm a moment longer, I conceded to his insistent request and we began to try for baby number two. I convinced myself that I''d still have time because it would likely take a while for me to get pregnant again. But almost nine months to the day after I gave in, we welcomed Nate to the family. Grace had a brother, just as Pete wanted, and my husband was reunited with his glory days, and stayed at home with two kids while I went back to work. After a year, he decided he was happier at home and became a freelance writer. "Ashley? Do you have anything more to add?" Jack asked abruptly, interrupting my thoughts as he wrapped up the meeting.

"I''d say we''ve covered everything," I responded, forcing my brain back into the meeting. I smiled as I stood from my seat and walked around our biggest boardroom, which also boasted impressive views of the city. I shook everyone''s hands. "Thank you so much for coming in today. We''re happy you could see our offices and get a sense of our working environment." From Chapter Three Sitting in front of my house, I handed the cab driver forty dollars and told him to keep the rest. It had been a long ride home, filled with honking horns and commuter traffic. I didn''t have time to wait for change.

I kicked the door shut with my right foot, and practically ran into the house. In the family room, I found Nate on the sofa wearing nothing but blue underwear and holding four packs of gum. Pete was standing opposite him, with his arms folded and his face the colour of my bag. "What''s going on?" I rushed into the room. "And why are you in your underwear, Nate?" "I think the bigger question right now is where he got the gum. Or should I say how," Pete answered, not taking his eyes off our son for one second. Nate looked down and I could see his shoulders slump at what I could only assume was regret mixed with a bit of fear. "Nate? Answer my question," Pete said harshl.