This Man

by Capital

Someone's noticed Goren. She's a goner. Since I've had trouble with adding chapters, I've posted the whole story. I don't own Goren or copyrighted products mentioned.

This is my first attempt at fan fic.

You see Goren by chance, for the very first time. You don't know who he is. Have you ever wondered what that would be like?

I don't own the copyrighted products mentioned in this story.

I don't own Goren...he owns me.

For some reason, I woke up craving a chai latte. I normally hate spending good money on something so frivolous. But I really had a craving. I wondered what was missing from my diet that caused my body to crave a chai latte so much. The little green numerals on the nightstand told me if I got out of bed right then, I would have time to stop on my way to work for a cup. So I gave into my impulse and boy, am I ever glad I did!

It was my good fortune to find an apartment so close to the Real Estate office where I work. Along the route to work, I pass various shops and businesses. Hampton's Bookstore touting the latest bestsellers occupies the space next to my apartment building. Then there is the pharmacy, Leah's Lingerie with all types of unmentionables and adult toys on display and at the end of my block situated on the corner is Carmine's Bakery where incredible pastries are offered along with flavored coffees and teas. Carmine's has been family owned and operated for over 30 years. It seems nothing has changed much over the last 30 years either. Five years ago they started selling coffee and tea in answer to the Starbucks two blocks over. A more recent attempt to update the place was made when Carmine himself painted the walls sunny yellow and added green and white-checkered curtains at the window. The walls are adorned with family photos and scenic posters of Italy. A glass display case along the back presents a variety of Canolis, Neapolitans, blueberry muffins, cranberry muffins, fruit tarts, bagels and sticky pecan rolls. Above the case on the back wall is the menu for the coffees and teas and the prices. The counter running along the right wall is where customers pick up their order and pay. There are four booths along the left wall for customers having the time to linger over their pastries and beverages. And that's when I saw this man.

Sitting in the last booth was this extremely sexy man. He had the morning paper spread out before him. He was resting his chin in his right hand. He was...words escaped me. I hadn't seen a finer looking man in a long, long time. I think I gasped. I started to feel warm. I felt like my hormones were just shot out of a cannon. I could have sworn I heard my ovaries knocking. Leah's Lingerie shop popped into my head. I wanted a cigarette. Stop it! After I calmed down, I realized I was staring at him. Don't stare! Carmine's was busy and I was grateful I would have to wait a few minutes before I would order. The time spent in line gave me more time to look at this man in the booth. Don't stare! Now, living in New York, I've seen my share of attractive men. But I can't remember the last time I saw a man like this! I wondered why I hadn't seen him in here before. Then again, my bank account and waistline dictate I stay out of Carmine's as often as possible. Does he live or work near the neighborhood? I sure hope so!

There was just something about this man that made him different. Maybe it was the way he was dressed. He wore a charcoal gray suit...an expensive one. He paired it with a blue, a September sky blue shirt. His dark blue and gray diagonal striped tie was loosened. I moved up in line. Keep your eyes focused in front of you! I could tell from his posture in the booth that he was tall. His slightly curly brown hair was showing hints of gray. How old is he...early to mid forties? He wasn't particularly handsome. But there was something lively about his face. It's said some people have faces you can read. I think that is true of this man. I had the feeling he's always aware of his surroundings and those around him. Oh, God! Was he aware of my staring? Probably. Shit! He needed a shave. What kind of man wears expensive clothes and doesn't shave? I moved up in line. Maybe he works nights and is now just getting off work. His hands dwarfed the 16 ounce coffee cup as he held it up to his lips. His mouth, well... his lower lip was rich, full and was slightly larger than it's counterpart. He had this little habit of flicking his tongue after he took a sip. A shiver went up my spine. He had incredibly long fingers. Hmmm, no ring. Leah's popped into my head again. Stop it! God, I wish I could see his shoes. Stop it! I moved closer to the counter. Perhaps he plays the piano? No, the clothes are wrong for a piano player at a club and wrong for a concert pianist. There were only three people in front of me and I suddenly forgot what I was going to order. Oh yeah, chai latte. From my new vantage point, I noticed a brown leather notebook on the seat next to him. Don't stare! He placed the notebook on the table and began writing with his left hand. A lawyer? Could be he was up late working on a case. That's plausible. A reporter? A cop? Oooh...handcuffs. Stop it! I was up. I ordered my latte and moved to the register to pay. As I stood there, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. This man slid from the booth and walked toward the door. He walked with a slight swagger. Not arrogant, but confident. This man was very aware of who he was and where he was headed. As I was paying, he left. Shit! I didn't see in which direction he walked! Maybe if I hurry!

Just then I heard from behind me, "did you see that?" I turned and looked down at this very short elderly woman. She looked to be around eighty years old. She wore a blue and pink flower print blouse. Her dyed red hair was set in tight little curls. She repeated, "did you see that?" "See what?" I asked. "Honey, I'm talking about the gray suit with the brown notebook that just walked out." I smiled at her and said, "you noticed him too, huh?" She tapped my arm and said, "honey even at my age, I can appreciate a good looking, sexy man." I said, "good for you." She replied, "with men like that honey, I say good for us." She continued, "I was thinking silk boxers, what were you thinking?" Good Lord. Here I am, a forty-two year old woman discussing a man's underwear with Bozo's grandmother! We sounded like tittering seventh graders. "Well, I hadn't thought about it, but now that you mention it, I guess I'd have to agree with you," I laughed. "I'm going to be late for work if I don't get going," I said. She replied, "honey I hope the rest of your day goes as well as it started!"

Now where is he? In which direction did he walk? Oh, for Pete's sake, get a grip! You have work to think about. Before I knew it, I was at the office. I guess I still had this big grin on my face. My co-worker Gina looked up at me. "What put you in such a good mood this morning?" she asked. "Oh, its something really silly. Let me finish my drink and I'll tell you," I sighed. I sure hope I get the chance to see him again.

Gina just sat and stared at me as I retold the events of the morning. "You need a social life. Derrick knows..." I cut her off. "I don't want you and Derrick fixing me up with anyone and definitely not one of his co-workers." Gina was happily married to Derrick, one of New York's finest. He made Detective two years ago and had recently taken the Sergeant's exam. He and Gina were anxiously awaiting the results. Ever since my very nasty divorce three years ago, Gina has been urging me to get out and meet some new people. Without missing a step she continued, "you're going out with us tonight! Derrick has been so nervous about the exam, he told me this morning he wanted to blow off some steam after work. We're going over to Rita's for a few drinks. Why don't you join us? There'll be lots of men there, many of them single I'm sure." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Ok, ok, I'll go. But I want you to know, the only reason is, I don't want you nagging me the rest of the day! And I'm not staying long. Now lets get some work done." Gina's right. I do need a social life and I could use a stiff drink.

"I don't think I have enough money for a cab and drinks, you up to walking to Rita's?" I asked Gina. "Sure, and don't worry, we'll take you home, unless...you know." "Stop it or I'll just head home," I laughed. The sun was sinking behind the buildings casting long, cool shadows over the pavement. The evening was going to be cool and crisp, something rare in the city. Ahhh...sweater weather at last. Gina and I crossed the street dodging the other workers filing out of buildings. Once across the street, we headed east. There are only a few buildings before the landscape changes to a broad expanse of grass and trees. The park is a source of pride for the neighborhood. A few years back, the area was a haven for drug users, drunks and the occasional street person. Thanks to the efforts of businesses and residents, the area has been reclaimed. Now, children played on swing sets. Old men played chess. Families picnicked. Flower beds and park benches lined the paths. Gina and I walked in relative silence, occasionally talking about events at work. We talked about the weekend and how we both would do laundry and buy groceries. Gina expressed concern for Derrick's future on the force. "I'm sure Derrick will make Sergeant, he's a good, smart cop," I said. Gina replied, "he really wants this. He was really disappointed when he didn't get that Major Case assignment. He's never said it, but I think he's out to prove himself twice as much because..." I grabbed Gina's arm before she could finish. Holy shit!

"Look, its him!" "Him who?" asked Gina. "The man I saw this morning in the bakery," I sighed. He was walking along the westbound path in the park. He was carrying the brown leather notebook. He raised his left hand to remove his sunglasses, tucking them in the pocket of his denim shirt. He hasn't shaved. Oh, Lord, he's wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans. "Stop Gina! Look! Didn't I tell you he was the sexiest man I've seen in a while?" "Him? Well, I'll give you, uh...tall. But girl, he's not very good looking." "Well, I told you I didn't find him particularly handsome didn't I? But on second thought." So much for cool and crisp. Gina continued, "and I'll say the clothes look fine, but I have to say, you white chicks have a strange notion of sexy!" "Ok, so he's not your type and you're married to a good looking man, but I think he's sexy as hell. Look at the way he walks." I stood there watching him move slowly up the path. He looked in deep thought, pondering something weighing on his mind. Who is this man? Why does he look so worried? He continued walking up the path, reached the sidewalk and turned right. We're just two women having a conversation. It's a coincidence I've seen you again. I was aware of Gina standing in front of me. "He's walking in the opposite direction isn't he?" "Yes." She must have been reading my mind. Gina pointed her finger at me and said, "no, don't even think of following him!" "I'm curious that's all. I like to watch him walk! I want to know where..." I stopped myself. I was starting to sound like a crazy woman. "Look, odds are high he lives or works around here. You've seen him twice in one day within a five-block area. Another thing, he's probably got a girlfriend or wife I said no ring and he's headed home to her. That could be a good thing. Disappointing. If you see him with a woman, Bitch. you might be able to get him out of your head. Hell, he could be gay. No way. It's dangerous to follow someone. You know that. What if he's some nut case?" Doubt it. "Gina, you sound like a cop." Tapping her finger against her temple, Gina said, "I'm married to one remember? I sometimes think like one!" We resumed our walking and laughed at the absurdity of my present state of mind. I could sure use that drink.

There's nothing fancy about Rita's. At Rita's you get good drinks at reasonable prices. Every item on the menu is made with ground beef except for the clam chowder served on Friday. The walnut U shaped bar anchors the space and sits about 20 people Three high top tables stand by the front window. Tables for four are lined up on along the perimeter of the bar. Red hurricane candles and drink menus top each table. One television is tuned to either CNN or a sporting event. Instead of the usual neon beer advertisements and sports memorabilia, old nautical maps and framed seascapes decorate the walls. Most of the customers live in the neighborhood or are employees from the jewelry store and bank across the street and the law office next door. Although there will be police in Rita's tonight, it isn't known as a cop's bar.

Gina and I were the first to arrive. There was a young couple seated at the high top up front. Several men and two women were seated at the bar. An elderly couple occupied a table along the right wall. We decided to take tables at the back of the room. As we walked by the bar, Gina whispered, "anyone here your type?" "Hell no! My type at the moment is well over 6 feet tall and in need of a shave," I answered. Gina just rolled her eyes. The waitress came over, took our drink orders and gave us menus. We told her we were waiting for friends and would order food later. I decided to dive right in and ordered a margarita, rocks, lots of salt. Gina went with a rum and Coke, two limes. I noticed two people moving toward us. I knew Mike Johns. Derrick must have invited him. He's in his early fifties, an instructor at the Police Academy and a regular fixture at Derrick's annual barbeque. His wife left him last year. I didn't know the woman with the bright red hair. Another one? Are red headed women harbingers of THIS MAN? Keep an eye on the door!

"How are you ladies this evening?" Mike asked. "We're just fine, thanks," replied Gina. Mike continued, "I'd like you to meet Detective Lynn Bishop. She spoke to the recruits at the academy this afternoon and I offered to take her out for a bite to eat. When Derrick called, I thought why not bring Detective Bishop along." Gina and I introduced ourselves. "Its very nice to meet both of you," Lynn replied with all the warmth and sincerity of a tsetse fly. This woman was cold, stone cold. She was dressed in a black jacket and pants. The white blouse was buttoned at the collar. Her hair was pulled back taut and secured with a silver clip. The only hint of color to this woman was her hair and no doubt, it was dyed. The waitress approached the table. Mike ordered a beer. Lynn just wanted ice water, no lemon. Veins a little low on fuel? I noticed Gina had drained her glass and was ordering another rum and Coke. I still had half my drink left. Uh oh. I nudged Gina's leg with my foot. I stood up and excused myself to go to the restroom. "I'll go with you, said Gina, I'd like to freshen up before Derrick gets here." We stood in front of the mirror combing our hair and applying lipstick. Glancing at my watch, I said, "we've been here barely fifteen minutes and you're on your second drink. That's not like you." "It's her. She's the one who got the assignment at Major Case," answered Gina. "Oh." I paused then continued, Gina, it's been almost a year now. I thought you were over with all that." "I am. I was just a little shocked to see her. I guess I'm pissed at Mike for inviting her. And did you take a look at her? My cocktail napkin has more personality." Gina replied. "Yeah, not the smartest move. Maybe he just figured that after all this time it didn't matter. I don't think he meant anything by it," I replied. Gina sighed, "you're probably right." "Look, I know Derrick was disappointed at first but he moved on. He's a good guy and I know he'll make Sergeant. I believe things happen for a reason. You need to concentrate on the future," I told Gina. Gina looked at my reflection in the mirror and sighed, "girlfriend, thirty minutes ago you were carrying on like a thirteen year old. So now you suddenly get smart on me?" I smiled and said, "I care for my friends and you'd be surprised how smart you get once you turn forty."

