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"When's the boss leaving?" Paul plopped down in his favorite chair, watching with amusement as Della scurried around gathering papers and packing Mason's large brief case.
"He'll be here any minute to pick this up on his way to the airport. His plane leaves at three."
"Why aren't you going with him?" Paul challenged.
Della refused to meet his eyes. "There isn't any need for me to. He was involved in this case before he started his own practice. "It's a civil case and I don't have any firsthand knowledge about the proceedings so I'd just be in the way."
"Hmm… and the other attorneys involved will be there as well?"
"Of course. It's important that the new firm have as much information as possible about the first trial as they go into the appeal."
"And he didn't ask you to go... And you think that SHE is going to be there."
"Paul…" Della's tone reflected her exasperation. "I don't know who is going to be there... but if Perry wants to spend time with Laura then he is going to. Nothing I do is going to change that. He didn't ask to be saddled with a wife and a baby…"
"Dammit, Beautiful! Stop it!"
To say Della was stunned was an understatement. While she knew that Paul's language could be salty he very seldom used profanity around her and NEVER at her.
"You keep saying that over and over… Perry didn't ask for this. Well guess what? Neither did you! You didn't get pregnant on purpose. Stop making excuses for him!"
"No, but… I should have…" Paul stood and grabbed her shoulders, his shaking stopping her protestations.
"You should have what? You got carried away in the moment. Perry Mason has had an active and healthy sex life for well over a decade at least and how many women has he impregnated? NONE! Ergo he knows how the hell to prevent it. So why didn't he practice that prevention with you as he obviously has with every other woman he's slept with? You haven't seen her bitchesty walking around with a baby bump, have you?"
"You know as well as I do that Perry would…"
"Della, consciously or not, Perry made the choice to risk a pregnancy with you. I happen to know for a FACT that he NEVER took that risk with ANY other woman."
"What does that matter, Paul? He didn't risk it because he didn't want it… marriage, children… none of it."
"Not with them… but with you, beautiful? Somewhere deep inside he knew that you were the one…"
Della shook her head. "I was convenient, Paul. Oh, I know that Perry cares about me. He's a kind and caring man. But he… well, he needed sex and I… I was available and willing…"
"You aren't the kind of woman who is just willing… You're crazy about him, Beautiful. Everybody knows that… except him and maybe you."
Not knowing what to say, Della simply shook her head.
Paul perched on the edge of Perry's desk and laid a hand on Della's crossed arms. "I'll shut up now… except to say this… He broke up with the British bit… witch. He'd put up with her for years… but you showed up and… I know it took a while… but I also know that you are the reason."
"That's ridiculous, Paul. Besides, who knows when or if they ever really parted? She certainly doesn't seem to think so. She calls and he jumps. I am afraid it will always be that way."
"Don't be too sure, my girl. Now come here." Paul pulled her into his arms for a brotherly embrace and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Remember, I am here for you no matter what happens. I will always be there for your baby, whenever you need me… for whatever you need me for."
Della laid her head on Paul's shoulder as she returned the embrace. "I know, Paul, and I can't tell you how comforting I find that." She didn't notice the door to her office, barely cracked, silently slip back onto the latch.
"Della," Paul pushed her back and tilted her head up to look at him. "Why can't you admit it… at least to me? Just say the words."
"Paul…" Della's voice held caution but the tone didn't deter the detective. "Have you been conspiring with Mina and Aunt Mae?"
"Just three little words, Beautiful. Admit it… just once…"
Della sighed. "You win. I love him. I love Perry. Does that make you happy?"
The silly grin on Paul's face said it did.
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Perry sucked great mouthfuls of air into his lungs, his mother's words ringing in his ears as he struggled not to hyperventilate. Della was his wife... HIS WIFE! How dare Paul… Standing in a corner of the hallway outside his office, banging his head against the wall, Perry had an epiphany. All this time he'd been so concerned about his feelings, what he wanted… He'd never considered what Della might want… that Della might not want him. How could he have been so conceited? Is this what his mother had been trying to tell him?
He was still standing there, struggling with his disbelief, when Paul appeared around the corner. The detective's trademark grin appeared when he saw the lawyer. "Della said you would be by to grab your briefcase. Hope you have a great trip. Don't worry about things here. I'll keep an eye on Della."
As fit as Paul was, he was no match for Perry, especially an angry Perry who caught him by surprise. Being slammed against the wall was not the acknowledgement he had expected from his friend.
