She's out of my Life

Daniel had eventually succumbed to sleep around 6am, only to awaken again shortly after seven, covered in a layer of sweat, after his mind decided to torture him even in his dreams. His slumber had been plagued by unbidden images; him holding on to Wilhelmina for dear life, only to feel her slip through his fingers as the hands of the handsome stranger pulled her from him. The surge of hope he felt when he felt another hand cover his and the crushing devastation when he turned to meet, not Wilhelmina's eyes, but Amanda's.

The cycle had repeated over and over as his body tried to rest, to recuperate from the anguish it had endured the previous day. His 41year old body felt like that of a man twice his age as he tried to pull himself from the confines of the bed. Walking to the adjacent bathroom he peeled off the vest and boxers that stuck to his skin and left them were they fell on the floor. He twisted the knob for the shower to spring to life, he stood outside the walk-in shower and watched the water fall in front of him, felt the warmth of the steam beginning to cloud the room, obscuring his eyes. No matter, he wasn't taking in his surroundings anyway, his eyes were nothing more than the two orbs planted inside his skull, he didn't think he'd see anything with them ever again, not while his minds eye saw only her.

The look on her face when he had walked in uninvited, the sheer defeat in her eyes when the papers were signed and she knew that everything she had worked so hard for was over. He'd never forget the moment when she relented to his touch and pulled him too her as he gave her a final embrace. His own inner voice seemed to be mocking him, laughing at him for being the fool he had been, sitting in the elevator, only to feel close to her still. When those doors had opened to show her standing there, he hadn't cared how pathetic he looked, he cared only that she was there, that some part of her still felt for him. He hadn't even cared that she had shown up wearing only a silk robe, knowing that the other man was still inside the apartment and knowing full well what had occurred in those hours in between.

All he had cared about was that moment, that one moment inside that elevator, when everything had no choice but to be shut away, where it was just him and her, where he had seen the first trace in her eyes that maybe she wasn't as ready to let go as she said she was. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still taste their final kiss, still feel her lips moving against his and feel her breath on his face.

What if Betty hadn't been waiting at the bottom? What if he had had just one more minute with her? Would that have been the one minute in which the wall between them would have fallen? Would that have been the moment that she realised they could try and heal the wound he created? Or would she still have gone back upstairs into the arms of another? His stomach tightened as his mind once again created scenarios just to torment him, images of his wife with Sawyer.

Scratch that, ex-wife.

The sudden clarity with which this revelation hit him made the bile rise in his chest. EX – wife, never again would he call her his wife, he was a divorcee, he was a failure. Spinning around he bent double and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. When there was nothing else left to give he crumbled next to it, he didn't think he had been in such a sorry state in his whole life: alone, naked and broken on his mothers bathroom floor.

Using his last reserve of strength, he reached for the sink and pulled himself up to stand in front of the mirror. He wiped the condensation and looked himself through the fog; he didn't know the man staring back at him. The man he was used to seeing was happy, confident, and secure in his life; the man looking back at him now wasn't even a shadow of who he was. In the space of 6 weeks he had let his own insecurities drag him down into a hell of his own making. He knew he had to get it together, knew he had to try and reshape his life somehow, he just couldn't see a way out of his quagmire. Not without her by his side.

He mentally tried to slap himself, when that didn't work he lifted his hand and swiftly smacked it across his face; he didn't even register the sting. The room now full of steam, he couldn't see the broken man looking back at him anymore. Daniel stepped away from the sink and stepped under the battering stream of water, he tilted his face upwards, closing his eyes.

If he stayed still enough, he could imagine he were home, that any minute now he would be assaulted by a gust of cold air as Wilhelmina stepped into the room to tell him to hurry his ass up or they would be late for work, as she did every morning; and every morning he would reply they were in charge, they weren't late, everyone else was merely early. A reply which would either result on the door opening and him feeling a body slide in next to his, or a breath catching torrent of cold water raining down on him as she turned the temperature down on his shower.

If he stayed quiet enough he could pretend that the noises he heard, in the vast reaches of the house, was Wilhelmina darting about in their bedroom, trying to find some god forsaken cream or other, shouting through the bathroom door that he must have moved it and he would ignore her shouts, counting to himself as he knew the call would come that she had found what she was looking for, and he would laugh to himself because he knew it was in the same place it always was.

But this morning there was no laughing; there was no human presence in the other room. No hand would fiddle with the control of the shower, giving him an abrupt wake up call. No one would be sliding in next to him, entwining with him under the cascade of water. And when he opened his eyes, he would not be home, he would not find himself staring into the bejewelled eyes he loved so much. When he opened his eyes he would be back in his personal hell, he wouldn't be able to pretend anymore.

