"Post Finale Season – Pre-movie"
In New York City four friends take a life-check.
In her apartment, slipping on her favourite manolo blahniks, Carrie was getting ready for a date with Big. He'd been away in Italy for a week and she'd been desperately missing him. She adjusted her dress straps and skipped over to the mirror to admire her reflection.
Then she heard it; the familiar sound on Big's car pulling up outside her apartment. It had become tradition for Big to wait in the car – never get out and make the short journey up the steps to her apartment door. Carrie didn't mind, she liked their routine; it worked for them.
She ran to the window and bit her bottom lip at the sight of the black vehicle. She snatched up her shawl from the bed and was about to leave the apartment when the phone rang.
"Shoot," she muttered to herself, weighing up whether or not to leave and let the answer machine get it. No, you can't, what if it's one of the girls? She darted over to the receiver and answered the phone. His voice came quickly down the line; as soft as she remembered it to be.
"Hello Carrie. . ." Her heart skipped a beat as she replied.
"Aiden. . ."
Miranda wasn't sure what to think these days. She'd been extremely over worked, her boss piling on case after case, complimenting her on how great she was, how well she could handle it, but Miranda felt like she was drowning. She loved her job; she always had and always would, but that familiar feeling – the one she'd experienced after Brady had been born – had returned; guilt. She missed her family. Steve did his best at playing daddy and mommy but recently he'd been telling her how much Brady missed her.
"Hobbs, got another case for you if you're up for it." Miranda looked up from the desk and sighed.
"I'm sorry, no. I just don't think I can handle it, I've got all this lot to do," she indicated the stack of papers covering her mahogany desk and gave a sympathetic smile.
"Come on Hobbs, you're doing excellent, this is a real good case – be a shame to miss it." Miranda stared from the papers in his hand to the papers covering her desk and then to the photo of Steve and Brady that sat my her computer.
"What do you say, will you take it?"
Work had taken a back seat recently for Samantha Jones, who spent her days devouring her movie-star boyfriend and the luxurious lifestyle he'd accustomed. She flew to the exotic sets with him, lounged on sun-beds as Smith shot his movies, drank cocktails and eyed up the surrounding studs in miniscule trunks and oiled pecks. Today, however, she was back in New York, lying in bed with Smith after a passionate session, staring up at the ceiling. Life was good.
"Hey, you know I've been thinking. . ." Samantha rolled her eyes.
"Never a good thing honey. . .believe me."
"No I'm serious. I was thinking, maybe I should adopt a kid." There was silence. "Maybe we should adopt a kid." Samantha instantly sat up in bed.
"What? Honey are you out of your mind?" Smith shifted onto his elbow and began stroking her bare stomach.
"No, I mean you're always telling me to up my celebrity profile and everyones doing it; Angelina, Brad, Madonna."
"Well, that's true. . ."
"So I was thinking; why not me? Why not us?" Samantha's stomach sank. Why not her? Why not her? She began searching her mind for an answer.
Harry sprayed their Chinese daughter with water and ran around the paddling pool after her.
"Daddy noooooo!" She screamed, laughing and throwing her arms up to cover her from the water. Charlotte smiled as she watched from the doorway. Who would have thought that her family would have come together at last? She heard the doorbell go and left them playing to answer it. A smartly dressed man in shades stood before her.
"Hello, can I help you?"
"Yes hello, Mrs Goldenblatt?" Charlotte nodded. "Is Harry about?" She nodded once more and ushered them through and out into the garden. Harry stopped spraying his daughter with the hose as he saw their visitor.
"Jamie, hi." The two men shook hands and Charlotte began wrapping a towel around her daughter. She watched as Harry and Jamie exchanged words, shook hands and then waited for Harry to return from showing Jamie out.
"Who's that?" She asked.
"Oh Jamie White – he has his own firm here in the city, but he's expanding to San Francisco." Charlotte smiled. "And he wants me to run it." Her smile vanished.
Let me know if you want more of this, or should I pull on other threads?