Rita's was getting crowded. I did a quick scan of all the men while walking back to our table, just in case. Nope. Damn! Just as Gina and I were sitting down, Derrick walked in with his partner Phil Simmons. I've been around Phil and he is a straight up, good guy. Phil is ten years older than Derrick and the middle age weight gain is creeping up on him. His sandy blonde hair is thinning on top and he just started wearing glasses. Derrick is a tall lanky black man with a great smile. He keeps in shape by running five miles a day. He and Gina make a striking couple. Gina is a petite woman with big brown doe eyes framed with long thick lashes. Derrick gave Gina a kiss on the cheek and me a hug. Gina was first to speak, "Derrick, Phil, this is Detective Lynn Bishop. Derrick is my husband." Derrick and Phil nodded their hellos. We all agreed to order another round of drinks, except Gina, and some food. I went with the clam chowder. Everyone else ordered the meatball sandwich or burgers. Derrick took a sip of his beer and said, "so, Detective Bishop, how was it working over at Major Case?" I glanced at Mike and could see the little muscles in his jaws flex. "How did you know? Did Mike tell you?" "No, I asked my Lieutenant who it was who got the assignment I applied for and wanted," answered Derrick. "You wanted the assignment?" "Yes I did. I spent two years in vice, two in narcotics and I thought a gig at Major Case would look good on my record. I was disappointed to say the least." "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I didn't want the assignment but got it anyway. They just told be to get over there. I found out later the only reason they sent me was Detective Goren works well with women and my name was on the top of the temporary assignment roster," said Bishop. Now that should make Derrick feel better. "Yeah, that's what my Lieutenant told me a few weeks later. "Well, how was it?" asked Derrick. "It was an experience that's for sure. Detective Goren is a very smart guy but I don't like some of his methods," said Bishop. Phil spoke up, "I heard from some Uni's he swung a metal pipe at some guy." "Yes he did. That freaked me out. That was Goren's way of extracting a confession from the man who had killed some Jewish men by bringing them down at the knees," answered Bishop. "He got slapped by a suspect once. I was surprised to hear it was the first time that ever happened," she continued. This is what happens when cops get together. They talk about work.

I admire Gina for being married to a cop. I don't think I could do it. I don't even want to date one. I can't see myself as someone's anchor. It's the hard fact that they have to deal with all that death and despair everyday and it weighs on them. The weight is reflected by the sadness in their eyes. I see the sadness in Derrick and Phil. I saw it in the eyes of the few I dated. I guess it's the way they cope with the death and despair. The few I went out with either drank or slept around too much for my taste. Derrick has Gina and his running. With Phil, it's his two boys. Mike went to work at the academy. And like tonight, they get together and talk. Ok, my turn. "Hey, our real estate company sold the Rexal building. The developers are going to turn it into a daycare center. There's also talk about the library opening a satellite branch there too," I said, trying to change the subject. Phil acknowledged me then continued, "I heard this Goren danced with a male suspect." Bishop replied, "I don't know about that, but it wouldn't surprise me. He has this way of getting physical with witnesses and suspects. Heck, he even put his hands around my neck to reenact the attack on a dead woman." It's impolite to yawn. Detective Bishop kept droning on in her annoying monotone. ...This man and I are in Cape Cod. He's wearing a blue linen shirt and white cotton pants rolled up to his calves. I'm wearing my favorite red sundress and a white straw hat. We're walking barefoot along the beach. We had just shared a picnic lunch of crab cakes and a bottle of wine. I sigh, "the combination of sea air and the wine has made me feel a little mellow. I'm thinking about taking a nap." "That sounds nice," he answers. He drapes his left arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the little clapboard cottage with the faded green paint. I hang my hat on the back of the door. He takes hold of my hand and I follow as we climb the stairs to the bedroom. I love to watch him walk. The ocean breeze dances with the curtains at the window. We stretch across the big iron bed topped with my favorite old quilt. The cool cotton feels good against my warm skin. He leans over and gently kisses my cheek. Smiling, I reach for his.... "Lady, here's your clam chowder." "Goren notices everything. He once said he thought my shoes were hurting my feet because I was curling my toes." God, she's still talking? Everyone chuckled. "He reads everything he gets his hands on and makes notes in this brown notebook he carries everywhere." Brown notebook? Pay attention. "Sounds like an interesting guy," said Derrick.

Did she just mention a brown notebook? Plenty of people carry brief cases and planners. Just looking around the bar I noticed two black briefcases, three laptops and one brown day planner, and its owner looked nothing like this man invading my mind. "The three of you have never met this guy?" I asked. "Nope," answered Phil. "I've talked to him on the phone. I'm trying to get him over to the academy and speak. Seems the timing is never right," said Mike. Derrick added, "working out of Robbery, the chances of us crossing paths are slim. That jewelry heist with the three murders, that happened while I was still working Narcotics. He worked in Narcotics, but out of another precinct. Heard he had a helluva solve rate. There are a lot of people on the force. You can't meet everyone." Gina added, "well it sounds like this guy would be pretty high profile. Seems odd you wouldn't know him." "Oh he's high profile all right. Remember that fiasco with the woman who almost destroyed his career?" Mike asked. "Oh, yeah, I remember," I answered. The media had a field day with that one. I don't recall seeing a picture of him. All the papers reported that his antics and interrogations drove an innocent man to commit suicide. They reported that he was considered somewhat of a legend in the department for his unique investigative style. What Bishop just told us, pretty much reiterated what was reported. Sounds a little weird to me. Bet he has a big ego. Bishop added, "I think he tries to keep a low profile outside of work. He's not very sociable. The whole time we worked together, he never once asked me to have lunch with him, or offered me a cup of coffee. He never offered much about his personal life other than he plays poker occasionally. And I know there is a history of mental illness in his family. We never discussed anything but our cases. I don't think he liked me. I take weird back. He sounds brilliant! I think he resented me for just being there. He was always mentioning his regular partner Detective Eames and how she would know this or understand that. But, if you want, I think I can arrange an introduction." "Derrick said, "yeah, I'd like that. Here's my card, call me." Enough already! I'm tired of hearing about Goren and tired of your voice. Why don't you shut up and eat your burger?

"Speaking of poker, you still play a mean game?" Mike asked me. "Well I wouldn't go as far as saying I play a mean game. I was lucky and on a roll that night we played at Derrick's barbeque," I said. Mike asked, "why don't you come with me to my next poker night?" Poor Mike, poor me. Ever since Mike's wife left, he's been trying to get me to go out with him. "You know the rules Mike, "I said. "Yeah, I know. But it wouldn't be like a real date. Hell, if it were a real date, I wouldn't take you where there'd be a room full of other men." Good point. But by the end of the evening, Mike would have drank too much and then get all maudlin over how his wife left him. He'd ask to come up and talk... No thanks. That happened six months ago when I caved in and went to dinner with him. That's when I swore off dating cops. Mike continued, "besides, they won't all be cops, there are usually some civilians too." Civilians? Now that would be a welcome change. "Thanks, but I'll pass," I answered.

The conversations ceased as we ate our food. I'm getting restless. I occasionally look around the bar for this man. Rita's is beginning to empty. The patrons are finishing theirs drinks and getting ready to head home to wives, lovers, or an empty apartment, like me. I want to leave, but I don't necessarily want to go home... I want to go back to Cape Cod. I want to go back to where this man and I are stretched across the big iron bed. He leans over and gently kisses my cheek. Smiling, I reach for his hand and bring it to my mouth. I kiss his fingertips. I release his hand as he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. He runs his fingers through my hair, locking my head between his palms as he kisses me more deeply. I part my lips so his tongue can explore the inside of my mouth. "I want you," I whisper. "Hey, you," it was Gina. "We're ready to go, you riding with us?" "Oh, uh, yeah that would be fine," I stuttered. Gina gave me a puzzled look then nodded, "you we're thinking of him weren't you?" Guilty. God, help me.

I took one last look around the bar as we left. As we walked toward the cars, Mike turned to Derrick. "Hey, do you two think you can come to the academy next Thursday night? I think its time for another session with the wives of the recruits." Gina replied, "we'll be there." Mike explained to Detective Bishop that Derrick and Gina volunteer to talk with the wives on the topic of what its like to be married to a police officer. "Gina does a great job. Derrick is usually just along for the ride," he laughed. Gina makes it easy for people to open up to her. That's one of the first things I noticed about her when she came to work for the real estate office. Gina possesses the ability to listen and she never betrays a confidence. She's fiercely loyal, not only to Derrick, but also to her friends. I'm glad she's got my back. Mike and Bishop reached his car. As he climbed in, he asked me, "are you sure I can't talk you into that poker game?" "I'm sure," I answered. Derrick's car was up the block further. "Are you two coming along?" asked Derrick. We we're lagging behind a little. I knew Gina wanted to talk to me before we got to the car.

"You were thinking about the man back there, weren't you? You were looking for him to walk into Rita's too," Gina asked. "I couldn't help it. Bishop was getting on my nerves. I just blocked her out. Thinking about him was more fun than listening to her," I said. "Did you catch her mentioning the brown notebook?" Gina wondered. "I caught it, but dismissed it. Do you realize how many notebook toting men are floating around this city?" I replied. "Yeah, what are the chances of your mystery man and this Goren guy being one and the same? From what I saw, he doesn't look like a cop. You've been around enough of them, most of them look like Derrick and Phil!" Gina laughed. She's right.

We were all quiet on the short ride to my place. As Derrick approached the intersection, I told him to just let me out at the corner. Carmine's is on this corner but it's closed. "You sure?" asked Derrick. "Yeah," thanks. It was still early enough that people were still out and about. Some of the businesses were still open. The night was clear and cool. Walking gave me a chance to clear my head, to get this man out of my head. I decided to make a mental checklist of things I needed to be done tomorrow and get the image of this man out of my head. How many of them would require me leaving my apartment, increasing my chances of seeing this man? So, I'm weak. Let's see, I'll do my laundry, pick up the dry cleaning, scrub the bathroom, vacuum, read a book, call my friend Ellen, and my last resort, go into the office.

The laundry facilities are in the basement – 0

You picked up the dry cleaning yesterday – 0

The next four – 0 Ok, I'm a moron!

Work – The upside is I pass by Carmine's! – 1

One? It's times like this; I wish I had a dog to walk.

I was nearing Leah's Lingerie and noticed it was still open. I stopped in front of the window and stared at the adult toys. No, no and no. I entered my apartment building, unlocked my door and headed straight to the bathroom to turn on the shower. I shampooed my hair and shaved my legs. That unshaven face popped into my head. After I dried off, I decided to give myself a pedicure. I turned on the TV and settled for the History Channel. That should be benign enough. I slipped into my blue cotton nightshirt. I poured myself a beer and plopped down on the sofa. The next thing I knew, it was 2 o'clock in the morning. I headed for my bed and slid under the covers.

Let me give you a piece of advice: Never combine Margarita's and clam chowder followed by a beer. By 3 o'clock my stomach ached and my head hurt. Throwing the covers aside, I padded to the medicine cabinet. I swallowed a couple of antacids along with two aspirins. I tossed and turned for another hour. When I managed to fall back asleep, it was fitful... I'm dressed in a blue satin gown standing barefoot in the middle of a room completely decorated in white. A white marble staircase flanked by two columns of white is to my right. On top of the columns are huge bouquets of white tulips, roses and magnolias. A runner of white carpet climbs the stairs. The only piece of furniture is a long white sofa. Wall sconces hold white candles. There is a mirror behind me and I look at the reflection. I recognize the face but my hair is different. It is dyed red. I'm the only source of color in the room. I hear a sound behind me. At the top of the staircase stands this man dressed in black from head to toe. His black turtleneck sweater is tucked into black leather pants. His black boots add another two inches to his height. His hair shows no hint of gray and falls in waves to his shoulders. I can't see his face, but I know who he is. He descends the stairs in three strides, moving like a panther. This man is hypnotizing. This man is menacing. I try to run but he grabs my arm. His touch is cold. His voice is barely audible. "Don't, I want you," he tells me. I want to run, but I can't move. He turns me so I can see our reflections in the mirror. "You're afraid of me, but you still want me, don't you?" he murmurs in my ear. All I can manage is "I...don't..." "Shhh...look at you. You're afraid, but intrigued and that surprises you," he says. I'm trembling. His hands are pressing my hips against him. Through the leather I can feel his arousal. I hear a click and see a flash of silver. With two swift flicks, the straps are cut, leaving my gown pooled around my feet. I'm completely exposed to this man. I can't bear this. I shut my eyes. "Don't deny your hunger for me," he moans. His ice-cold hands leave my hips and find their way to my breasts. My nipples are assaulted with his fingers, leaving them in searing pain. "Open your eyes and look," he demands. He flicks his serpent-like tongue across my shoulder and up the back of my neck. He controls the pace as we begin to move together...

An intense orgasm woke me up. I was trembling, trembling from the dream. I was frightened. Where did that come from? It's one thing to daydream about Cape Cod and lazy afternoons in bed with this man. But this dream, that was another matter. The disturbing nature of my dream jolted me back to reality. "This is completely nuts," I said out loud. The clock read 7 o'clock. I decided to take charge of the day and forget about the past 24 hours. I tossed aside the covers and slipped on my blue shorts. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. My hair was a mess. I grabbed a baseball cap and put it on. It should be easy to get a machine this early in the morning so I gathered up my laundry and headed downstairs. I started the machine knowing I had at least 30 minutes before the clothes were ready for the dryer. My stomach still felt queasy, so I want back upstairs to grab a bite to eat. I had a limited choice. I settled for a piece of toast and half a glass of milk. Add buying food to the list. Suddenly, the thought of seeing this man lost its appeal. By 10 o'clock my laundry was washed, folded and put away. By noon, my apartment smelled like a citrus grove with the aroma of orange polish and lemon cleaner. The bathroom was scrubbed and shiny. I left a message for Ellen. Time to venture out for groceries.

Before leaving I showered. As I dried my hair, I tried to imagine myself as a redhead. Could work. I'm already disguising my mouse brown color with blonde, so why not? I could carry it off with my complexion. Could carry it off better than Detective Bishop! I slipped on my favorite jeans and a white tee shirt, tossed my red cardigan over my shoulders, knotted in front. The finishing touches were a little mascara and lipstick. I stood back and looked in the mirror. Not bad. It beats the reflection I saw last night. Oh, don't go down that road. I know I'm only going for groceries, but I learned a long time ago to never leave the house without looking presentable. I once ran into my old high school nemesis, Joyce Hart. I was wearing torn sneakers, an old jogging suit and a ball cap. Of course Joyce looked impeccable in her designer suit and shoes. Never again. I grabbed my big canvas bag for groceries, my keys and sunglasses and headed out in the afternoon sun. On the way to the grocery I walk by Murphy's Grille. I realized I hadn't eaten since the morning and I was hungry. Murphy's is an Irish themed restaurant and bar. The atmosphere is a little tacky, and the food is the usual pub fare. I could slip in and eat a bowl of Irish stew it's cheap. I decided to skip Murphy's. I could wait until I got home to eat.