He kept them closed.

She's out of my life

She's out of my life

And I don't know whether to laugh or cry

"We're too late Fey." The hushed voice came down the phone.

"Claire, for the love of God speak up, or have you a bad case of 'the morning after'. Too late for what?"

Claire looked over her shoulder and hurried through her hallway to ensconce herself in the kitchen. "The papers are signed, it's done, it's over, they're divorced."

"Shame." Fey took a drink from her morning coffee, disinterested in what the other woman was saying.

"Did you hea-"

"Yes, yes, I heard you. So she divorced him? It's an unfortunate blip I admit, had they stayed married it would have ensured I could keep Amanda from him."

"An unfortunate blip!" Claire repeated, incredulous. "My sons marriage is over, he is upstairs, right now, destroyed and you call it an unfortunate blip!"

Fey sat up straighter in the chair, holding the phone closer. "You're son is of no consequence to me. I did not come back because of Daniel, I'm here for my daughter, I hope your darling child isdestroyed after what he did to her."

Claire moved once again, further into the house, even though she knew no one could here her. "What he did! It was your daughter who slept with a married man!"

Claire heard an exasperated sigh echo down the line and she wanted to reach a hand down it and choke the woman on the other end. "Claire, let's not play whose child is the biggest disappointment, shall we? A Meade and a Sommers both have plenty of credentials in that field, what do you expect with us for parents?"

Claire laughed, low and hollow in disbelief. "Don't you try and put yourself in the same box as me when it comes to motherhood. I'm amazed you even have the audacity to call yourself a parent, you didn't raise her, you abandoned her."

"That shouldn't suggest I don't care for her." She was growing increasingly bored with the conversation at hand. "Look, why are you calling?"

Claire bit back the scream she could feel rising in her throat and took a calming breath. "I thought since your master plan was to keep Daniel and Wilhelmina from divorcing, that you might be interested to know it's a done deal." She could almost hear her oldest adversary shrug with indifference.

"And as I said it's unfortunate, for Wilhelmina at least. I do so hate to see her unhappy, but I must admit I enjoy seeing the carnage she leaves in her wake when she is. My priority though, as I have stated several times, but admit your alcohol sponge of a brain must find difficult to hold on to; is Amanda."

"What's your next move?"

"I'll make my presence known in my own time, I'll make her see that the fantasy she is living in her head would be a dangerous reality, one which would never live up to her expectations."

"And what about Daniel and Wilhelmina?"

Fey pulled the phone away from her and looked into the receiver, puzzled. "What about them? Your son, your mess, I daresay my Wilhelmina is better off without him."

"How many times! She is not-" Claire stopped her rebuke when she was met by the dialling tone on the line. Fey had disconnected her, outraged; she slammed her finger on the end button and threw the phone on the kitchen counter.

"Who was that?" A voice from behind startled her. She spun round to see Daniel, freshly shaven and in clean clothes, standing in the doorway.

Claire wracked her brains, searching for a name. "Wilhelmina!" She blurted, then squeezed her eyes closed.Why did I say the one name he doesn't want to hear right now, and the one name he will ask about?

To her surprise he merely nodded and walked to the fridge, pulling it open and retrieving a pitcher of iced tea. He sat at the island and poured himself a glass. He tried to tune into the song drifting from the radio in the background, tried to concentrate on anything other than the demons in his head. He vaguely took in some sugary sweet lyrics about love before he shut it out again, the up-tempo beat becoming nothing but a threnody to his ears.

Claire watched her son watching the lemon floating inside the pitcher and she knew he was no longer in the room with her. As she watched her son in turmoil, she thought of all the pain the woman who occupied his thoughts had brought on their household. She knew in this instance that she wasn't at fault, but she couldn't help her maternal instinct kicking in and feeling resentment towards Wilhelmina for the agony she had brought her baby.

"Don't." Daniel spoke in a quiet, robotic voice.

"Don't what?"

Still staring at the fruit moving in his glass, he sniffed loudly. "I can hear the cogs turning mother. Don't blame her, I did this, I'm responsible."

She slipped into a stool opposite him in one fluid motion and reached for his hand, he seemed not to notice, as his arms remained hanging by his side in his catatonic state. "Not just you Daniel, Amanda has to shoulder some of the responsibility; besides, your marriage was far from perfect before this, you told me yourself how she constantly undermined you, how she-"

"STOP!" His sudden shout made her jump in the quiet of the room. "I was her husband, I took another woman into our home, and I slept with her in our bed. Nothing she did or said can justify what I did. And don't lay it on Amanda either, I was the married man, I was the one with vows to uphold."