"What the hell?"
"She's MY wife, Paul."
Understanding dawned. "Then why don't you damn well start acting like you remember that, you dumb jackass!" Drake jerked away from Mason and stalked angrily down the hall toward his detective agency.
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Perry's face was a thundercloud as he stormed through the private entrance to his office, slamming the door behind him. The sound reverberated through the room, quickly followed by the bellow of Della's name. Perry found her in the law library, her body stretched as she reached to slide the last law book back into its place. He thought she was ignoring him deliberately and the creamy white expanse of skin visible between the waistband of her skirt and the bottom of her sweater teased him, adding more fire to his anger.
Della tugged her sweater back into place, hiding the flesh Perry was focused on before she turned to face him.
"Ready to go?" She asked brightly.
"Is my briefcase ready? He practically growled.
"I pulled all of the files you listed and organized them. Your briefcase is packed and ready to go on your desk."
He turned and stalked out of the room, Della following a fair distance behind, puzzled at his mood. He threw open the briefcase and thumbed through the contents then closed it roughly and headed toward the door.
Standing close by, Della reached for the knob to open it for him. "Have a good trip, Chief."
Perry dropped the briefcase with a loud thud, advanced quickly and spun
Della around. Pinning her back against the door his hands began to explore her ruthlessly. "PERRY! My name is Perry. Use it, dammit!"
His mouth attacked hers with little tenderness as his hand fisted in her pencil skirt, dragging it up.
"Say it," he ordered, never really releasing her lips. When Della pushed her hand against his shoulder half-heartedly, his free hand slid beneath the bottom of her sweater, moving unerringly towards its intended target. Della's gasp into his mouth only excited him more. The hand wrapped in her skirt slid down her bare thigh, over the silky stocking to her knee, pulling her leg up and around his waist to deepen the cradle his hips were nestled in. "Say it!"
A moan was all Della could manage because Perry's mouth was locked over hers once again, his tongue thrusting in attack. She responded in kind. Perry had never kissed her like this, not the night they'd made love... not even the night of the Christmas Ball when they'd kissed so passionately in her apartment. There was no doubt what his actions were intended to show. At this moment he wanted her... He wanted Della. She wound her arms around his torso, giving in to his demands, Mae and Mina's recent lecture fresh on her mind. Perhaps this was the opportunity she needed to show Perry how much she wanted him too.
"Perry!" She gasped when the need for air necessitated a break, giving him what he craved.
"Mine!" He crowed triumphantly, "My Della... My wife..." This kiss was touched with tenderness but still overwhelmed her with his passion.
Somehow his words struck Della wrong and this time she succeeded in pushing him away. Gasping for air, she wrapped her arms around her torso and stared at her husband. The electricity between them was palpable.
'Come with me,' his eyes begged but somehow he couldn't voice the thought, his mother's warning ringing in his ears, the image of her wrapped in Paul Drake's arms still too fresh in his mind. Instead he bent and picked up his briefcase, eyes never leaving Della's face. "I'll be back in a few days."
Della nodded, unable to articulate. She stepped away from the door to allow Perry access, her arms still hugging her body, but when he would have left Della found that she couldn't just let him go... not to Laura... not without trying... not after the way he'd kissed her. Thrusting her arms out, her palms caught him flat on his chest, pushing him back against the end of the credenza. Surprise sprang to his eyes and he dropped his briefcase again without realizing it but the feel of her hand against his cheek pleased him.
Soft lips touched the corner of his mouth and drifted slowly in, tasting and nibbling. Perry was ready to capture her lips but just before they met Della pulled back slightly and tilted her head back to stare into his eyes. "Mine, Perry Mason. MY husband."
Then Della did the capturing. Della became the aggressor, leaving her stunned husband absolutely no doubt that she wanted him. Perry was half standing, half sitting on the credenza and Della pressed forward with her lips and her body, her kiss light, tongue gently caressing as Perry opened in answer. Her body, on the other hand, slammed into his, seeking and demanding a response from his... and instantly getting one.
Neither of them was really aware of moving but somehow they found themselves on the office sofa, side by side, Della's skirt rucked up around her waist as their legs intertwined, Perry's hands traveling... everywhere as Della yanked frantically at his shirt.
"Your plane?" Della exhaled.
"To hell with the plane." Perry pulled her closer.