At the very back table of Murphy's sat a man. An issue of Smithsonian Magazine was open before him on the table. He was highlighting passages of text. The waitress approached and said, "hey Detective, I haven't seen you for a couple of weeks." "Oh hi Eva. I have been busy, he replied, emphasizing the have. I finally managed a few days off," he added. "So you decided to sit inside here and read? If I had the day off, I'd be out enjoying this nice day," said Eva teasingly. He grinned. "Actually I'm on the way to the grocery. It isn't smart to shop on an empty stomach," he said. "Irish stew and a club soda?" she asked. "Uh...stew and make it a Guinness," he answered. "Living a little dangerously now are we?" Eva asked. "Always," he replied only half jokingly. "I'll get your Guinness and then turn in your order." Eva returned with his glass and set it on the table. "Thanks. Oh and Eva, thanks again for giving me the name of that cleaning lady," he smiled. "No problem. She says it's working out fine," Eva smiled back. She also said he was the neatest person she's ever cleaned for. But Eva didn't want to share that with him. The sixty-five year old waitress fanned herself on the way to the kitchen. "Oh, Lord, there is just something about that man," she thought to herself. "Ladies, he's back!" she announced out loud once she reached the kitchen. A few minutes later, Eva returned with the stew. "Is there something wrong with your back?" he asked. "Uh...no. Oh cripes, he heard. Why?" "I thought I heard you mention something about a back, that's all," he answered. "Oh that. Uh...I think I told Sadie, to take...these dirty dishes back," Eva stammered. He just nodded. Eva thought it was a pretty good comeback, but knew he didn't buy it for a minute. "Enjoy your stew. Another Guinness?" she asked. "No, I'll take some water though," he replied. The waitress retreated for the water wanting to splash some on her self. "No fool like an old fool," she thought.

A strange thing happened as I walked away from Murphy's. All the visions of my early morning dream flooded my mind. That was odd because the memory of it had begun to blur shortly after I got out of bed and started cleaning. Why all of a sudden, did I start remembering it again? Maybe the lack of food has made me delirious. Hunger? That must be it. What did this man say? Oh yeah, "don't deny your hunger for me." I'm hungry that's all. I laughed at myself for been so disturbed by the dream now. Funny thing, a sunny afternoon gives a new perspective on things. After all, it was my dream. My dream about a man that doesn't even know I exist. It wasn't his fault. I was the one obsessing. I guess the explicit nature surprised me more than anything else. It really wasn't all that bad. The residual effect wasn't all that bad either.

Damn it, why did I have to remember the dream? This man is creeping back into my head. I picked up some milk, two oranges, three apples, some meat and cheese from the deli and two chicken breasts. I saw his hands on my breasts in front of the mirror. Stop it. I chose spaghetti sauce, pasta, bread and cookies. My last stop was for frozen entrees. His touch was ice cold. I held my hands up to my head and pressed against my temples. What are you doing to me? Why? "What are you doing to me...why?" I was shouting. My behavior caused some shoppers to back away. Others didn't even notice. I felt like a fool. Robert Goren was reaching for a package of bagels when he heard a women shouting. His first thought was to go and see if something was wrong. "Probably a couple having a fight over the cell phone. There's only one voice and it doesn't seem to be any other commotion," he shrugged. I rushed to the checkout and paid. Once outside the store I took a deep breath and headed back to my apartment.

I felt better once I got back home. I fixed a ham and cheese on rye and opened a diet Pepsi. I was munching on an apple when it occurred to me that I could get out of the city for a while. Although I walk most places, I do own a car. It was part of the divorce settlement. I keep it in a garage two blocks from my apartment building. The ex pays the rent. I could drive over to New Jersey and visit Ellen, my old roommate from college. I don't think she would mind if I spent the night. It also occurred to me that I really couldn't get this man out of my head. So what? A little fantasy is good once in a while. The reality would probably really suck anyway. If I never saw him again that would be ok I suppose. If I did, well so much the more fun. I decided to go with the flow and enjoy it while it lasted.

Four o'clock and here I sat. I blew off the drive and Ellen. I'd already eaten the only thing left was shopping! Unfortunately at this hour my choice was Leah's or the pharmacy. The pharmacy it was. I entered the pharmacy and walked toward the hair care aisle. I perused the red hair color. I didn't realize there were so many shades of red! Maybe I should Call Detective Bishop and ask her which one she uses. Heh, heh, that's mean but funny. I decided I probably should let my stylist do the coloring. I don't trust myself to pick the right shade. Maybe I should leave well enough alone and stay blonde. I picked up a bottle of shampoo. I hit the nail polish next. There were just as many shades of pink polish as there was red hair color. I chose a shade called Rambling Raspberry. I'll take it. The magazine rack was straight ahead. Every magazine was touting the same thing. "Lose A Dress Size In One Week!" It must be miserable to wear a size six instead of a four. "Cut Your Food Budget." Yeah, eat once a day. "Trouble Achieving Orgasm?" Boy do I have a suggestion! I chose a "Vanity Fair." I paid for my items and decided to take a little stroll before heading home.

I headed toward Murphy's. Maybe I'll run into someone I know. Or don't! I chose to sit at the end of the bar next to the cash register. I could always talk to the bartender if she's not too busy. I didn't recognize the bartender. "You're new," I said. "Yep, started yesterday," he answered. "Renee didn't quit did she?" I asked. "No, she gave up weekends because she wasn't seeing enough of her kids," he replied. He turned to pour my beer and a margarita. I noticed the day's paper and a magazine tucked up next to the register. "Do you mind?" I asked picking up the stack of paper. "Nope. But don't take the magazine. Some guy left it here this afternoon. The day staff said he would be back for it," he told me. I looked at the magazine. Smithsonian? I've never looked at a Smithsonian magazine before. I opened it and noticed yellow highlighting. Student or teacher? I don't know anyone who reads this. I wondered who did. I flipped the magazine over and noticed the mailing label had been torn off. He's protecting his identity, which is fine. He had highlighted text from an article about Hmong immigrants from Laos. Evidently they served as secret allies for the U.S. during the Vietnam War. Now living in the U.S. they were prospering. Huh. I finished my beer and put the magazine back. When I returned home, my answering machine light was blinking. Ellen left a message. "Come for lunch tomorrow, we're eating around one. Call me and say yes," is all she said. That's Ellen, quick and to the point. Well that takes care of tomorrow. I settled in for the night.

Since I didn't sleep very well the night before, I went to bed early and slept like a rock. No indigestion. No dreams. I woke up and made plans for my visit with Ellen. I probably should take something with me. Something for dessert. Carmine's came to mind, but I'd already spent enough money this weekend. I checked my cabinet and saw I had enough ingredients to make brownies. Ellen's kids will enjoy those more than some fancy goody from Carmine's anyway. I prepared the batter, shoved it in the oven and headed for the shower. The brownies where done. I was dressed, and ready to go. Traffic was light on this Sunday morning. I made it to Ellen's in record time. We ate outside under a clear blue sky. Ellen's husband Paul, cooked chicken on the grill. Ellen prepared green beans from her garden along with a tossed salad and garlic bread. The brownies were a hit with the kids. After lunch, Paul and the kids disappeared so Ellen and I could talk. We caught up on what happened since our last visit together. I told her about my mystery man. She had pretty much the same reaction as Gina. Before we knew, it was time for me to head home. It was a nice visit and Ellen promised to come to the city the next time.

I had another restful sleep. I felt a little disappointed. I noticed the sky was overcast. What a way to start the workweek. I got ready for work, grabbed my umbrella and locked the door behind me. I approached the corner and Carmine's. I stopped in front of the window and held my hands to the glass and peaked in. Hey, I need a lift. I didn't see him, but noticed grandma Bozo! What a hoot. I waited through two walk cycles on the stoplight. I finally continued on to the office. "Morning Gina," I said. "Hi. How was your weekend? Any more sightings?" she asked. "Not the physical type," I replied. "Oh, so you had dreams uh?" she said. "Oh yeah...just one and it was a doozie. Lets just leave it at that." I said. "Was there any sex involved?" Gina asked. "Now what did I just say?" I said. "I take that as a yes," she replied. "Drop it Gina." The office was going to be busy. There had been showings over the weekend. There were purchase offers to type up. There were new listings to file. It looked like Gina and I would be busy for the next few days.

Every day I passed by Carmine's. Every day I stopped in front of the window and held my hands to the glass and peaked in. Nothing. Damn. What happened to this man? I saw grandma Bozo twice. It was Wednesday and I hadn't seen him since last Friday. He didn't even show up in my dreams. I was so busy at work I didn't have time to think about him. And by the end of the day I was so exhausted I fell into a heavy sleep. What happened to this man? Maybe my fantasy days were over. I left work Wednesday evening and headed home. I was going to go home, pour myself a glass of wine and take a nice hot bath. After the bath and wine I popped a frozen entrée in the microwave and sat in front of the television to eat. I poured my self another glass of wine... The doorbell rang. I lazily walked to the door and looked through the peephole. This man was standing in the hallway, inches from my door. I smoothed my damp hair and straightened my shoulders. I turned the deadbolt and unhooked the chain. Dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck with no tie, this man stood in my doorway. "Uh...can I come in?" he asked. I stepped aside and let him enter. He noticed my wine glass on the kitchen counter. "Would you like a glass?" I asked him. "That would be nice," he replied. He walked through my kitchen and relaxed his large frame in one of the bar stools at the end of the counter. He stretched his long legs out in front, crossing them at the ankles. As I handed him his wine, the front of my robe loosened, partially exposing my right breast. I noticed his gaze and I quickly readjusted the front. "You don't exactly seem pleased to see me, is there something wrong?" he asked. "Well, I thought you...were. Oh, God, I can't explain it to you," I stammered. He stared at me quizzically, "come here," he whispered. Oh God, I'm so gone. He uncrossed his ankles and drew me in so I was standing between his legs. I was standing at eye level with him and I met his gaze. This was the first time I noticed his eyes, cognac colored eyes that reveal sadness, intelligence and passion. "I think you're glad I showed up tonight," he grinned. "Oh, I think you're right." I placed his hands on my waist and kissed him. His lips parted and he eagerly leaned into my kiss. I broke from his lips and murmured, "I've missed you, where have you been?" "I'm sorry, I've been busy," he replied. "Too busy for this?" I drew him in for another deep kiss, tasting the wine, drinking his passion. His hands untied the sash of my robe. He rubbed the small of my back with his hands. I moaned. He pushed me away, taking a breath. "I could use a shower. Care to join me?" he asked. My knees buckled and I managed to say, "I took a bath just before you came over." He kissed my neck then said, "ah, yes and you used lavender bath salts didn't you?" This man is amazing I thought as he continued kissing my neck, slowly moving down my chest. I managed to mutter, "lavender, is supposed to promote sleep, you know." "I don't think you'll be getting much sleep tonight," he replied. Oh no. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Damn, what time is it? The VCR clock read 11 o'clock. Oh, it's going to be a long night. He was right. You son of a bitch. I drained what was left of my wine and padded off to my bedroom wearing my Yankees jersey instead of the silky little robe I wore in my dream. I tossed and turned, reliving the scenes of my dream. A dreamless sleep eventually took over around one o'clock.

Thursday morning dawned overcast and gloomy. My head felt overcast as well. Blame it on the wine, stupid. Since it was so gloomy outside, I decided to wear my new burnt orange silk sweater with my cream colored trousers. With my amber earrings and matching necklace, I was feeling better by the minute. It was a little dressy, but I get tired of wearing the staid old casual clothes I normally wear to work. I ate a cold Pop tart and downed a glass of milk. I grabbed my raincoat and umbrella, locked the door and headed off to work. As was my routine, I stopped and glanced through the window of Carmine's. Not a sign of this man. No grandma Bozo either. I smiled to myself as I remembered the dream from the night before. It was nice having him back in my life, even if it was only in my mind. I can live with that. "Whoa, you look nice today," said Gina as I hung up my raincoat. "Thanks. I felt like wearing something new today. Blame the weather," I replied. The morning passed quickly. After lunch, the afternoon just seemed to drag on and on. I was getting bored and restless. "Hey Gina. Does Derrick have to work tonight? Do you want to go to Murphy's after work?" I asked. "Can't do. We have to be at the Academy tonight," she answered. "Oh yeah, I forgot." As much as I dreaded staying until the office closed, I told Gina she could leave a little early. Four o'clock. Two more hours. Blech. Around five, Derrick walked in. "Hey baby," he said to Gina. "You're a little early to pick me up. We don't need to be at the Academy until seven," she replied. "Uh...I should have called. But I got a call from Detective Goren about an hour ago. He said he would like to meet with me tonight if it was ok. I told him I thought it would be ok... if you wouldn't mind going alone tonight. I already cleared it with Mike," he said. "Oh...I guess I can do it by myself. Mike always says you're just along for the ride anyway," Gina snickered. "Great. I knew you would understand. You take the car and I'll take the subway or a cab home," Derrick replied. I spoke up, "you can borrow my car." "No, I couldn't do that," Derrick said. "Yes, you could and you will. Gina can drive my car back in the morning," I smiled. "Works for me," added Gina. That was settled. "I have to go back home and get the keys. What time are you meeting this guy?" I asked. "Around seven, at Murphy's. Seems he just moved into the neighborhood a few weeks ago and is familiar with the place. I'm supposed to tell one of the waitresses I was meeting him and she would take care of me. Phil is out in the car waiting. I'll drop him back at the precinct and bring the car back to you," Derrick answered. "I'm closing the office at six. I'll go home, get the keys and meet you at Murphy's, say around six thirty-ish?" I asked Derrick. "Fine," he replied.