Claire leaned back in the stool, "Why are you so concerned about Amanda? Without her you would still be where you belong?"

"Would I?" He huffed out a mirthless laugh, still engrossed in the glass before him. "If it hadn't been Amanda it would have been someone else, anyone else…I wanted to hurt her. I'm the worst example of a husband…dad would be so proud, chip off the old block."

Claire ignored the slight at her husband's memory. "So…Amanda, it wasn't about her, she isn't…special to you?"

For the first time since coming in the room, Daniel lifted his head to meet his mother's eyes. "What? No…God no, it wasn't like that. It was…she didn't even have a face, I needed, I don't know, something, she could have been anyone."

Claire nodded, satisfied with his answer. "I uh…I called Dominic Nolan."

Daniel screwed his face up. "Your Real Estate guy?"

"He's going to help you look for an apartment. I know your…financial situation will be difficult, but I will help. Choose anything you want."

"Wow divorced one day, kicked out by mother the next, what's tomorrow? Hit by a cab?"

Claire walked around the island and lifted his hand and clasped it between her two. "I am not kicking you out, you can stay here as long as you want." She moved a hand to brush through the hair at the front of his head. "I just want you to be prepared, for when you have to move on, because if you don't it will hurt so much more when she does."

"She already has."

Claire smiled at her son's naivety. "No she hasn't. She's reaching for something, she's still hurting and she wants it to stop. I can't say I approve, but I understand…I think you do too." She kissed his forehead.

Daniel nodded and cleared his throat, not wanting to discuss it any further. "Call him again. Have him line up some places for me to look at when we come back from the retreat." He stood up and left the room without another word.

Claire watched him go, hoping for the day when she would see him smile again.

I don't know whether to live or die

And it cuts like a knife

She's out of my life

"Good morning!" Marc sang from the door as he swept inside the apartment and made his way to her kitchen. He found Wilhelmina sitting at her table in her robe, drinking coffee from a cup as big as her head. This, in itself, was unusual as she was always dressed by this time and usually scrawling through her emails, Marc generally liked to make sure he was there after she had gotten her morning coffee fix and lost her murderous impulses, temporarily at least.

This morning, however, she didn't even appear to see him there, hadn't even looked his way, just remained drinking from the cup in her hands. Marc clapped his hands together. "You're second favourite puppy is reporting for duty, aaaaaand…" He produced a bag from his side. "I brought croissants! I know, I know, Tuesday is carb day, but I thought seen as you leave for the Editors retreat tomorrow we cou-"

She cut him off by delving a hand into the bag, pulling out a large pastry and ripping a bite off. "Stuff pastry down our throats apparently." He finished, watching her. "I was expecting more of a battle that would ultimately end up with me getting a croissant suppository."

She swallowed the food in her mouth. "He signed Marc." She told him softly, before tearing another piece off the croissant in her hand.

"Oh." He slumped into a chair next to her. "That's…good? I guess?"

She shrugged. "Yeah…I guess."

Marc watched her stare off into space and knew she was racing through a roller coaster of emotions, even if none showed on her face. He thought back to his discussion with Amanda, the previous evening, if she ever did let Daniel in her life in the way he thought she wanted to, if she did welcome the man, who brought Wilhelmina to the state she was in, into her life. Then Amanda was right, there really only was one choice, and it was the woman before him.

"Can I get you anything?"

She scoffed, "The last four years back?"

"Do you really mean that?"

She looked into her coffee cup. "Sometimes." She whispered in the most vulnerable voice he had ever heard the formidable woman use. Shaking her head, she brought her gaze upward, breaking her state of mind. "Anyway, that's not why I asked you here. You know I'm leaving for the retreat tomorrow?"

He nodded as she bit her lip and continued. "As much as it pains me to say it, I have let things slide at Mode, due to…circumstances. There is no way I have left enough in place to keep the office running in my absence. I want to ask you…tell you…you're in charge Marc."

Marc stood up slowly, eyes wide. "For reals!" he spluttered.

She smiled at him, she would always be thankful for his ability to make her do that even when she felt like dying inside. "Yes, I trust you Marc, but you won't be alone. I am going to ask Betty if Mode can sequester her for a week, she's more than up to date with her work for London."

"Betty?" He quizzed; distaste dripping off the name.