Five minutes later when Gertie entered the office after knocking repeatedly, she received the shock of her life. "Mr. Mason? Your taxi is waitING! OH MY GOD! I'M SO SORRY! SORRY! SORRY!" Her shrill voice could still be heard apologizing even after she'd slammed the door shut behind her and run through Della's office back to the reception area. What was a girl to do after finding her boss and her supervisor in such a state of... undress... with one of Mr. Mason's large hands on Miss Street's... and the other hidden between... "Oh My God," Gertie moaned, her face buried in her hands and her body shaking. What should she do? Should she leave? How could she ever face her employers again?
When the intercom on her desk buzzed the young receptionist nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared at it as if it might bite for long seconds before she tentatively reached out and touched the switch. "Ye...es?"
"Gertie, will you call downstairs and let them know Mr. Mason will be down in five minutes?" Della's voice, calm and confident, came through the speaker.
"Yes... yes, Miss Street."
Perry held out Della's sweater to her as he tucked his shirt tail back into his pants. She took it with a wry smile, her eyes continuing to search the room for her still missing brassiere. Spying it beneath the credenza, she bent to pick it up. When she stood she found her husband had moved in behind her.
"Let me help," he whispered in her ear, wide palms sliding around to cup her as he nuzzled her neck. Della couldn't suppress the moan that rose in her throat.
Ten minutes was a closer estimate to the time that passed before Perry finally made it out of the office, briefcase in hand, white handkerchief scrubbing at the copious lipstick stains covering his face.
"Go," Della had told him. "Maybe a few days away will help bring things into perspective for both of us. Besides, I think Gertie is going to need some time..."
"She certainly got an eyeful..." Perry purposefully avoided looking at Della as he finished straightening his tie.
That comment earned him a smack on the arm as Della finally managed to get her sweater back in place. "I can leave it to you to go out and explain the events that she witnessed to Miss Lade, if you aren't careful."
Perry whirled in horror. "No. Please, No! I'm sorry. But you are the one who attacked me after all."
"What?! As I recall you kissed me, Perry Mason."
"A simple good-bye kiss. Then you attacked me..."
"Attacked?"
"...and began to ravish me..."
"Ravish?"
"... and being the gentleman that I am..."
"Gentleman... right." Della could barely contain her laughter.
"Della..." Perry took her hand in his and lifted it to his cheek. "I..."
A single delicate finger slid over his lips, both tracing and shushing. Gertie's unexpected appearance had dampened their ardor but not quashed it. Just a word... the right touch... and it would flare to life again. But instead Della lifted her lips to Perry's cheek and caressed it softly. "I'll miss you." The words were so faint that Perry felt them against his cheek as much as heard them but Della knew that he did and she didn't take them back.
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Edward Twilliger Forseith knew how to throw a party, Perry admitted as he sipped on a glass of twenty year old Scotch. He'd enjoyed seeing his old colleagues, most of whom remained in corporate law and outside his sphere of operation. Several of them had moved to opportunities in other big cities so dinner took on the air of a reunion, story after wild story flowing around the table along with the cocktails.
The old man had briefly outlined the substance of the appeal and explained the next day's agenda over a seven course meal prepared by a world renowned chef. Each attorney present had been given a luxurious suite and most of the men had brought their families with them. Perhaps he should have brought Della... if she would have come. She might have enjoyed spending time with the other wives... hearing about their children... their lives...
That thought brought a soft chuckle to Perry's lips. Della Street Mason was definitely NOT a typical housewife. He doubted that she ever could be... typical... Della was definitely unique in every aspect and he knew that motherhood would be no different. He couldn't wait to see how she was going to figure that out but he knew she would.
Those ideas pulled Perry up short. Della. If only he'd brought her with him... He wouldn't be standing here alone drinking whisky. Hell, he probably wouldn't have made it out of the hotel room. Their parting had left Perry confused but also imbued with more hope than he'd had in months. He was suddenly overcome with the desire to hear Della's sweet voice. Throwing back the remainder of his drink, he bid his fellow lawyers goodnight and headed back to his room to call his wife.
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"You know, Della, Perry did close the office this week for a reason. There was absolutely no need for you to go in to work." Mina lectured as she unpacked food she had picked up at the Chinese takeaway.
"I don't like to get too far behind. Besides I didn't work all day and I got a lot of the backlog cleaned up without having to deal with clients." Della answered as she pulled plates out of her kitchen cabinet. "It was nice of you to bring dinner."