Six o'clock and Derrick hadn't returned from dropping Phil off at the precinct. At six-fifteen, Gina's cell phone rang. It was Derrick. He was going to be about fifteen minutes late, but he'd be there. It left little time for Gina to get to the Academy, but she would wait. I left to get the keys. I told Gina to tell Derrick that I'd be waiting for him at Murphy's. On my walk back to my apartment, it started to drizzle. By the time I arrived home it was raining steadily. Oh hell, I might as well pick up the car and drive to Murphy's. I didn't relish the idea of getting my trousers dirty and wet, so I changed into my soft comfortable jeans and slipped into my tan leather boots. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and noticed that my hair and make-up were a mess. I combed my hair, refreshed my eye makeup and reapplied some lip-gloss. I scrapped the necklace and wrapped a brown and green silk scarf around my neck. Take that Joyce Hart! By the time I reached Murphy's, Derrick was sitting at a table in the back. He motioned me over and asked me to sit down. "Sorry I'm late. I decided to drive the car over since it's raining. I had to drive around the block a few times before I could find a space," I said "Well, thanks. Let me buy you a drink," he said. "Oh, no I shouldn't. Your Detective will be here any minute and I don't want to intrude," I answered. "Nonsense. You aren't intruding, besides you've heard about him. Aren't you just a little bit curious? I hear he's single too," said Derrick. "Uh...I don't care if he's single. Let's not go down that road, ok? But, yeah I guess I am somewhat curious. The way Detective Bishop went on and on makes me wonder about him a little. I'm curious about the type of man who could put up with Ms. Stone/Ice Age," I laughed. Derrick and I both ordered a beer. We made small talk and I asked when he thought he's find out about the Sergeant's exam. Derrick leaned to his right a little and seemed to be looking at the crowd in the room. I turned and saw him. There he was standing at the bar waiting. Someone handed him something. God he looks gorgeous. He was wearing a chocolate brown overcoat.I turned quickly back to Derrick and took a big gulp of my beer. "You ok?" asked Derrick. "Yeah...I think so. I don't know if Gina has told you about..." I was suddenly aware of someone behind me and then heard, "you must be Detective Thomas. I'm Robert Goren." I turned and looked up and it was this man. Oh no! Oh shit! Shit! This man is Robert Goren? Shit, shit, shit! Oh, shit. Derrick looked at me with this puzzled look on his face. My fingers started to tingle and I could feel my face and neck turn hot with red. "Hi," I managed to utter. He folded his raincoat over the back of the chair and placed his brown notebook and a copy of Smithsonian Magazine on the table. He sat to my right. I instinctively folded my arms across my chest. Derrick introduced me. "I was just leaving," I said. "Wouldn't you like to finish your beer?" this man asked. What I really wanted to do was find the nearest wall and beat my head against it! "Detective, I...just came to drop my car off for Derrick and he invited me to stay and have a drink," I said. "That's fine. I'm sorry, have we met?" he asked. Oh, God, if he only knew. "I don't think so...I would definitely remember if we had," I replied. Oh shit. I didn't just say that did I? I wanted to crawl under the table. Hell. Who was I kidding? I wanted to crawl onto his lap. "There's something familiar about your face and uh...your voice," he said. "Well...I do live a few blocks from here. Maybe we've passed each other on the street," I answered. He tilted his head and said, "you're probably right." Oh, this can't be happening! Get a grip! "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'll be back in a little bit," I said retreating to the ladies room. Once inside, I took a deep breath and sighed. Oh, this is so unreal. I caught a glimpse of my self in the mirror. I looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Just then a stall door opened and a waitress, our waitress Eva, walked out. As she washed her hands she said, "he has the same effect on a lot of women around here." "That obvious huh?" I asked. "Oh it was to me, but I think it goes pretty much unnoticed by him," she replied. I smiled back. Why did he have to be a cop? This man, the object of my desire turns out to be a cop? Be careful what you wish for.

As I walked back to our table a loud clap of thunder shook the building and the lights flickered. I took it as a sign. Maybe it's time to reexamine my issues with cops. I decided to seize the moment. So far, the reality wasn't all that bad. "I'm staying, at least until this storm blows over," I announced. "It will be next to impossible to get a cab in this weather and I doubt you could make it home without getting soaked," said Goren. "Yeah, Derrick can drop me off on his way home," I agreed. Derrick shot me an odd look. Detective Goren continued, "he said you'd want to leave because listening to cop talk bores you." Derrick shot him an even odder look. "Oh is that so?" I touched Derrick's hand and laughed, "it's that I get bored listening to Derrick and his partner's stories twenty times over." Poor Derrick. He was starting to look apoplectic. "Lets order some food. After that, you two can talk all night long about your work. I'll just sit here and try not to yawn," I grinned. I'll apologize to Derrick later. We all decided on the Irish stew and another round of beers. Eva winked at me as she walked away. "Oh Detective, I have a confession to make...uh make that two. We haven't met, but I recognize you from Carmine's, last Friday morning. I was standing in line and noticed you sitting in one of the booths. And on Saturday, I guess it was your magazine I thumbed through. It was lying on the bar next to the register and I took the liberty and read some of it. I hope you don't mind," I offered. "Yes, yes Carmine's. That's right, I noticed you standing there. God, he caught me starring? And I don't mind if you read my magazine," he smiled. Wow! Oh what a nice smile. I wanted to experience kissing that lower lip, gently taking it between my lips. Whoa! Take it easy. Our stew arrived and we all agreed that it was definitely the best item on the menu at Murphy's Grille. "Which article?" Goren asked. "What?" "Which article did you read?" he asked again. "Oh, the one about the immigrants from Laos. I found it...interesting. I thought maybe a student of teacher had left it. I never imagined a Detective reading Smithsonian," I laughed. "Well I have a love of reading. Information I gather from various sources helps me in my work. I believe I have to be as smart or smarter than the criminals I pursue and arrest," he replied. That brought us back to the reason we were sitting at Murphy's in the first place. "I'm sorry Derrick. You two should talk," I said.

Detective Bishop's rambling's didn't jibe with this man sitting to my right. I found Detective Goren quite sociable and charming. I found him considerate taking the time to share his insights with Derrick. His voice was persuasive. How many women has he persuaded into his bed? Oooh, bad image. He had this strange habit of changing cadence in the middle of a sentence punctuating a point with those broad hands and long fingers. His hands rubbed the small of my back. I shivered. "Are you alright?" Goren asked me. He noticed my shiver? "I'm must be a little chilled from the rain," I recovered. Bishop said he notices everything. What did the waitress say? "I think it goes pretty much unnoticed by him." Don't count on it Eva. I felt my self getting flustered again. Scenes from my dreams and fantasies came flooding back. I needed some air. I have to get out of here. Wrap it up guys.

I excused my self again. I walked to the door of Murphy's and checked the weather. I stepped out and noticed the rain was now just a light drizzle. There were several people standing under the awning smoking. I asked one woman if I could buy a cigarette. After my near sexual experience, I needed one. I took three drags and flicked the lit end off and put the butt in my purse. I may need it later tonight. Eva was at our table when I got back. "We'd like two cups of coffee," said Derrick. "Well, I guess I'll have one too, only make mine a decaf. I couldn't see getting much sleep tonight. Why add to the problem? The rain has let up," I added. Eva returned with our coffee, Derrick and Goren continued talking about their days in Narcotics. Goren talked about his partner Alexandra Eames. Um...how can she concentrate? I want to meet this woman. Derrick's pocket beeped. "Uh...it's Gina. I'll be right back," he said getting up from the table. Oh, I need to call Gina as soon as I get home! She ain't gonna believe this! So here I sit with the sexiest man I've seen in months, no make that years, and I felt like a teenager on her first date. I sipped my coffee and said, "Detective, I know your work must be stressful. Derrick runs to relieve his stress. How do you manage?" I asked. "Well, I try not to dwell on the people and the crimes they commit. I find that helps. Like I said earlier, I love to read. And I walk on a treadmill while reading this," he replied pointing to his Smithsonian. "Do you have any other hobbies besides reading?" I asked. "I find reading leads me to explore new areas of interest. I like to study the psychology and pathology of the criminal mind. Whoa! Sounds like a fun guy! I like to cook, but I find cooking just for my self rather boring. Ah, no significant other. And I play poker once a month," he answered. Poker? How about a game of strip? "I understand what you're saying about cooking. My meals consist of frozen entrees and sandwiches. It's more fun when you can share your cooking with someone," I smiled. "I agree," he smiled back. "What do you like to cook?" I asked. "Anything with a foreign flavor. I spent several years in the Army stationed in Germany. I traveled through Europe and discovered a whole new world of food. But I have to say Chinese is my favorite. I spent some time in China and learned some interesting recipes," he replied. "You've traveled the world. Sounds fascinating," I said. "Well, it was work, but I...loved the countries uh, and I met some terrific people," he said. "You must have some great memories and plenty of pictures," I said. Derrick returned. Go away Derrick. "Uh, that was my wife. She just wanted me to know that she was home," Derrick said. "Derrick, I'm ready anytime you are," I replied. I'm such a liar. I could have sat there all night and learned more about this man. Derrick spoke, "I'm ready now. Lets get our checks." "Uh...let me pick up the tab. I'll charge it to the department. I'll take care of the food and coffee and we can figure what we owe separately for the beers. The department frowns on spending money for alcohol," said Goren. Derrick decided to buy my beers for the use of my car. I didn't owe a thing. "Thanks Derrick and thank you Detective," I said. Detective Goren looked at me and said, "it was my pleasure. I enjoyed this evening more than I expected. It was nice talking with the both of you. Derrick, if you ever want to get together again, let me know. And let me know about that Sergeants exam." I rose. "Here, let me help you," Goren said reaching for my raincoat. His hand brushed my arm sending a jolt through my body and I shivered again. "I hope I'm not coming down with a cold. I keep getting the shivers tonight," I laughed. Detective Goren just nodded. It had stopped raining but Derrick asked Detective Goren if we could give him a lift home anyway. "No thanks. My place is just up a few blocks, the Stanton Apartments. Ah hah! Now I know where he lives. I watched him walk away, the wind whipping his raincoat around his legs. God, I love to watch him walk. He suddenly turned, took three strides, leaned in and said, "oh, the next time you see me in Carmine's, stop by and talk." "I will," I replied. You bet your sweet ass I will!

"Huh...hum. You getting in the car?" it was Derrick. "Oh yeah, the car." I answered. Once in the car Derrick asked me what that was all about. "What was what about?" I asked. "Well, to my trained eye, it looked like you were flirting with Detective Goren. I thought you weren't interested in staying. Once he showed up, you sure changed you attitude," he continued. "Well your trained ears should have heard the only reason I decided to stay was the weather. And, I wasn't flirting! I found him smart and he told fascinating stories. Even you have to admit, he's not your average cop. That's all," I answered. You're a man. What do you know? "Ok, so that's your story," Derrick replied. "Yes, that's it. And I'm sorry for the remark I made earlier about your boring stories," I grinned.

Robert Goren glanced back as the car pulled away. "So this is the woman I noticed in Carmine's and saw running from the grocery," he spoke out loud. He shook his head. "This is the woman I ravaged with my hands in my dream last night, and I just had dinner with her." The thought made him feel a little uneasy and he shivered. "I liked her. The reality wasn't so bad," he grinned to himself. He entered his apartment, picked through the mail and glanced at the clock. "Not quite ten o'clock. Too early for bed, like I could sleep anyway!"

Derrick dropped me off in front of my building and waited until I was safely inside. I ignored the elevator and ran up the three flights of stairs. I unlocked my apartment and grabbed the phone. "Gina, its me. Derrick just dropped me off. He should be home soon. But that isn't why I'm calling," I said trying to catch my breath. "Slow down. Uh oh...you saw," Gina stopped talking. "See? Hell I met him tonight. The man in Carmine's and the park is Detective Robert Goren!!" I yelled into the phone. "What did you just say?" Gina asked. "This man is Detective Goren! He's gorgeous, charming, smart and the sexiest man I've ever encountered! God, can you believe it? I've had these sexual fantasies about this man and wham I end up eating dinner with him!" I shouted. "Whoa. Girl, are you serious? No way," is all Gina could say. Then she added, "you didn't say or do anything, you know, stupid did you?" I told her about the shivers and how I would have remembered him if we had met. Gina just laughed. "By the way, Derrick thinks I was slightly off kilter tonight and he's a little confused by my reaction to Detective Goren. I tried to explain to Derrick that Goren was just so totally different than must of the cops I've met and I was just trying to be...uh, polite. He may say something when he gets home," I added. "I'll try to explain it to him, but I don't think he'll get it," she answered. "If he doesn't make a big deal out of it, just let it drop will you?" I asked. "Sure," Gina replied. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow and give you all the juicy details. Oh, I almost forgot! I know where he lives!" I said. "Careful girlfriend. And try to get some sleep will you?" Gina laughed as she hung up. Sleep?

Sleep? Gina said sleep? I wasn't even remotely ready for sleep. I was wired. I couldn't get the evening out of my head. So much had happened. My emotions were running rampant. What was I suppose to feel? I just found out the man I was having sex with in my mind turned out to be a cop. I've tried stay away from cops because of the emotional baggage they carry. I don't know if I'm emotionally strong enough for someone who has to deal with such human depravity day in and day out. But, God, he was so...so attractive and charming. By God, if there was one thing I knew, it was I wanted him, even if it was just for the sex. Forget any emotional ties. Roll around with him for an evening and get him out of your system. But that's not me either. I'm not into one-night stands. I like to know someone for a while, not to mention the fact I need to like the person, before sharing my bed. Maybe that explains why I haven't slept with anyone in nearly two years. God, has it been that long? My last relationship ended when we mutually decided we were together for all the wrong reasons. We still remain friends. Maybe I should call him, just to talk. Oh, this is ridiculous. I pulled the half smoked cigarette from my purse and contemplated lighting it. Oh what the hell. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed the half can of diet caffeine free Pepsi out of the refrigerator and lit the cigarette. I turned on the television just in time for the weekend weather forecast. The next few days called for thunderstorms with the possibility of sudden downpours. Great, the weather-head just described my life right now! Hey wait a minute! I suddenly remembered the thunder rolling, shaking Murphy's and causing the lights to flicker. Maybe it was a sign! What was it I said? Oh yeah, "I'm staying, at least until this storm blows over." Maybe Detective Goren is my personal storm. Right then and there, I decided I was going to stay until my storm blows over, damn it! What was I worried about anyway? He asked me to stop and talk to him the next time I saw him in Carmine's. It's not like I'm going to rush out and register for china! Storms don't last forever. Sometimes they lead to the most glorious clear days one could imagine. I snuffed out the cigarette, drained the rest of the flat Pepsi and headed to bed. I sighed with relief.