"Yes Marc, Betty. She is far more adept at the Editorial side, I'll see if she will oversee some of our bigger articles. She is NOT, however, to be involved in the fashion aspect in anyway. The last thing I need is a spread on animal sweaters. That side is down to you."

"Have I told you recently that I love you?" He quipped.

"You have, but it might save more time if you just tattoo it on your forehead."

"Done!" He jigged around on his feet and clasped his hands together. "Willie! I just…I mean…oh screw it, I'm goin' in!" He shouted as he lunged forward, hugging her to him tightly.

She allowed him to hug her and smiled to herself, when he pulled back he was still wearing that stupid grin she loved but told him she hated. "There isone condition." She arched her eyebrow.

"Okay." He said nervously, awaiting one of her usual degrading demands.

On cue, a yellow ball of fur trotted into the room. Willie inclined her head to the dog. "Walk Hudson, there is no way I'm doing it and Sawyer doesn't do weekends." She smirked, the smirk died on her face when she heard her door opening and after familiar, heavy footsteps, Sawyers frame filled the door.

"Actually, I thought I would help out today too…Hi." He said, his brilliant smile reduced to a nervous grin.

"Hi." She replied in a breath, stunned by his sudden appearance.

Marc looked at Sawyer, waved his arm out widely to get his attention. The man looked straight through him and kept his stare solely on Wilhelmina. When Marc turned to her, she saw her own gaze was trained right back at Sawyer, the two holding each other with their eyes and not uttering a word.

Realising they had been staring for an inordinate amount of time, Sawyer brusquely cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair as the little dog yapped excitedly at his heels, knowing his presence meant he was going out, "I'll go get his leash." He backed out of the room, Hudson scampering after him.

Marc banged his hands on the table and swivelled his head dramatically towards Willie. "OH-A-MY-A-GOD! You totally got yourself a bite of that hotdog! SPILL!"

Wilhelmina scoffed. "You don't know what you're talking about." She said, unconvincingly and took a gulp of the now cold, bitter coffee.

"Please, I can always tell when you got some."

"You do not!" She exclaimed, affronted.

"Pffft, I knew about you and Daniel MONTHS before you told me."

"Rubbish, there is no way you know the first time Da-"

"Fashion-week-Mode-tent-right-before-Christina-went-in-to-labour." The words tumbled from his mouth. "Next?" He grinned.

She gawped at him. "How did you..?" She was spared of finding out how her friend had such extensive knowledge of her sex life, by a knock at the door.

Shooting Marc a look, somewhere between creeped out and impressed, she pushed herself up from the table and made her way to the door. Opening it she was more than surprised to see an older man standing there, sporting every stereotypical southern-style garment known to man, right down to the Stetson he took of his head and held to his chest. "Well mornin' ma'am…" He began trying to speak to her.

"Sorry Colonel, not buying." She tried to close the door in his face, irritated at some of the characters her doorman let in the building. The man stuck a hand out to stop the door for closing, Wilhelmina looked at him with a glint in her eye.

"Oh no, I'm not sellin'" He laughed. "Allow me to introduce myself I'm-"

"DAD!"

Willie spun round to the source of the voice behind her and found Sawyer staring at the uninvited guest in shock. "Dad?" She questioned him.

Sawyer shot Willie a cursory glance as he hurried up to the door, holding the edge of it and standing next to a bewildered Wilhelmina. "Dad, WHAT in God's name are you doin' here? I told you…"

"I know, I know, but forgive me for wanting to meet this so-called perfect woman my son told me about."

Sawyer rolled his eyes and reddened at his father's words, he could feel Wilhelmina's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Why don't we continue this inside?" Wilhelmina offered, wishing to avoid speculation from gossiping neighbours.

She stepped aside and Sawyer's father moved past her, giving her a bow of the head as he did so. "Much obliged ma'am."

Sawyer fussed at the door and whispered in Willies ear. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea, I swear. I don't know what he thinks he's playin' at."

Willie didn't know whether to laugh or rage at the sudden development, all she knew was that the longer she felt Sawyer next to her; the harder it was to stay mad. "Never mind, let's just see what he wants."

"But Hudson?" Sawyer held up the end of the lead in his hand, the other end of which was attached to the excitable puppy, clearly awaiting a walk.

"MARC!" A second after Willie's call, Marc scurried through from the kitchen, smirking when he saw Wilhelmina and Sawyer stood so closely together, that coupled with the man who had just introduced himself in the kitchen, as Sawyers father, was all the proof he needed that he was right about his former boss's activities with the dog-walker.

