"More coffee, sir?" Lurch peered into the empty cup.
"Don't mind if I do, Lurch." Gomez went for another bite of toast before turning to the finance page of yesterday's paper. Just as Lurch started to turn away, he added, "But Lurch, could you make it a little more bitter? Oh, and same for Mrs. Addams. She'll be down in a few minutes."
He slightly bowed, left to fetch it, and was back in break-neck speed.
Uncle Fester briskly strolled in behind him and took a seat next to Gomez. "So," he asked as he cracked a raw egg over his toast, "do we have our Morticia back?"
Gomez put down the paper. An immense grin was plastered on his face.
"Fester, not only do we have our Tish back, but I believe I found the next big star."
"She looks that good eh? Gee, I wonder if she's single…"
"Well I haven't actually seen her work yet, but she sounded promising and she's free for Thursday's audition. She said she'd send some copies from her portfolio right away."
Uncle Fester was about to reply, but Gomez abruptly jumped to his feet and averted his attention to the atrium's entrance.
"Good morning, darling." Morticia floated past them and over to Cleopatra. "How's my dear girl?" She soothingly stroked the plant's brittle leaves as she spoke. "Lurch, does she look a little under the weather to you?"
The dutiful butler groaned in response.
"I think so too. Why don't you give her some coffee? It might perk her up."
"Good morning, my siren." Gomez came up behind her, gently wrapping her in his arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Good morning, dear. Breakfast certainly smells good."
"Hmm?"
She pointed to the breakfast table.
"Oh! Yes, yes." He chivalrously offered her a seat before returning to his own.
"You're up quite early, Uncle Fester," she casually remarked as she picked at her plate.
"I like to hear what the latest reports are and -" He stopped short when Gomez shot him a warning look. "And all…" he meekly trailed off.
For a moment, Morticia eyed the two but quickly shrugged any concerns away.
"Did you notice anything, Gomez?" She paused mid-drink, her delicate hands enfolded the cup.
"You're even more lovely than you were yesterday?"
"Mmm… no. But thank you darling." She couldn't resist stroking his warm cheek. "Try again."
He watched in a dream-like state as her hands left him. When he saw them hug the cup once more, the realization hit him.
"Morticia! No gloves?"
"Not a thread," she smiled. "It's my day off. And it's all yours, Bubala."
"Tish," his eyes suddenly found new life. He rushed over and knelt at her side. "That name. How it seems centuries since I've last heard it."
"I know darling, I know," she cooed, lovingly patting his head. "I do hope I can make it up to you." Then she slyly added, "tonight is a full moon, you know."
"You little minx," he smirked.
"Darling, there's something else I wanted to tell you. I've thought it over and -"
"Package, sir." Lurch stood in the archway, holding a small parcel. "Important." He handed it to Gomez.
Gomez stood up. All eyes were on him as he broke the seal and started to cautiously pull out the contents. A photograph of a woman in a scantily clad bathing suit was the first image he happened to conjure. He immediately shoved it back into the package before anyone else could see.
"Uh, put this on my desk, please Lurch." He hastily thrust the parcel onto him.
"Is something wrong?" Morticia asked, "It's nothing serious, I hope?"
"Just business matters." Gomez nervously tugged at his tie.
Morticia simply cocked her head. She curiously observed as Gomez, with slightly shaky hands, removed the cigar from his breast pocket and started puffing on it with unusual zest.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Lurch, on the second thought I'll take that. I uh, I think it'd be best if the matter be squared away as soon as possible. I won't be long, querida."
He dashed upstairs and into his office. Making sure to shut the door, he sat at his desk and emptied the package. Photos, both colored and black & white, sprawled across the surface. Amongst the advertisement snippets, head shots and publicity stills was a roll of film labeled, "commercials." He reached for the film first.
"What's that?!"
"Yeeesh!" The film went flying, bounced off the edge of the desk, and rolled to Uncle Fester's feet.
"Uncle Fester, you're supposed to be with Morticia!"
"I am?"
Gomez sighed and started shuffling the photos around.
"Is that from the lady you called?" Uncle Fester picked up the film reel and scurried over to the desk, curious to see the mysterious woman. His eyes automatically went to the bathing suit photo.
"Gomez," he perplexedly started, "I thought she was supposed to be a hand model, or something?"
"She is, supposedly," he said as he skimmed over a pantyhose advertisement.
Uncle Fester dubiously raised an eyebrow. "I see an awful lot more than hands."
"So she's well rounded," he shrugged.
"In more ways than one."
Gomez chidingly glanced at him then swiftly began putting everything back. "Will you keep this in a safe place for me?" He sealed the package best as he could and handed it to him. "Just until Morticia doesn't get that part."
"That I can do!"