Robert Goren paced back and forth in front of his television listening to the weather forecast. "Great, thunderstorms and rain. I hate making the drive to Carmel Ridge in lousy weather," he thought. He was also thinking about the woman he met tonight. With some hesitation, he wrote her name down in his brown notebook. "What an unusual name," he thought. He felt a twinge of guilt knowing tomorrow he would run her name through the department's database. "I can't help it. It's what I do. I doubt she has a record. After all, she's a friend with a police officer. But still, it's a compulsion I have. It's what I do," he thought. He just wanted to know where she lives, he reasoned. "What is the name of the Real Estate office where she works? "Goren, you are way off your game," he thought. He turned off the television and sat in silence. An hour later he rose and made another entry: Elliot Chase - Hughes Real Estate.

"How long have you been here?" Detective Eames said to her partner, eying the empty coffee cup. "Since around six, I couldn't sleep. Uh...the storm kept me up," was his reply. "Storms and dreams," he thought. "What are you doing?" asked Eames. "Oh, I promised a poker buddy I'd run a background check on someone he wants to conduct business with, that's all." What he didn't tell her was how he sat for over an hour debating with himself on whether to run the check or not. "Find anything?" "Not yet. Looks like she's...uh he's clean," he stammered. "I'm getting some coffee, do you want another cup?" Eames asked. "Uh sure, thanks." While his partner was getting the coffee, Goren typed in the name and punched in a few more codes. Finally the computer screen flashed in front of his eyes and what he read caused his stomach to churn. He quickly printed a report and shut down the computer. Eames returned with the coffee. "Did you find something?" she asked. "Uh...just some minor incident when he was nineteen. Nothing serious," Goren answered, slipping the report into his front pocket. Detective Eames shrugged her shoulders. She wanted to ask if there was something wrong, but thought better of it. Detective Eames learned a long time ago that her partner's inability to get a good night's sleep makes him more pensive than usual. She let it slide. "You willing to get some work done?" she asked cheerfully. "Uh, sure. Hand me that blue folder," he replied.

The weather-head was right. Thunder rumbled, waking me from a very sound sleep. The little green numbers on the nightstand read 6 o'clock. I could lie there another half hour, but decided to get out of bed and get ready for work. I had an ulterior motive for getting up a little early. It's Friday, time for a chai latte and Carmine's! What was I going to wear? I pulled out my brown trousers, beige turtleneck sweater and brown boots. I decided on plain gold earrings and bracelet. I was going for the understated look today. It wasn't raining when I left my apartment and headed up the block to Carmine's. Carmine's was pretty empty this Friday morning. There were only three people in front of me in line as I approached the counter. "I'll take a Vanilla decaf and a plain bagel with cream cheese," I said to the counter person. I paid and moved to an empty booth. It was only 7:30 and I knew I had fifteen minutes to meander, waiting for Detective Goren to show. By eight o'clock he hadn't and I was going to be late for work. So what?

By the time I arrived at the office, Gina was waiting for me at my desk. "Look what I have," she said waving a small white card. "What is that?" I asked. "Well, it just happens to be a business card from one DETECTIVE GOREN, if you must know," Gina said. "What?" I asked. "Look, it's his business card. Derrick left it on top of the dresser along with the rest of the stuff he dumps out. Before Derrick knows it's missing we're going to make a copy for you," Gina said. "What?" I asked. Gina answered, "look, it has his work and pager number. I just thought you might be interested in both, just in case. Not that I think something could happen but, who you gonna call, 911 or your Hunk Detective?" "You don't think Derrick will notice if it's missing?" I asked. "Nah, I'll just tell him it fell and landed behind the dresser. In one day, he won't even notice it's gone." Gina looked conspiratorial. Good! She finally understands! "Well spill it! Tell me about him," Gina continued. "First, did Derrick say anything about me?" I asked. "He mentioned your flirting. But I told him it was a female thing and he wouldn't understand," Gina said. "Good. Well, what can I say about the clothes? He must spend a small fortune on them. I didn't realize he was so tall until I stood next to him. His hands are broad with long slender fingers. I think he's one of a few men that can carry off facial stubble. His voice, well this sounds so clichéd, but it sounds velvety smooth, but strong. He talks in a low whisper most of the time, almost mumbles. There is something very commanding about it too," I replied. "But, what's he like?" asked Gina. "I'm getting to that. Bishop was right. He notices things most people wouldn't. Sounds very well educated. He's polite. He stood when I left the table and helped me with my raincoat. He's traveled in Europe and Asia. Chinese cooking is a favorite of his and he likes to read and runs on a treadmill while reading Smithsonian Magazine. He lives in the Stanton Apartments He just oozes sex appeal and charm...he's like this total package of a man," I finished. "Um, sounds a little too perfect. There has to be something wrong with him, probably has a three inch dick," Gina said. "Gina!" I laughed. "Well, I had to come up with something," Gina replied. "Well, he is a cop. But I'm willing to overlook that for now. And I'm sure he has a few more flaws. Who doesn't?" I answered. I briefly tried to explain to Gina my sudden willingness to overlook his line of work. "Oh, he plays poker, I bet he's good at it too," I finished. "You wanna challenge him to a game of strip?" asked Gina. "You read my mind," I laughed.

"You are a son of a bitch," Goren spoke softly to his reflection. After taking a few bites of his lunch, he entered the men's room and splashed cool water on his face. "Am I trying to absolve my guilt over snooping around in someone's life? Probably," he thought. "Why did you have to go and do something like that? This woman didn't do anything to you but be pleasant and interested in you. Just because you have this need to control everything and God help me, other people? Shit, you're hopeless. No wonder you're lonely," he continued his conversation with the mirror. "You've let you're recent experiences with psychological disturbed women convince you that any woman except Eames might be your next suspect. Trying to convince himself he could absolve some of his guilt, he would plan somehow to make it up to this woman. "On the other hand, she'll never know I went prying into her life," he thought. "No, you need to take care of this. Clear your conscious and move on. Maybe the dreams will stop," he said out loud. Just then, Captain Deakins walked in. ""Detective, you ok?" he asked. "Uh...sure. I'm just thinking out loud," he replied. "I see from the roster, you signed in at six this morning. Why don't you knock off about three," Deakins continued. "Thanks, I think I will," Goren said flatly. "But I still want you on call, ok?" added Deakins. "Sure," Goren said leaving the men's room. Once outside the door, he decided on a plan.

Except for a few agents taking calls, the office is pretty slow on Fridays. There was filing to be done so I decided to tackle that chore after lunch. At one o'clock, Jack Hughes the owner of the office appeared up front. Jack Hughes is my uncle. He's the reason I work at the office. He offered me part-time work during the summer years ago and it finally turned into a full time career. I run the office for my uncle. He is a jovial guy, loves Scotch, the Yankees and his wife of forty-five years. He's made a good living in real estate and likes to share his largesse. "Ladies, today is my wife's birthday. I plan to spend the afternoon with her. I'm closing the office at two, you can leave at three," he announced. Well that's my Uncle Jack. Oops, I need a card for Aunt Margie. I whispered to Gina that I was going to slip out and get a card. "No need for that," Gina said pulling out a box of cards from her desk drawer. In the box were cards for every occasion. Gina said, "I keep these around because I can't always stop and pick up cards. I can mail them from here too. No need to find a mailbox." Why didn't I think of that? I chose an appropriate card, signed it with love and walked down the hall to deliver it to my uncle. "Tell Aunt Margie I'll call her this weekend. I'd like to take her to lunch sometime soon," I told him. It was time to tackle the mess in the filing cabinet. I seem to be the only one who knows any reasonable filing system. I don't know how things get so messed up. Our real estate agents deal with million dollar figures, loans and transactions, but they don't understand the alphabet? Go figure! I was half way through the B's when my mind started to wander. Detective Goren and I are walking down the street toward my apartment building. We are headed back from a stroll around the neighborhood. He looks so incredibly sexy in his jeans, black turtleneck sweater and black leather coat. I noticed all the women starring at us as we walked by. I felt pretty sure of my self with this sexy man at my side. I took his hand in mine and he smiled. This is it. We've arrived at my building. The doorman nods. And we tell him we're going to stand outside for a little bit longer. He retreats back inside the vestibule. I start breathing harder trying to get the nerve to invite Goren up to my apartment. He suddenly pushes me against the brick wall of the building and covers my mouth with his. I respond gladly. I gently run my tongue across his lower lip. He moans his approval. He returns the favor. I love the sensation and my heart starts beating faster. Yes, he will be invited up. The space between us narrows. I draw him closer for I long to feel his body pressed against mine. More kisses, this time they become little flicks, teasing each other's tongues. He nudges his thigh between my legs. I moan. The kisses become slower and deeper. His hands are already up inside my sweater and his fingers run across the satin of my bra. His thumbs roll lazily across my aroused nipples. I rock gently against his thigh. God, he's going to make me come right here. God, I'm standing outside my building. I hear someone calling my name but it isn't him, it's the doorman. Please Ms. Chase, you're bothering the other tenants. Ms. Chase... Ms. Chase...Ms. Chase... "Oh, Ms. Chase, you have a phone call," I heard Gina say mockingly. "Me? Who would be calling me?" I wondered noticing at the same time my underwear was a little wet. I took the phone from Gina's hand as she silently mouthed, "it's a man."

"Hello? This is Ms. Chase," I answered. "This is Robert Goren. What time do you get off work?" said the voice over the phone. I waved Gina out of her chair and sat down. "Uh...Detective Goren? I...the, the office closes at five, but today we're closing at three," I managed to reply. "That's even better. I was wondering if you would like to meet somewhere, so we could talk," he continued. "I suppose that would be fine. Where did you have in mind?" I asked. "Well, I have the afternoon off and I'm heading home. How about if I meet you at Carmine's, say around four?" "That would be fine," I said. "Oh, do you have a cell phone? I'm on call, so just in case I have to cancel, I want to get a hold of you," he added. I gave him my number and told him I'd be there at four. "Thanks, I'll see you later," he said hanging up the phone. I just sat there with the receiver dangling in my hand. Gina looked puzzled. "That...was Detective Goren. He...wants to meet at Carmine's this afternoon!" I stuttered. "Girl, you got a date!" Gina squealed. "I can't...figure out...I wouldn't call it a date. He said he wanted to talk to me. Does that qualify a date? What would he want to talk to me about?" I said. "Well, he called and asked you out. Sounds like a date to me," said Gina. "I don't remember telling him where I worked," I said. "Maybe Derrick told him," replied Gina. "Yeah, that's possible. I did leave the table twice. You're probably right. All he had to do was look up the number," I answered. Did he look anything else up? "No matter what, you've got a date and I think you need to go home and change clothes," Gina said. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" I asked. "Nothing, not if you're working. But you look...uh boring. What if he decides to take you to a club or something?" she continued. "We're meeting at Carmine's for Pete's sake. I doubt it will lead to anything more," I answered. Gina went on, "you need to show off your assets more, is all I'm saying. Take that turtleneck off and put something on with a little more pizzazz." I was so confused. Not two minutes ago, I was daydreaming about this man, having sex with this man, and now I'm meeting him in less than two hours! Oh God, does he have psychic abilities? Oh Lord, Gina is right. Maybe I should go home and change, at least touch up my makeup. My stomach started to flip-flop. I started to sweat. Ok, I can do this. "Gina, what do you think about my red V-neck sweater with jeans?" I asked. "Ooh, and wear the red heels," is all Gina said.

Yes, Detective Goren had decided on a plan. It was a simple one too. He was going to confront this woman with the truth. No confront wasn't the right word. He was going to discuss the truth with this woman. No, he was going to confess to this woman, this woman who invades his sleep. No games, no manipulation, no head games. He was going to be truthful with this woman. "God only knows how she'll react, but that's a chance I have to take," Goren thought. He pulled the folded police report from his pocket and committed the key points to memory.

I didn't get much work done after the phone call. I was excited, but I was also terribly nervous. Gina took over the filing duties and I just sat there and watched the clock. I finally broke the silence and asked Gina, "do you think...you don't think he?" Gina looked up and said "what?" "Oh never mind. I'm just thinking of reasons why he wants to talk to me," I replied. "Maybe he wants to talk to you because he finds you attractive and nice to be around. Did you ever think he might be interested in you?" said Gina. "I suppose. But it all feels so strange. One week ago I see this man in Carmine's, the park, in my fantasies and dreams, and finally at dinner last night. And then today he calls! Don't you find that the least bit odd?" I replied. "Maybe its fate," she said. "Well whatever happens, happens," I said. I'm about to find out if I can ride out this storm named Robert Goren. Three o'clock finally arrived and I asked Gina to wish me luck. "Have a good time and call me," Gina laughed. I was half way down the block when I remembered my car was still parked in the office lot. I ran back to retrieve it and drove it to the garage. Good, I still had forty minutes to get ready. I washed my face, applied new makeup, touched up my hair and gargled with mouthwash. I pulled on my jeans and red V-neck sweater. Gina was right. I needed a little pizzazz. The sweater is low cut, revealing just enough to lend interest. I dabbed on a little perfume. If he calls to cancel now, I'll kill him! I stayed with the gold earrings and bracelet. I stepped into the red heels and noticed I had five minutes to get to Carmine's. Although the rain had stopped, I threw my raincoat over my shoulders. I exited my apartment building and took a deep breath.