"Guess you are walking Hudson, after all." She huffed, snatching the lead from Sawyers hand and thrusting it into Marcs.

Marc happily took the lead from Wilhelmina and headed out the door, as he came to the threshold he bumped straight into someone. Pulling back, a dishevelled Betty straightened the glasses on her face. "Ow Marc! Walk much?"

Wilhelmina brought her hand to her forehead and groaned, annoyed by the thoroughfare coming through her door that morning. "What brings you here so early on a Sunday Suarez?" Marc asked, brightly.

Betty looked from Marc, to Wilhelmina and Sawyer and narrowed her eyes at the close proximity of their bodies. "Wilhelmina asked me to come, something about the magazine."

Marc grabbed her by the flesh of her upper arm and spun her round, taking her with him down the hall. "No time for that, I'll fill you in." He stabbed the button for the elevator.

Still in the open doorway Wilhelmina squeezed her eyes closed at Marc's next choice of words.

"Willie has to meet the new in-laws!"

Its out of my hands

It's out of my hands

To think for two years she was here

Fey wrinkled her nose in disgust as she watched her rotund sister saturate a plate of pancakes in syrup. How she shared genes with the woman, she would never know. "Would you like me to get you a trough?" She snapped, sickened by the display.

"I'm sorry 'Miss Eats-nothing-but-air' but some of us actually enjoy food." Julia complained through a mouth of sticky blueberry syrup.

Fey looked her up and down, from chins to cankles. "Evidently."

Julia slammed down the knife and fork and dabbed her mouth with a napkin before balling it up and throwing it down in annoyance. "Did you come back from the dead to moan about my eating habits or are you actually ever going to see your daughter."

"Don't get snippy with me dear!" Fey bit back. "Remember you wouldn't be able to afford the lifestyle…or the diet you have been accustomed to if I had not paid for it."

"Well you could have left me something in your goddamn will." Julia grumbled.

Fey laughed, "And have you turning up at the lawyers, letting people know we once swam in the same gene pool. I think not dear."

Julia stabbed another forkful of her hefty breakfast and glowered at her sister. She looked at the pinched face she had grown up hating, the condescending eyes that always told her she wasn't good enough to call Fey her sister. She wished when she had opened the door all those weeks ago, it had been her party hound of a son, even her manipulative daughter, anything would be better than the sister sat before her; the sister that had supposedly been dead for six years and chose to waltz back into her life without warning.

"Stop staring Julia, it'll only make you strive for perfection that you will never have."

Julia laughed. "You think I ant to be like you? A shrivelled old woman with no one around her, too scared to get close to anyone in case the ever reveal your true identity. I may not have the best children in the world, but at least they know who I am and that I'm there for them if ever they need me. Can the same be said of your daughter?"

Fey bristled at the attack from the sibling she always thought of as inferior. "I made sure my child was cared for by people who could give them the best life possible." She leaned further across the table, pinning her sister with her stare. "And Amanda is not just my daughter, she's yourniece! A niece I gave implicit instructions for you to look after once I no longer could, when I had to disappear I offered you the money under the proviso that she would be under your watchful eye, I should have known your eye would to finely tuned to complex carbohydrates instead."

"I have been watching her! I have kept informed of her career since the day you should have went up in flames."

"I don't care about her career you foolish woman! With my genetics it was never a question that she would do well, I'm talking about her personal choices. You knew of her history with Daniel Meade, you knew how impressionable she was and you knew that the man was married to the most dangerous woman I know!"

"How was I supposed to know she'd drop her pants for him as soon as Slater's back was turned! I guess I should have, it runs in the family doesn't it?"

Fey grabbed the glass of water sat in front of her and threw the contents in her sister's face. She stood up, staring at the dripping joules of her sister, and fastened the Chanel jacket she wore. "If she ends up where I think she will because f what your neglect led her to do…I'm holding you responsible. If you had guided her better from afar she never would have made this mistake, I would never have had to come back and clean up this mess. Seems I was blessed with the beauty andthe brains." She stormed away from the table.

"And what did I get?" Julia shouted.

Fey turned and slowly let her eyes wander over the doughy form that was her younger sister.

"Girth."

And I took her for granted, I was so cavalier

Now the way that it stands

She's out of my hands

"She's meeting his father?" Betty asked, feeling indignant on behalf of her friend at the speed at which his ex-wife seemed to be moving on. "The ink is barely even dry, Daniel's in pieces and she's meeting the father of her new conquest!"