"Tomorrow night I am going to cook for you... all your favorites."
"You've been talking to Mae. But I won't say no. Sometimes I do miss home cooking."
"And my son doesn't give you a chance to cook very often, does he? Have you heard from him today?"
"He called the office just before I left. He said that the meeting was going very well and to tell you that he might be back New Year's Day."
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Edward Twilliger Forseith didn't disappoint with dinner on the second night of his conference either. The new lead counsel had joined them that morning and taken charge of the discussion. Tom Robertson's expertise in corporate law was evident and the group was moving quickly and efficiently through the information. Perry's only complaint was that the older man seemed to be questioning him much more than the other members of the team. Perry had been a very junior associate involved with the research in the case; he had only attended the trial twice. Perhaps he was being paranoid but by the end of the day's session he was beginning to feel as if he was being targeted on purpose.
Perry made it through dinner before he decided that he'd had enough. He had only come to the conference as a courtesy and because it fit into his plans. Robertson had been so thorough that Mason knew that he had little more to offer so he didn't feel guilty when he quietly made his excuses to Geoff Hartley, the lead attorney on the first trial, and made his exit.
It was time for him to meet up with the person he had come to see.
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"I do have to admit," Mina shared as she pushed her plate away and leaned back in her chair, "that I enjoy having Chinese food when I come to town."
"Chinese is one of my favorites, too. But you could probably tell that by how much I ate!"
Mina was pleased that Della had eaten a good meal. All too often on this trip Mina had noticed how her daughter-in-law had simply picked at her food.
"Della... I don't mean to be a nosy in-law but... is everything all right? With the baby I mean?"
"The baby? Everything is fine, just fine. I saw Dr. Cooper last week. Things are progressing normally."
"You don't look pregnant." Mina blurted out. "I mean... most women are showing by now. Is the baby getting enough to eat? Are you?"
Della knew that Mina wasn't meaning to be critical; her concern was genuine. She shrugged.
"The doctor said that some women just show later, especially with their first baby. I'll probably wake up one morning soon and clothes that fit fine the day before will be two sizes too small... As a matter of fact I was going to ask if you wanted to go shopping with me tomorrow. I need to get some things in anticipation of that day and..."
"Baby clothes! And the nursery... we should look at a crib... The baby will be here in four months or less... We should make a list..."
Della cleared the table while Mina worked on the 'list'. She listened intently, amazed as Mina wrote down item after item. The longer the list got, the more intimidated Della felt. She didn't know what half of the items Mina was listing were for.
Mina was so caught up in her project that she wasn't aware of Della moving around until she heard the yelp from the other room. She jumped up and ran into the kitchen.
Della was standing in the center of the small room, both hands clutching her abdomen, a quizzical look on her face.
"Hold on, Honey. I'll call an ambulance..." The telephone receiver was already in Mina's hand.
"No... I don't need..." The puzzled expression was replaced with one of wonder. "I'm not sure but I think the baby just kicked me!"
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The moon shone bright along the road as Perry turned his rental car toward the desert. He rolled the window down and breathed deeply, the clean air helping to clear his muddled thoughts. In just a few hours he would arrive at his destination. This was his last chance, he knew, and he was determined to make the most of it.
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Della snuggled beneath the covers, a sweet smile on her face and her hands still fluttering over her belly. She now realized that what she'd attributed to stretching muscles and gas pains in the past was actually the baby moving but the intensity of the kick tonight could not be denied. Mentally she had known that she was pregnant for months but now... With one simple kick the baby had become... real.
Mina had laughed at Della's reaction, then cried happy tears with her, encouraging her to call Perry and share her joy. Della had declined but as the night wore on her desire to share this feeling began to overwhelm her. As the hours ticked by she lay awake, reveling in each tiny movement from her suddenly active baby.
Two a.m. had passed when Della finally gave in to her nagging inner voice and picked up the phone. The late hour meant that she didn't have to wait long before she was connected to the hotel and requesting to be connected with Perry's room. The phone rang several times and Della was about to hang up when it was answered.
"Hello..." came the sleepy voice. "Oh... Perry Mason's room. He's not available right now... He must be in the shower...hehehe... Can I give him a message?"
Della slipped the receiver back onto the telephone. She'd recognized the voice... the sleepy feminine voice with a hint of a British accent.
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