He spotted her as soon as she left her building, this tall breath of fresh air in his stale life. He liked what he saw, this woman in a red sweater with her black raincoat tossed casually over her shoulders. He liked the fact she was tall, around 5'8'' he estimated. He liked tall women. She wasn't rail thin either. He liked a woman with some meat on her bones. She had curves where a woman should have curves. Her blonde hair highlighted with gold strands was short, cut just above her jaw line. He liked the way her hair moved when she walked or turned her head. She styled it to frame her flawless complexion. She wouldn't be considered beautiful or striking by most, but he saw a pretty woman. He saw a pretty, honest face. She wore just enough makeup to highlight her features. Maybe it was that simplicity and honesty he found attractive. Maybe it was the eyes. She had the darkest green eyes he'd ever seen. He had hoped she wasn't wearing tinted contact lenses. He was also hoping that she would forgive him. Robert Goren took a deep breath.

The moment of truth! "Hi detective," I said. "Hi, it's nice to see you again," he replied. Don't faint! He held the door open as we entered Carmine's. "Thanks," I whispered, not remembering the last time a man held a door for me. "Why don't you get us a booth and I'll order. What would you like?" he asked. "Um, I'm thirsty. I'll take a raspberry iced tea please." I took a seat at the same booth he occupied the first time I saw him. I was trying to keep my knees from knocking and my hands from sweating. He approached with two large styrofoam cups of iced tea and placed them on the table. He just stood by the table and started to rock back and forth on his heels. "Aren't you going to sit down?" I asked. "Uh...would you mind...sitting on the other side of the booth?" he asked. "Why?" looking at him. "Uh...I don't...like to sit with my back to the door," was his reply. I smiled at him and announced, "I don't either." I think it surprised him a little. I scooted over, patted the seat and said, "sit down." I scooted over some more. I was practically wedged in to the corner of the booth. He smiled and sat down saying, "its my line of work. What's your problem?" "Too many Godfather movies, I guess," I laughed. He smiled and I relaxed a little bit. So far, so good.

Goren relaxed a little too. He enjoyed this woman's company. He enjoyed her honesty and that she didn't give into his little request. He liked sitting beside her. He also liked the red V-neck sweater and the light perfume she was wearing. "Keep your mind on why you're here," Goren reminded himself. "You know, I'm a little intrigued by your name. Elliot is an unusual name for a woman. I suppose your parent's were fans of the poet t. s. eliot?" Goren asked. I shook my head and answered, "no, Ness." He looked at me puzzled. "Eliot Ness from the TV show, The Untouchables," I answered. He just stared at me. "No, no, I'm kidding. Actually my mother had this aunt who offered her $10,000 to name the new baby Elliot, after the son she lost in Korea. Boy or girl it didn't matter. That was a lot of money in 1962. I was called Ellie most of the time, but now people know me as Elliot. I think Elliot Chase sounds like the name of a character in a romance novel," I finished. Goren smiled and said, "I wouldn't know about that. I don't read romance novels." "Elliot Breckenridge wasn't much better though. Breckenridge was my married name. I took my maiden name back after the divorce," I added. You're babbling. Slow down. "Well, I think Elliot Chase is a nice name and makes for a good story," Goren said. "One I get tired of retelling," I said a little too harshly. There was that uncomfortable silence when two people don't know how to proceed in conversation. I took a sip of my tea and Goren rested his chin in his right hand. God, those hands. I shivered. "I think I drank my tea too fast," I said as he looked at me. Our eyes locked. And I saw it. In the bright light of Carmine's I saw those dark brown eyes filled with that dark sadness ever so present in their eyes, cop's eyes. Oh it was there all right but was darker than most I'd seen. What deeper pain does this man hide behind those eyes? The intensity was so profound I had to look away.

I fidgeted in my seat and finally spoke. "You know you said on the phone that you wanted to talk to me. What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked. "Oh god, here it comes," Goren thought. "What did you want to talk to me about?" I repeated. Goren cleared his throat and started out by saying, "last night I realized how much I enjoyed meeting you. But I did something that I now regret." What on earth are you talking about? "You didn't say or do anything to me last night that would warrant regret," I tried to assure him. "It wasn't last night, it was this morning." He began wringing his hands, twisting his fingers as he spoke, "I did some research, and I ran...a..." I cut him off. Son of a Bitch! "Oh, God. You ran a background check on me didn't you? Son of a bitch," I whispered. Detective Goren just sat there with his hands over his mouth. I think he was holding his breath. I didn't say another word and he exhaled. "Look, I'm sorry I did that. I had no right to pry," he murmured. Oh, God. He turned, facing me and said. "Listen to me. Please don't interrupt. I have to say this now...without any interruptions. When I saw you last week, standing in that line, I saw an attractive woman. I also thought I saw you making a mad dash out of the grocery store last Saturday. Imagine my surprise when I met you last night. I found you even more attractive after I talked to you. And I decided I wanted to see you again. But I screwed things up by succumbing to my overwhelming desire to know things...know about people. It's a compulsion. I reasoned I only wanted to know where you live. I spent an hour trying to recall the name of the Real Estate office Derrick said you worked for. I spent over an hour this morning trying to decide whether or not to run your name through the computers. I...regret my decision now. When I read what happened to you, I felt sick. Sick about what happened and then sick because I knew this about you without your knowledge. It isn't fair to you. I called you because I wanted to tell you what I did, up front, honestly, with no head games. I play with people's minds all the time...and I didn't want to do that with you. I could have played games and eventually drawn it out of you, but you don't deserve that. I'm...so sorry. I hope you...appreciate my honesty and accept my apology," he said wearily. I didn't know what to think or say. He rose to buy another iced tea. He left me an out. I needed something stronger than tea. Cops!!! Part of me wanted to scratch his eyes out. Part of me wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him it was ok. I sat there thinking how hard it must have been for him to admit all this. I also sat there wondering if he was really all that sincere. How could I be sure he wasn't playing mind games with me? Something inside told me to trust him and take his word. He slid back into the booth. "It's my turn to be honest. First of all, I'm angry and confused. I'm angry with you for prying into my background. Any rational woman would run right out that door. But I'm confused to why I'm not running for the door. Secondly, I don't need your pity Detective. I've recovered physically and emotionally. I don't know what else to say," I told him. He nodded in agreement and said, "I can appreciate what you're saying. I'll give you time to think things over." He slid out of the booth and walked toward the door. "Wait for me. Would you mind if we went for a walk?" I asked.

We walked in silence, he with his hands clasped behind his back and me with my hands stuffed in the pockets of my raincoat. I felt the folded piece of paper. Uh oh. Uh oh is right. Who do you think you are, Miss High and Mighty? Who are you to be so upset with what this man just confessed? You have a copy of his business card in your pocket for cripes sake. You wanted to follow him! Admit it. You would have done the same thing if you could. I'll give him points for admitting it and then apologizing. Did he tell me he found me attractive and wanted to get to know me? I'll give him even more points for that! We walked several blocks and found ourselves at the entrance to the park. "Come on, lets go sit down," I said leading him to a bench. "I guess this a day for confessing. I have something to tell you too. Last week when I noticed you sitting in Carmine's...well I found you attractive too. I didn't mean to stare. There is, uh something about you. While standing in line, I was trying to figure out what you did for a living. I never figured you for a cop!" I told him. "Is that so?" he asked. "There's more," I answered, pulling out the folded sheet of paper. "What's that?" he asked. "This is kind of embarrassing, but I made a copy of your business card you gave Derrick. I was stupid to think that this would be some sort of link to you. God, it sounds so juvenile now. I couldn't get you out of my head. Don't mention the dreams. He'll think you're really nuts. When I met you last night, well I really freaked," I replied. He didn't say anything. "Have I scared you now?" I asked him. "No, not at all," he laughed. "Good, because I want to see if...you and...I...might, you know," I couldn't get the words out. "I think this could be a good way to start off, with a clean slate, don't you think? Let's start over and you can start by calling me Robert," he answered. I nodded my head and smiled. I felt so relieved. I had just weathered the storm named Robert Goren. It began to rain, lightly at first and then a little harder. I had been in such a hurry this afternoon I forgot to grab my umbrella. I could throw the hood up on my raincoat, but Goren's head was unprotected. We looked around for shelter and I noticed the building adjacent to the park. "Quick, over there. We can stand in the doorway," I said. We stood in the doorway of the vacant building watching streams of water pouring from the broken gutter. We had to wedge closer to the door leaving very little space between us. I looked at Goren. The beads of rain loosened his curls. One stray curl centered itself in the middle of his forehead. I wanted so much to reach up and sweep it aside. Oh, what the hell! I threw caution to the wind and reached up to brush that errant curl. His reaction stunned me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me. Kissed me long and soft, fully on the lips. I wrapped my arms around his waist drowning in his kiss. He broke away and looked me in the eyes. "Those are the most incredible green eyes I've ever seen," he whispered. I smiled and said, "thanks." We stood locked in each other's arms waiting. We didn't speak. We just stood there, enjoying the warmth of each other. Here's to a clean slate!

I heard ringing. Wedding bells? It's his cell phone you idiot. Shit. We separated so he could reach into his pocket and answer. "Goren. Do we have to go out? Oh, good. No, I'm fine, couldn't be better actually," he said smiling at me. He paused and listened to the other voice on the phone. "Actually I'm standing in some doorway trying to stay dry. I'll be ok, and thanks for calling," he closed the phone. "My partner. She could tell something was on my mind earlier today. She wanted to know if I was all right since I left early," he answered my silent question. "She worries about you?" I asked. "Yes, yes she does. I like that about her. She has a knack for reeling me in if I go out too far," he replied. "Sounds like a good person," I told him. "Yes she is. I'll have to make it up, my leaving early, to her somehow." Out too far? "Do you get carried away when working a case?" I asked. He rubbed his chin and said, "yes, yes on occasion." Oh. There was that awkward moment again. The rain had stopped and now we stood in silence. I kissed his cheek then took his hand and said, "no police talk tonight. I'm getting hungry. Lets get something to eat. I know a place that serves great pizza." We rounded the corner on the way to Michael's. It is known for its outstanding pizza dripping with cheese atop homemade yeast crust. Michael's doesn't believe in gourmet pizza. This time my phone rang. "Hello, Gina? That's ok. Really? That's great. I'm so happy for you two. I will...yes, we're on our way to Michael's. Give Derrick a hug for me. I'll talk to you later," I said smiling. I turned to Goren and told him Derrick passed his Sergeant's exam. "Good for him," he replied. "Yeah, let's celebrate," I said. Michael's is the typical pizzeria decked out with red and white checked tabletops, Chianti bottles with candles stuck in their necks and containers of grated cheeses sit on each table. The lighting is low and the aromas emanating from the wood burning pizza ovens, instantly puts patrons in a relaxed mood. We took a table in the back and sat where we could both see the door. "This is my treat tonight," I said. "No, you don't have to buy my meal," Goren replied. "I want to. Besides it was my idea to get something to eat. Don't argue with me, ok?" I laughed. Goren raised his hands in surrender and agreed I would pay for dinner. We decided on the medium pepperoni, mushroom with extra cheese pizza. I ordered a glass of Chianti. Goren ordered a cola saying, "I'm on call for at least another hour. Maybe I'll have some wine later." "I know it's not very healthy, our meal I mean, but I need comfort food when the weather is like this," I laughed. He nodded in agreement. We talked about how bad our eating habits are at times. "I can't believe how much I've eaten and drank this week. It's unusual for me. If the weather permits, I'll try to get out and walk off some of the excess," I commented mindlessly. Goren spoke up, "speaking of tomorrow, I have to take care of some business, but I'll be home later in the afternoon. What do you say we plan something?" Are you kidding? "What did you have in mind?" I asked knowing full well what I had in mind. "There's a documentary film festival at the Vantage this weekend," he answered. Is he serious? I just looked at him. "Bad idea Goren," he thought. "How do you like to spend your weekends?" Goren asked. In bed with someone like you? "Well, I like to shop around for antiques and collectibles. I like to browse through used bookstores," I said. His eyes lit up when I mentioned the bookstores. "We could do that. Do you have a favorite place?" "Yes, there's one about two miles from here. We'll take my car. Maybe we can drive out of the city after that," I said. "Ok, that sounds fine."

Our pizza arrived and we attacked it. We were pretty silent as we ate. His hands handled the gooey thick slices quite nicely. Oh those hands. I smiled. "You're smiling. What's so amusing?" he asked. Uh, oh. "I...was...I was thinking of that kiss back there," I uttered. "You didn't mind?" he asked. I could feel my neck redden. "I didn't protest did I?" "No, no you didn't and I'm glad." I was losing my appetite. My stomach started to knot. I felt like I was inside one of Michael's ovens. After taking two more bites of my pizza, I said, "I'll be right back." Retreating to the ladies room I caught my breath. I dampened some paper towels and dabbed my neck. Stop acting like a fool. You're a grown woman. While I was gone, he had removed his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "I hope you don't mind, I decided to have that glass of wine," he said as he held my chair for me. "Not at all. I think I'll take another one too." He leaned back in his chair looking totally comfortable in these surroundings. This man is...so...oh, so...