"It's not like that Betty, he just showed up, anyway at least she waited until after the marriage ended to move on, unlike the man you're so concerned about." Marc instantly jumped to Wilhelmina's defence, not allowing anyone to paint her as the villain in this piece.

Betty huffed and folded her arms, trotting quickly to keep up with Marc and Hudson, who was bouncing in front of them more excited by each piece of foliage they passed in the park. "I just…Marc he's sorry. You know it, I know it, even Wilhelmina knows it! She divorced him too quickly, she never took any of the responsibility for the breakdown of the marriage."

Marc stopped abruptly, his arm jerking as Hudson strained on the leash. "Why should she! He cheated Betty! What part of that do you think is forgivable?"

"Come on you know as well as me that she was hard on him for a long time!" She wouldn't let Marc make out Wilhelmina was completely blameless.

"HEY!" He shouted, stopping her train of thought. "You haven't been here Betty! You have been on the other side of the Atlantic; the only insight into their marriage that you had was all one-sided phone calls from that jerk you still call a friend. I've been here Betty; I've seen them together every day. I watched them grow from the beginning and I watched them fall apart." He took a deep breath and lowered his tone. "I admit she is most certainly no saint, but this…" He shook his head. "This was not her doing."

Betty folded her arms tighter around her body, shielding herself from the wind and the truth in Marc's words; the truth was she didn't want to accept that her friend, the good guy, was the one in the wrong. "I'm sorry." She spoke softly, looking off to the side, finding it difficult to find the words. "I guess with me being away…I'm more used to the Wilhelmina I knew when I was Daniel's assistant. The stone cold bitch who never gave anyone their chance to shine."

"That's not her anymore." Marc told her with a small smile.

Betty nodded slowly. "Apparently not." She cleared her throat, desperate for a change in subject. "Why did she want to see me anyway? Do you know?"

He walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulders and they resumed walking, much to Hudson's delight. "You know that stone cold bitch, you were just talking about, who never gives anyone the chance to shine?"

"Yeah?"

Marc grinned down at her. "She wants us to run Mode while she's at the retreat. She wants to sequester you for what she called; your adept editorial skills."

"Okay…now I feel like the bitch." She laughed. "So, me and you huh? Working together again?"

"Yep!" He nudged her with his hip. "But I'm totally your boss."

So I've learned that love's not possession

And I've learned that love won't wait

"So I'm perfect?" She teased Sawyer, feeling in a slightly better mood now that there were considerably less people in her apartment.

"Accordin' to my boy here, yes you are." The deep voice boomed from behind her. "Could I trouble you for a drink Ms Slater?"

Wilhelmina walked past him into the kitchen. "Call me Wilhelmina." She smiled on her way past and pulled a pitcher of fresh juice from the fridge, which she had still neglected to adequately stock.

Sawyer followed her and stopped to speak in his father's ear. "I think she likes you pop, it was days before I was awarded that honour." He joked.

Albert took the glass Wilhelmina handed to him and looked from her to his son. Although both were looking at him, he couldn't miss the subtle shifts in their eyes as they snuck each other sideways glances. He knew his son; he was smitten.

"I'm sorry to just barge in here unannounced but I'm not in town often and I thought it best we meet before I head back to Texas. My wife expressed some…concerns, shall we say."

"Dad!" Sawyer warned. "I told you this morning, this is not the time." He turned to Wilhelmina. "I'm sorry, this is way too soon I know."

Willie smirked at the two men. "It's fine, he's forthright, I can respect that. Say your piece Mr Reinhardt."

The older man nodded in acquiescence and stood, buttoning his coat, the old fashioned manners suited him. "Sawyer is my only son, my first born, his happiness is very important to me. It's why I was more than happy to relinquish him from the ties of the family business and let him make his own path in this world. I admire him for his outlook on life, he sees the best in people, he's the eternal optimist. That's why sometimes I have to question his decisions, sometimes I feel he chases his happiness without bargaining for the consequences."

"Dad!" Sawyer exclaimed.

"Quiet." His father said in a quiet voice, he was not being unkind or demanding, but the respect that Sawyer had been instilled with for his elders as he grew up, forced him into silence.

Albert smiled. "I'm not here to demoralise anyone's character or to place any pressure on the situation. I'm aware that if this…even is anything…then it's still in the early days."

"Early days? It's barely hatched." Wilhelmina raised an eyebrow. "Look I don't want to be rude, but what's your point?"