I smiled and said, "Tell me about Robert Goren, and not about work or the Army. Tell me about your family." I thought I noticed him flinch ever so slightly. "Well...uh, my father is gone, died a few years ago. My parents were divorced when I was eleven and I didn't spend a lot of time with him. My m...m...mother, uh...she lives outside the city and is...in poor health. That's the business I have to attend to tomorrow. I visit her once a week," he replied quietly. Suddenly he didn't seem so comfortable. "Any brothers or sisters?" I asked. "An older brother. Last time I heard, he was living in St. Louis. We aren't close..." I suddenly felt uncomfortable. "I don't have family either. Both my parents have been gone for years. I have an aunt living in Indiana that I'm still close to, but that's it. I lost another family after my divorce," I added. As if on cue, our eyes locked. "Thank God for friends then. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories," I whispered. He said nothing, and took my hand. Say something, anything. I finally broke the silence, "I like to collect old jewelry." "Oh, so that's what you collect. Do you have any interesting pieces?" he asked. "Most of it is costume, nothing worth much. Things are harder to come by unless you go to the online auctions. Most of the pieces online sell for more than I'm willing to pay. I'll wear one of my favorites for you tomorrow." Robert Goren's spirits lifted. "That's a nice thing for her to do," he thought. He spoke out loud, "I wouldn't mind seeing all of them." I laughed out loud and said, "Is that anything like, wanna come up and see my etchings?" "Maybe," he laughed. "Robert, if I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?" Settling his chin in his hand he said, "Go ahead." "This...is the first time...I've had anything resembling a date since, well, who's the President? I'm glad you called this afternoon." "Bush...the son. And it feels that long for me too. I'm glad I called too, even if it meant risking never seeing you..." his voice trailed off. "Ah, don't feel like that. We're starting over with a clean slate remember? And thanks for not laughing, "I said. He asked me, "Do you get tired of living alone. Do you get lonely?" I thought some before I answered. "I think there's a difference between being alone and being lonely. I guess I've always been somewhat of a loner. I don't mind it that much. There are some advantages to being alone. I can pretty much do what I want when I want. The downside is Holidays. I get lonely then. Sometimes I get lonely going home to an empty apartment, not having someone to talk to or cook for, but I manage," I answered. "Yeah, I do understand that," he whispered. "Have you ever been married?" I asked. "No. I never thought I'd make a good husband. I didn't have a very good role model. There were, uh...other reasons too. I've spent most of my adult life living alone," he replied. "What other things?" I asked. There was another slight flinch. "Oh...uh, my career in the Army, my work on the force...things like that," he said quietly. He looked away. More silence. "Hey, when's the last time you had a good home cooked meal?" I asked. "I can't remember." "Let me fix you dinner tomorrow night. I haven't cooked for anyone in ages. Let me fix you dinner, something special," I replied. "Uh, I don't know." "Look, I want to cook, I have to eat, you might as well join me. If you're a good boy and eat all your vegetables, I might let you look at my jewelry collection," I smiled. "Someone wants to cook for me. That would be a pleasant change," he thought. "I accept." "I can fix dinner after we get back from the bookstore," I added.

It started raining as we left Michael's. "We probably should get a cab. Unless there are plenty of doorways we can take shelter," he whispered. "The doorways sound inviting, but I'm tired of getting rained on," I replied. We climbed into the cab. He placed his hand on my knee and I held on to his arm. The cab ride was over too soon. Before I knew it, the taxi had stopped in front of my apartment building. He told the taxi to wait as he walked me up to the front door. What?? Wait? There is no doorman. That was just a figment of my over active imagination. I typed in my entry code and we entered. We stood by the elevator waiting. "I'll ride up with you, he said. I was having mixed thoughts. I wanted this man to stay, but I still was uneasy about sleeping with him so soon. The doors opened to the third floor and we headed to my apartment. "I...had a nice time tonight Robert. I'm looking forward to tomorrow," I said. "Me too." He pulled me into his arms and kissed me hungrily. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I returned his kiss. He left my mouth and kissed the soft curve of my neck. I moaned and lifted his head back to my lips, eager to explore his mouth once again. He finally withdrew and uttered, "uh, the taxi is still downstairs. I...think I should leave. I have to get up early." "Ok,...it's ok..." I whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow around three," he replied. He brushed my cheek with another kiss and turned toward the elevator. I love to watch him walk. The elevator doors closed and he was gone. Why didn't you ask him to stay? "Because as much as you want this man, maybe you're not ready. And I don't want to seem too easy," I said out loud. Maybe tomorrow.

Robert Goren so wanted to be invited to stay. He also knew he could have asked, but then his intuition told him he didn't want to pressure her if she wasn't ready. "You have to think of the other person sometimes. It's not always about your need or want," he told himself. He liked her. He was willing to wait for her. "There is tomorrow," he thought. His heart quickened. It also saddened when he remembered his first task of tomorrow. His mother was more distant and lethargic than ever. He wondered if she even knew who he was. He would talk with the doctor to question the new medication. "Was it the medication or her illness making its final assault on her?" he thought. Goren rambled around his empty apartment thinking of his day with Elliot. His spirits lifted at the thought of her making him dinner. It has been a long time since someone fussed over him. Eva, the waitress fussed over him, but this is different. He smiled to himself and picked up the phone.

I wanted to call Gina, but I knew she and Derrick were probably celebrating and I didn't want to disturb them. I needed to make plans for tomorrow anyway. Making a list of things I needed for dinner would take my mind off of this afternoon and evening. I smiled as I remembered the kisses. I enjoyed this man's company. I was looking forward to tomorrow afternoon. I promised to make him dinner, now what was I going to fix? I didn't want something too complicated, but I didn't want anything too simple either. Then I remembered a recipe Ellen gave me, seared salmon fillets with habanero citrus sauce. I'd make the regular dill dressing just in case he didn't like the habanero sauce. All I need is a salad, a vegetable. Maybe fresh steamed asparagus with toasted almonds and diced new red potatoes with parsley. Add some French bread and lemon yogurt with raspberry swirls for dessert. Whoa, slow down girl. I thought that might be a little too much. I thought about it some more and decided on a roasted chicken with potatoes and carrots. I could still go with a salad, the bread and dessert. Now that's what I call a home cooked meal. The chicken can cook while we're out. I'll save the other dinner for another time, if there is one. I made my grocery list and picked up the mess in my apartment. Put fresh linens on the bed tomorrow. I was still wired so I decided to dust and vacuum the place. Around eleven I was exhausted and went to bed. My heart caught in my throat when the phone rang. Phone calls late at night usually meant bad news. On the other line was Robert. He said he was thinking about me and just called to tell me goodnight. I returned the sentiment and thanked him. Now, how was I supposed to get any sleep? Sleep finally took hold while I was thinking of which piece of jewelry I would wear for him tomorrow.

Saturday started gloomy. Raindrops pelted the windows. Oh, shopping will be fun in this weather. I slid out of bed and stripped the linens. I put on fresh sheets and placed a sachet of vanilla scented potpourri under the pillows. Flowers would be nice on the nightstand. I dressed for the weather and headed for the grocery. With an armload of groceries, I entered my apartment drenched. I was chilled. I wanted to take a nice hot bath, but I had to ready some of the food for tonight. I prepared the salad and put it in a covered bowl in the fridge. Next I made the dessert. I rubbed the chicken with seasoning and placed it in the refrigerator to marinate. I peeled the carrots and potatoes. The rosemary and basil were chopped for the cream sauce. I arranged the bouquet of white roses in my grandmother's vase. When I entered my bedroom with the flowers, the room reeked of vanilla. Way too much. I pulled the sachets from under the pillows and cracked open the window. Ah...now for that bath. The rest of the morning I soaked, shampooed and shaved. I loofahed, masked, moisturized and manicured. I was plucked, powdered and perfumed. I was carrying my routine to the extreme. I dragged out the dusty makeup mirror from under the sink. I took my time applying my makeup. I unwrapped the pink lacy bra with matching panties from Leah's. For all the cheesy items displayed in the window, Leah's does stock some more sedate, prettier items for the more modest. On impulse I stopped there on the way home from the grocery. I stood in front of my closet, choosing outfit after outfit finally deciding on the amber jacket over a crisp white blouse with jeans. The brooch I chose was feathered shaped with lapis and peridot stones set in bronze filigree. I added peridot earrings for the finishing touch. One o'clock. Now what are you going to do? Condoms! I don't have any condoms! I can't assume he carries them with him. Maybe. I don't have to worry about pregnancy, and I haven't been with anyone in a while, but what about him? I looked outside and noticed the rain had become a light drizzle. I walked over to the pharmacy and perused the selection of condoms. I've never had to buy condoms before and I was a little confused. After about fifteen minutes I finally asked a clerk for some assistance. She recommended her favorite telling me more than I wanted to hear. "But...are they reliable?" I asked. "Oh sure. They're the most popular brand on the market," she said. "Uh...thanks," I replied. On the way to the register, I stopped and picked up a toothbrush.

I put the chicken in the roaster when I got back home. My apartment looked dreary so I lit some scented candles and turned on a lamp. I plumped the pillows on the sofa. I checked my reflection to see if the walk in the rain ruined my makeup and hair. Not that bad. I'll freshen up later, just before he gets here. I poured a glass of wine and tried to relax. I flipped on the television. There was football, football, celebrity poker and a few movies. I stopped on a J Lo movie, ugh. Funny thing, one of the men, the killer, reminded me of someone. I couldn't put my finger on it though. I turned back to the Notre Dame football game. He'll be here in an hour! The phone rang. I jumped, spilling some wine on the rug. I picked up the phone and heard Gina's voice on the other end. "Hold on. I just spilled some wine and I need to get it wiped up," I said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you, but I've been busy today," I told her. I repeated everything that happened since Friday afternoon. All I got from Gina was a lot of oohs, aahs and you go girl. "Look, you take care of that man tonight, and have yourself a good time, you deserve it," she told me. "I plan to, thanks," I replied. I hung up the phone. I fixed my hair and touched up my makeup. Fifteen minutes to...the phone rang. I jumped again, this time poking myself in the eye with my liner pencil. With one teary eye I picked up the phone. "Elliot, it's Robert. Look, I'm sorry, but I can't make it." What? Shit! I didn't hear the rest of the sentence. "Are you there? Look, I wanted to speak with mother's doctor and it took longer than expected. I won't be able to make it back by three," he continued. "Oh, I...thought, oh never mind. I was a little distracted...by the fact I just poked myself in the eye with my eyeliner pencil," I said trying to recover. "Are you ok?" "Yes, it isn't serious, just stupid," I laughed. "I'll try to be there by five. Is that ok?" "Sure. We can skip the bookstore. The weather's lousy anyway. Maybe we can just stay in," I replied. "I'll see soon, bye," he said disconnecting. I sighed with relief. My eye was no longer watering so I started over with the makeup. I poured another glass of wine and threw the vegetables in with the chicken. Since we weren't going out, I ditched the jacket and threw on my favorite navy blue sweater, pinning the brooch where the neckline makes a V. I hope he likes this.

At exactly five o'clock I heard the buzzer telling me someone wanted in the building. "Yes?" I asked. "Elliot, its Robert, I'm downstairs," came the scratchy reply. "Come on up." My stomach had butterflies and my neck was turning hot. Calm down! My doorbell rang and I looked out the peephole and saw him standing there. His hair was wet and he looked tired, burdened. When I opened the door his expression lightened slightly. "I didn't know what we were eating so I brought a red and a white," he said holding two bottles of wine. He also held a bouquet of yellow roses. "Oh, the flowers are so pretty. I love yellow roses. And thanks for bringing the wine," I said. "Something smells wonderful. What's for dinner?" "We're having roasted chicken with carrots and potatoes. Here let me take your coat," I replied. "Uh, do you think I could get a towel?" he pointed to his head. "Sure. The bathroom is right through there," I said, pointing. "Thanks," he grinned. When he returned, his hair had that towel tousled look and was now lying in loose curls. Love that look. "I need some help. Can you reach that vase up there?" "Sure I can get that." When he stretched for the vase, his sweater rose up exposing a bit of a firm muscular stomach. I liked what I saw. "Would you do the honors and open the wine?" I asked, placing the roses in the center of the table. His response threw me off. He placed his hands on my shoulders, turned me around and hugged me. He hugged me tightly and rested his head on my shoulder. He didn't say a word. He hugged me even tighter and I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him back. What's wrong? He lifted his head from my shoulder and lightly kissed my cheek. Suddenly he released me and said, "now, where's that wine?" We decided to start with the red and save the white for dinner. Should I ask about his mother?

"Hey, I like your place. It's comfortable. Can I look around?" he asked moving to the living room. "Sure. It's what you do isn't it?" I answered. He shot me a little grin. He looked like he belonged in my living room. His plum colored sweater blended in with the plum, sage green and gold colors of my furnishings. He started with the bookcases. He scanned my eclectic collection of books, leftovers from my teaching days. He cocked his head when he noticed my complete collection of my Nancy Drew mysteries. "I like your book collection. It has something for everyone," he said. " The Nancy Drew books belonged to my mother. Some of the pages have little notes my mother made about the story. From time to time, I read those pages. It makes me feel connected to her again," I replied. He nodded and said, "that's nice. "I wish I could feel connected to my mother just once," he thought. He moved to the other side of the room and ran his hand over the smooth wood of an old maple desk. "I like this piece." "That belonged to my grandmother," I answered. "You have a lot of family pieces?" he asked. "Yeah, yes I do." He looked with interest at the large painting of a hibiscus bloom. At first, the artwork looks like a simple painting of a tropical flower. But on closer inspection, the shape of the bloom exposes the image of a woman's body. "This...I like. I don't recognize the artist. Where did you get it?" I laughed, "I found it at a flea market and bought it because I liked the vibrant colors. Only after it hung for a few months did I see the actual picture." My phone rang. "Excuse me." I answered the phone and Ellen was on the other line. She asked me if I could talk. "Not really," I answered. I then told her what I was doing. "Oh, I won't keep you then...I had to call to tell you that Paul has left me," she replied. What? She doesn't want to keep me and then unloads that tidbit of information? "Wait," I said. I looked at Robert and told him I had to take the call and wouldn't be long. He nodded his approval, grabbed a book from a shelf, eased himself down in the oversized chair and stretched his long legs on the ottoman. I stayed on the phone just long enough to hear that Paul didn't like being married anymore. He still loved the kids and still loved Ellen, but he didn't want to be married to her. What? After ten minutes of listening to Ellen's plight, I begged off. "I really would like to listen and talk, but I don't like ignoring my guest," I whispered into the phone. "That's okay. I understand. I just needed to talk to someone," she replied sadly. "I'll call tomorrow, I promise," I told her. "I'm sorry. It was a friend in need. My friend Ellen just called to tell me her husband left her," I explained. I really didn't know what to think. I thought they had a good marriage. What the hell happened? I wasn't going to think about it now. I was going to be selfish and indulge myself in this man named Robert Goren.

"How about some more wine?" I asked. "Sure." He started to get out of the chair and I told him to stay put. I returned and sat on the arm of the chair, laying my arm across the back. I ran my hand through his hair. I noticed the book he had in his lap. "Don't you get enough of that stuff at work?" I smiled. He had pulled a crime novel off the bookshelf. "Uh, I don't know. Maybe I just like to read how the authors usually get it wrong," he answered. "Oh, really," I said mockingly. He just laughed. It felt weird sitting here with this man. I felt like we were a long time couple spending just another Saturday night at home. It felt nice. He placed his left hand on my hip and rolled me over onto his lap. My position allowed him to run his hand along the length of my right leg. With his left hand at my waist he pulled me in closer. I looked into those brown eyes and wanted to take away some of that sadness. He leaned his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Placing his face between my hands, I gently kissed him on his eyelids and continued down until I reached his mouth. His lips parted as I gently explored his mouth. A sigh escaped his lips. I finally pulled back and rested my head on his chest. He wrapped both his arms around me and we sat in silence. This feels real nice. The aromas from the kitchen drew me back to the reason I was sitting here with this man. I wriggled free and said, "uh, I...need to get the rest of dinner ready." "Can I help?" he asked. "No. Just sit and take it easy. Read some more of that book," I replied. I walked back to the kitchen and started cooking the sauce for the chicken. It commanded my full attention. I had to stand and constantly stir the damn stuff or it would curdle. I stood there thinking how weird it felt, knowing Paul and Ellen's marriage was probably over. I imagined Paul and Ellen spent many a Saturday night like this. The sauce was ready and I poured into the gravy boat to serve. I thought about Robert's offer to help and decided he could help me carve the chicken. "I could use some help with the chicken," I said from the kitchen. I didn't get a response. Poking my head into the living room I could tell he had fallen asleep. Let him sleep. He looked so tired earlier. I went back to work on our dinner and tried to be as quiet as possible while setting the table. I walked back into the living room and stood looking at him sleep. All the worry and tiredness was drained from his face. I didn't want to wake him. I stood there looking at those incredible long legs, the tapered waist and broad shoulders. I was imagining what that body looked like without the sweater and jeans. I sighed, leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek. "Hey sleepy head, dinner's ready," I said. He stirred and opened his eyes. "God, did I doze off?" he asked. "Just a little bit." He shook his head saying, "God, I'm...uh, sorry." "Don't worry about it. I won't take it personally," I smiled.

"This...is...delicious," Robert said between bites. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it," I replied. I liked it too. I had a busy day and hadn't realized how hungry I was. I liked it too because I was sitting at the table with this incredibly sexy man who enjoyed my cooking. We sat and talked about the weather, the baseball playoffs and the presidential race. I asked about his partner and mentioned to him how I had met Detective Bishop. "She talked about you that night, about working with you I mean," I said. "Oh really? What exactly did she say?" he asked. I didn't want to go into detail so I simply said, "she didn't always agree with your methods." He sat there wringing his fingers. "Uh, well she's not the first to say that. At times I say and do things that others find offensive or uh...at least away from the norm of police procedures. I can be a real smart ass at times. I have this real defined sense of right and wrong, but I also have this keen desire to discover why people do the things they do. I've discovered some people are just plain evil. Those are the easy ones. The others, well there's usually some psychological basis for their crimes. Sometimes there is a physiological component to their thought processes or some suffered some early childhood trauma," he replied. "So you're telling me that you not only like to get the bad guys, but you like to figure out why they're bad?" I asked. "Well, yeah," he answered. "I bet you've met some real...uh, really nasty people." "Oh you'd be amazed at some of what I've had to deal with. It never ceases to amaze me. Detective Eames has worked with me for a while now, and she gets where I'm coming from. I admire her for sticking with and backing me up through some of the rough times. "She reels me in," I think he said. Bishop didn't see it. She's more "by the book" in her investigating. I realize now, I wasn't very nice to her. I...uh, treated her like she was just in my way," he replied. "Well, from what I saw, she wasn't very...uh, personable? Maybe personable is the wrong word," I said. "No, you're right. You have to be able to communicate with witnesses, victims and even suspects with some level of compassion or empathy. I've learned to extract volumes of information from people just by taking the time to talk to them, make them feel at ease, things like that," he replied. "And you have to be as smart or smarter than the criminals," I smiled. He grinned saying, "exactly and Bishop is young, she's smart, she'll figure it out...I hope." "Do you want any more to eat?" I asked. "Oh no, I'm stuffed. I can't eat another bite," he answered. "If it weren't raining, I'd suggest a walk," I told him. I rose and started clearing off the table.

"Here, let me help," he said. He carried his plates and bowls over to the sink. After placing them in the sink, he took my arm and pulled me into another one of those warm, tight hugs. "Thanks," he whispered. "How about helping me with the dishes? I'll put some coffee on and we can clean up while it's brewing. How about having dessert in the living room?" I asked. "Sounds fine," he replied. There was a brief silence and then he said, "you mentioned your divorce yesterday. How long has it been?" "Uh, it's been about three and a half years. It was very unpleasant. Things were going badly, but after the attack...well...I found out what a real prick I was married to," I said. Damn. Why did I have to bring that up? "How...much information did you dig up?" I hesitated. "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand," he replied. "No, no, its ok. I've moved on, I don't mind," I answered. The coffee was ready and I poured two cups and handed them to him. "Here, take these into the living room. I'll bring the dessert," I told him. He slid back into the oversized chair and stretched his legs out the ottoman. "The report, uh, mentioned you were the victim of a beating and that the guilty parties are now in jail," he said as I sat down on the ottoman opposite him. "I didn't read the entire report...I felt, uh, you know," he continued. "Well, it was when I was teaching. I taught senior English. One of my students was on the basketball team. He was considered a "star." Pro scouts were attending games to watch him play. But, he wasn't turning in his assignments and failing. The coach and athletic director tried twisting my arm. They suggested I let him turn in some extra credit work. They wanted me to let him re-take some tests because he had traveled to play and didn't have time to study. I wouldn't back down and I failed him. On my way to my car one afternoon, I was jumped and beaten by two young men. This "star" hired the two to beat me up. The last words I remembered were "we're teaching you a lesson now bitch." I woke up three days later to find my right leg in a cast along with the knowledge I was missing my spleen and a rib. Thank God...I wasn't raped. A co-worker came up on the two and they ran. Two days later Ellen finally told me my surgeries were delayed because the police couldn't find my husband. Turns out he was holed up in a motel with a female co-worker at the time of the attack. He wanted to reconcile, mostly out of guilt, I know now. We did get back together briefly, but he started spending more and more nights "out with the boys." He filed and had the audacity to tell the attorneys that I wasn't there for him, emotionally or physically. On top of that, I had to fight for every cent of alimony. He said I could keep the family junk. The only reason I was awarded the car was the doctors convinced the judge I needed transportation to get around because of injuries sustained to my leg. By the end, I didn't care. I took what I could and started over," I finished, looking down at my cup of coffee. "It looks like you've succeeded," he replied. I smiled and took his hand, "that's a nice thing to say, thanks. I couldn't go back to teaching after that. A lot of people thought that if I didn't, it was admitting defeat. I thought about it for a long time and found that I just couldn't do it. I was in a lot of pain for a long time. The emotional pain was almost as bad as the physical. I just couldn't do it. So I went to work for my uncle," I continued. He nodded his understanding. "So, here I am, recovered and enjoying my life again," I whispered. "I'm glad she told me," Goren thought. He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

His hand touched the brooch pinned to my sweater. "I'm disappointed in you Detective," I said. He cocked his head and said, "what happened to Robert and why are you disappointed?" "This is the first time you mentioned my brooch tonight. I promised to wear one of my favorites, remember? I thought being the super cop that you are, you'd have noticed by now," I teased. "Ah, you're wrong. I noticed, but I was waiting for the right moment to say so," he replied. "I don't believe you." "I don't care. And by the way I think it's lovely. It brings out the color of your eyes. But its what's under that brooch that interests me," he said running his finger down from my throat to the brooch. Oh my. Forget dessert! "Take it off," he demanded. I reached down and undid the clasp and handed him the brooch. He ran his fingers over the stones and held it up to the light. "It is quite nice, but I didn't mean this. I meant, take off your sweater." I knew that! I slowly slipped the sweater over my head. Let's play. "I'll let you take care of the buttons of my blouse," I whispered. He slid his fingers through my hair and planted soft kisses along my neck. "Oh I intend to, but I plan to take my time," he moaned. He pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. He kept kissing my neck while tugging my blouse from the jeans. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through his hair. I was feeling that familiar ache, long hidden away. His hands roamed up and down my back applying light pressure along the way. I had to have those lips on mine. I eased him from my throat and kissed him with a hunger unknown to me. He slipped his hand between us and released one button, then another and another. He pulled away from my kiss and planted soft kisses on my chest, easing lower and lower to the lacy edge of my bra. He moaned as he cupped my right breast in his hand. With his free hand he managed to free the last button of my blouse. He brought that hand to my other breast and gently caressed both. I gasped and squirmed on his lap. "I...can't...sit like this. It hurts...my leg after a...while," I managed. With that he slid out from under me and we were now sitting face to face. "It's... your right leg?" he asked, running his hand down the length of my thigh to my knee. He increased the pressure with each stroke. "That feels...good," I whispered. His left hand was now behind my head and he ran his fingers through my hair. I raised myself up so I could meet his lips. I gently ran my tongue over his lower lip. He moaned his approval and our tongues explored deeper and deeper. I suddenly pulled away and opened my eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked. "I...just, want to make sure...I'm not dreaming," I sighed. He laughed, "I was, uh, thinking the same thing. I can tell you...this...is no dream." Convince me.

"This is a little uncomfortable," I said wriggling out of the chair. I blew out the candles, flicked of the lamp and took his hand. "If you like this, I said waving my hand around referring to the living room, wait until you see the bedroom." Although color abounds in most of my apartment, the bedroom is subdued. My big mahogany four-poster bed, covered in a white coverlet and matching pillow shams anchors the room. An armoire of the same rich wood stands in the corner flanking the window draped in black and white toile fabric. The same fabric covers small pillows on the bed. Near the door, there sits an old wingback chair upholstered in a tiny yellow and white print. The walls are painted a soft, butter-cream yellow that changes with the sunlight. Black and white prints of the Eiffel Tower and Paris street scenes adorn the walls. Vintage black wrought iron lamps with white chenille shades sit on the two nightstands aside the bed. Green leaves of a small bouquet of white roses and a silk palm fern lends the only other color. I think it's romantic.

Goren took my lead and followed to the bedroom. I walked over to the nightstand and turned on a lamp. "Well?" "I...I, think you have very eclectic tastes Elliot. I like that about you. I like this too," he said. I suddenly felt self-conscious, standing there with my blouse unbuttoned, not sure how to proceed. You got him in here, now do something. He moved to where I stood and we kissed. Ah...that's it. His kisses started to trail down my neck, trailing further and further down to my breast. His hands were at my shoulders and he slowly slid my blouse down my arms. There was only one slight problem. The cuffs were still buttoned. "Uh...I'm caught in my sleeves," I whispered. We laughed and I slipped the blouse back on. We kissed as I undid those pesky little beads. "Now, where were we?" he asked. He started again on my neck and eased lower and lower. This time the blouse fell freely from my arms and I ran my hands up under his sweater. I felt the soft curly hair on his chest. I lightly ran my nails across his chest. I tugged upward on his sweater and said, "it's my turn," as he lifted his arms, I slowly inched his sweater above his chest and over his head. I planted kisses on his chest working lower and lower to the slender line of hair rising above his belt buckle. His fingers played with my hair. I slowly kissed my way back up to his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. I just wanted to stand there with our skin touching, bare skin. "Unfasten my bra," I murmured. I felt his hands on the small of my back where he began massaging slowly. He deliberately took his time moving up toward the fastener. Come on! My heart was racing, my breathing staggered. I futilely reached for the hook my self and was met with resistance. "No. I'll do it," he whispered, pushing my arms away. I found his mouth again and kissed him deeply, moaning my frustration at his slow response to my request.

Robert Goren loved making love to a woman. Sure, he enjoyed the sex, but as much as he enjoyed the feeling of being inside a woman, he loved getting there even more. He knew she wanted him to move faster. He knew she wanted his mouth on her breasts. He wanted it too. But this is the way he preferred, slow and deliberate. He wanted to explore her body, take in her scent, to discover her sounds. He was sure he could coax at least one orgasm from her without ever entering her. From experience, he also knew he'd better hurry up with her request. Some women can turn off in an instant. He was hoping this woman wasn't one of them. Robert Goren knew how he wanted to make love to this woman.

We tossed the bra aside. Stepping back, he lowered his eyes to my breasts. All I had to do was touch his cheek. He reached out and cupped my breasts in his hands rolling his thumbs across my nipples. I arched my back, wanting his mouth where his hands were. I stepped back and lay down on the bed. He leaned over me and took my left breast in his mouth. I gasped when he drew his tongue across my nipple. His right hand was caressing my other breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. I held his head between my hands and directed him back to my mouth. Our kisses were short, teasing flicks. With each kiss, I became more aroused. I was soaked. I wanted out of the confines of my jeans. I placed his hand on the button of my jeans. He withdrew it and went back to my breasts, flicking his tongue across my nipples. I arched my back and he unfastened my jeans. "Oh God," I moaned. I raised my hips so he could pull the jeans down and off. I kicked off my shoes. He removed my trouser socks slowly, caressing each leg as he went. Goren was painfully aware of the restrictions his jeans were causing. He was wondering how long he would be able to maintain this slow pace. He was about to find out. I started to pull down my panties but he stopped me. "Not yet," he whispered in my ear. "Yes, now," I said as I reached between his legs and gave a gentle squeeze. He sucked in some air, "hey, don't do..." I kissed him before he could finish. "My bedroom, my rules," I told him. "She's tough," Goren thought. I raised up on my elbows to watch him strip out of his jeans. I smiled my approval and sighed, licking my lips. He held a small foil packet in his hand. "You want help putting that on?" I grinned. "Uh...I, don't...that would be such a good idea," he replied I laughed and maneuvered myself on the bed to accommodate his height. He smiled as he slid next to me and let his hand drift downward and slowly removed my panties. He ran his hands along the inside of my thigh and gently spread my legs. He rolled on top and rested on his elbows. "Look at me," he whispered. Our eyes met and he kissed me gently on my cheek, trailing down my neck, then moaned softly in my ear, "ready?"