Sawyers father shone a smile at her, so similar to his son's it made her grin back. "My point is; my wife is what you might call a follower of the rich and famous. Celebrity scandals are her bread and butter, she's read quite a lot on you Ms Slater."

"I told you, it's Wilhelmina, and you shouldn't believe everything you read."

"Quite." He chuckled. "I'm not concerned with all the tales of evil deeds and misdemeanours; everyone has a past. What I care about is that you are just coming off a highly publicised break up, and from what my wife has told me, yours was quite a love affair."

For the first time since he had followed his son to her home, Albert saw Wilhelmina's eyes flinch at the mention of her failed marriage. She quickly composed herself and righted her stare. "Whatever it was, whatever it was perceived to be, it's over now." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I've been more than hospitable, letting you into my home and listening to what you have to say, but I am not going to make you any promises, it's way too early for that. You can't show up here, 24 hours in, and ask me to put a label on something I haven't even had time to process yet. I can tell you this though; I do care for him and it is not my intention to hurt him in any way." She held the older mans eyes but she could feel herself under Sawyer's focus.

Albert lifted his Stetson from her kitchen counter. "I guess that's all I can ask for. One more thing though, it's tacky and I hate to bring it up, but with my family it's a necessity; Sawyer, as you know, comes from a very wealthy-"

"Dad stop!" Sawyer jumped from his position in the corner. "That is out of line. Now like she said, she has been more than gracious listening to what you have to say. If I was her I woulda been so freaked out I woulda thrown us both out on our asses, you should go Dad."

"Son, I'm just trying to protect what me and my father before me worked for." He reasoned. "It's better to get this stuff dealt with right at the beginning, then everyone knows where they stand."

Wilhelmina was beginning to lose her good mood once again as she listened to the man basically imply she was a gold-digger. "Not that it's any of your business, but I am about to receive a substantial settlement from my ex-husband, money is not a motivation for me, it never was."

"I apologise, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just doing what I believe best for my son." He smiled, truly upset he had offended her, he had the same level of tact as all the men in the family. No matter how much finesse he tried to put into his words, he always managed to come across heavy-handed. "For what it's worth…" He took her hand in his and clasped it. "I agree with Sawyer."

With a final smile he walked to the door, his son hot on his heels to see him out. Sawyer opened the door and his father stepped through it, turning to say goodbye to his child. Sawyer leaned across the threshold. "Well?"

Albert brought a hand up to roughly pat Sawyers shoulder. "I like her son. She says what she means, she aint after you for your money and she sure as hell don't suffer no fools. What's not to like?"

Sawyer grinned at his dad, the mans opinion meant more to him than anyone else's. "Thank you Dad."

"But she still has a lot of baggage son, you are walking into a minefield here." His tone sobered. "I hope she's worth it."

"She is." He whispered, closing the door slowly behind his father. Walking back into the kitchen he stopped at the door and watched her as she moved about the room. "I really don't know what to say. I understand if you're completely freaked out, that was…that was…I don't know what the hell that was." He finished, exasperated.

She walked to him, a determined glint in her eye and Sawyer paled. "Look, he's a crazy old man, don't let him put this into a spin, let's just pret-"

She placed a finger to his lips when she was in front of him. "Shut up." She pushed herself in to him and tilted her head to meet his lips. His confusion quickly eased away as he began to respond under her kiss. His hand went to the small of her back to hold her closer, but she pulled her head back, breaking their kiss.

"Okay, not what I was expecting. I aint complainin' but definitely not what I was expecting." He rubbed his hands over her shoulders.

Willie smiled, comfortable in his arms, the impromptu visit by her new lovers father had dispelled the earlier awkwardness between them. "You know what, I don't care. It's fine, refreshing actually, to have someone come in, put their cards on the table and be straight to the point; no games, no bullshit. I've had enough of that to last me." Her hands moved down to his muscular butt and pulled against it, bringing him into even more contact.

"Remind me to send my old man a big ol' bottle of whiskey as a thank you." His smile threatened to split his face as his lips descended on hers again.

Both her hands went into his hair and held his head, as they got lost in the heat of the kiss. He used his hands to push her backward and pressed her against the counter.

"GOD I'M GOOD!" A shrill voice exclaimed, ruining the moment as they quickly pulled apart and looked for the source.

Marc stood grinning in the kitchen doorway, the puppy sitting obediently at his heels taking in the scene before him. "So…I told Betty everything about Mode, she's onboard. She went home, good thing huh?" He leered idiotically. "I'll leave you two to…talk!" he added, sarcastically. "Enjoy the retreat, call me if you need me and I'll come by twice a day to see to Hudson." He moved to leave.

"Marc." Willie called, halting him. "There's no need. Sawyer will be staying here when I'm gone."

"I will?" Sawyer asked her, a smile creeping up.

She looked at him. "If you want to, I kinda want you here when I get back."

Marc rolled his eyes. "I forgot how nauseating you were when you were in the beginnings of a relationship." He gagged.

"You can go." She told him with a warning note in her voice.

With a last fleeting look at the new, unlikely couple, Marc turned and left. When Sawyer heard the door close, he tilted his head at the woman he pulled back into his arms.

"So you want me around huh?"

She tried and failed not to smile at his tease. "Well that, and I don't want to risk you walking some other socialites pooch and falling for her charms."

"Never."

Now I've learned that love needs expression

But I've learned too late

Monday, mid-morning, Amanda looked around the closet; the grey and purple interior in stark contrast to the orange and white she had called home for years. It was only her first day but she could tell people were avoiding her, talking behind her back and she had heard more than one joke about Penelope keeping her husband out the office while the she was in the building; screwing the spouse of the Editor-In-Chief being her speciality.

She could deal with the bitches and the gossips, she was more than used to it in this business. She was no longer the little girl who had to bitch louder and longer just in order to feel accepted, she was happy getting by on her own merits now, being appreciated for her talent.

She had only pulled together two pieces so far for the upcoming shoot that afternoon, but she had received praise from both Penelope and Carlos Medina. She was glowing with pride, dulled only slightly by the fact that she had no one within the building that she could share her accomplishment with.

The ever present guilt began to gnaw at her again when she recalled the first time she had received praise for her work; it had come from Wilhelmina and the editor had immediately put her name forward to assist at all upcoming Mode shows. She pressed the consuming feeling back down, choosing to replace it with anger towards the woman for all she had caused her in recent weeks. It was easier to stay angry with her, no matter how irrational; anger didn't eat her from the inside like guilt did.

She focussed instead on the good job she had done, the job she would continue to do. She had to tell someone, had to have someone congratulate her and share in her revelry. Amanda thought it was the perfect excuse to call Marc, to try and put the argument they had had behind them. She hated fighting with him, she wanted to forget it had ever happened and most of all she wanted to forget that he had said he would pick Wilhelmina over her.

She picked up the phone and dialled his number. "Hey Marc, guess what!" She greeted him happily when he answered, without giving him a chance to speak.

She heard a deep sigh coming down the phone. "Not now Amanda, I'm up to my eyes in it. Betty and me are in charge of Mode this week and we're only 3 hours on and already WAY behind. I'll talk to you later." He hung up on her.

Amanda stared at the phone, crestfallen. She had no one; Wilhelmina had everyone that she had held dear to her. Daniel was at the retreat with Wilhelmina, no doubt still pining and Marc and Betty were both working for her.

She was alone.

And she's out of my life

She's out of my life

Damned indecision and cursed pride

Kept my love for her locked deep inside

Daniel sat behind the wheel of his pride and joy, his Lexus; he hadn't driven outside the city in months. The last time had been when he and Wilhelmina had taken a rare few days away and headed upstate. He grimaced as he recalled that was before they had even married, they hadn't made time for themselves as a couple in over two years, forgoing even a honeymoon in order to concentrate on their new working arrangement with him as CEO.

He was driving it now for three reasons; one, the car he was scheduled to journey to the retreat in was also taking his mother and Wilhelmina there, two, the drive up there could hopefully provide him with the reflection he needed to mentally prepare himself for the week ahead and three, it was more than likely this would be his last chance to drive it, seen as it almost definitely stood to be part of the settlement he was soon to hand over to his ex-wife.

He had been lost in thought, as he had been since the moment he signed the papers, so lost he didn't notice that he had lost his bearings and taken a wrong turn somewhere. He had driven to Talmedge hall on several occasions and he did not recognise anything around him.

He pulled the car over and cursed himself for not taking the GPS upgrade the salesman had offered. Reaching in the glove compartment for a map, he got out the car and spread it across the bonnet. For the first time in his life he was thankful that his parents had forced him into the mundane world of Boy Scouts as a child. Locating his error, he retraced the route and knew where he had to turn back.

He got back in the car and stored the map away, pulling a pair of sunglasses down from his forehead to shield his eyes. He turned the key to rev the engine.

Nothing.

Checking the full gauge, he saw he still had half a tank. He waited a couple of seconds and twisted the key again.

Nothing.

"Shit!"

And it cuts like a knife

She's out of my life