Perry's Birthday
by thekmb
May, 1957
She knew that it was Tuesday of next week. He hadn't mentioned it, so she assumed that he assumed that she didn't know. And that he wasn't going to tell her. She'd taken note of the date - as any observant secretary worth her salary would have - when she had opened the envelope with his license renewal form from the State Bar a month ago. She had quickly done the math. He's turning forty, and probably doesn't want anyone to make a fuss.
Della knew better than to count on Perry's best friend Paul Drake to help her plan a surprise celebration. Although trustworthy and discreet in his professional role as a private detective, he would undoubtedly spill the plans to his buddy in a minute. Not intentionally, of course, but because…well, because he's Paul. Adorable, yes - in brotherly sort of way. A mastermind, no. Della had sworn their receptionist Gertie to secrecy and the two of them had immediately gotten to work.
Della knew that she couldn't compete with Perry's generosity when it came to a gift. Last month, for her birthday, he'd presented her with a gold bracelet. It was graceful and stylish, and fit perfectly. She was stunned by the understated sophistication of the jewelry, but not surprised that a man like Perry had picked it out. A bachelor at forty, Della thought. What am I missing? Perry Mason was brilliant, classy, witty, gallant and handsome, not to mention a successful and well-known attorney. The kind of man that any woman would love to bring home to her parents, or just home to her apartment, if she were that kind of girl. Which Della certainly was not. It wasn't that she was naïve or inexperienced, she was just more interested in her career and her independence than in some man slobbering and pawing all over her.
Della considered her relationship with her boss. She was certainly very comfortable with Perry and they had an easy rapport. But aside from some innocent flirting, lingering touches and a few ambiguous remarks and gazes, Della had no evidence to make her think that Perry was interested in her as anything more than his secretary and confidante. While she often accompanied Perry to a restaurant or a party, he had never been anything but the perfect gentleman, walking her to her apartment at the end of the evening and waiting until she was inside safely. More than once, she regretted not asking him in for a nightcap, but then had chastised herself for her so obviously improper thoughts.
~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~
Perry was in a funk. He'd be forty next week, and wasn't sure how he felt about the milestone. On the one hand, it was just a number, no different from thirty-nine or forty-one, really. On the other hand, as his mother had put it on the phone last weekend, "most folks are married and starting a family by your age." He had tried to argue with her that he had different priorities right now, but he had never won a case against Rosemary Mason, and she wasn't about to give up now.
He wasn't sure why he was letting her words bother him so much. He had been content with his professional success, and it wasn't like there was a shortage of women who were interested in him. He just didn't reciprocate their feelings. In fact, he couldn't remember the last date he'd been on. Since he had hired Della, she had taken on the role of his de facto escort to any functions that he was expected to attend. She was the perfect companion: smart, graceful, funny, charming and beautiful. The kind of woman that his mother would love for him to bring home and that every man in his right mind would love to take home to his bedroom. But Della Street wasn't a one-night kind of girl. And, besides, despite a few enigmatic comments and coy smiles, he hadn't picked up any solid signals that she considered him much more than her employer, and hopefully, a trusted friend.
Della was unpredictable and inscrutable, qualities that he somehow found both disconcerting and tantalizing. He had always prided himself on his ability to read people. In fact, his success as a criminal lawyer depended on those unfailing instincts to detect deceit or guilt in a potential client or a witness. But Della was a tough case, and he had spent more time than he would like to admit trying to figure her out. I never could resist a good mystery, he thought.
And lately, leaving her at her door after a long evening, he had been feeling an inexplicable pang of… Well, he wasn't even sure what it was, but since it recently had begun to migrate from his chest down below his belt, he suspected that he was going to get into trouble if he didn't force himself to suppress the inappropriate thoughts that had been niggling at the back of his mind.
~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~
Tuesday, May 21, 1957, 6:20pm
Della sat at the conference table quietly transcribing her notes from the afternoon's trial. Perry suddenly looked up from the stack of papers on his desk that he'd been pretending to read for the last fifteen minutes. Hoping that it sounded and casual and unrehearsed, he asked, "Della, why don't we cut out a little early tonight and try out that new bistro on Grand? You look like you could use a good steak." He smiled and brought his hand up to rest his chin and waited for her answer.
Della wrinkled her brow, frowned slightly and looked at her watch. "Oh, I'm sorry, Perry. I was just about to ask you if we could go down and grab a quick bite at Clay's. I have a little bit of a headache and was hoping to get to bed early tonight. What time are we expected in court tomorrow?"
"Oh, not until ten o'clock," Perry, responded, hoping that he was successfully hiding his disappointment. It was just as well, he supposed. With the mood that he was in, he was likely to say something awkward and ruin things between the two of them. "We're done here. Let's go get you fed and I'll take you home."
Della gave him a grateful smile and they stood up at the same time. She grabbed her purse and shawl, Perry slipped on his coat and straightened his tie, then took her arm, and they were in the elevator in just five minutes.
~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~
Perry let go of Della's waist and held the door open for her, taking the opportunity to admire her figure while she stepped inside. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, chastising himself. It's just a birthday, for Pete's sake; no need to fall into my mother's sentimental trappings. He was so distracted that he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until he was two strides into the restaurant.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
Although he had always hated being surprised, Perry had become an expert at controlling his expressions after his first year of going head-to-head in open court with District Attorney Hamilton Burger. He quickly glanced around the room before allowing a slow smile to creep over his face.
Paul stood at the front of the small group, clapping and whistling. Margo, secretary for the Drake Agency, stood on one side of Paul, with Gertie on the other. Burger was there, along with his trusty cohort, homicide detective Lieutenant Arthur Tragg. The two men were Perry's nemeses by day, but between cases, the trio grudgingly admitted to a genuine camaraderie. Perry also spotted Stewart Brent, the building's landlord, with his wife Anne, standing to the side with Clay and his staff.
"Whose birthday is it?" Perry clasped his hands behind his back, cocked his head and raised his eyebrows at Della, feigning a questioning look.
"Why, Mister Mason, someone told us that it was yours," she answered mischievously.
With mock belligerence, Burger called out, "C'mon, Perry, admit that you've been beat, already! I'm not legally permitted to object to your stalling techniques and grandstanding until we're in front of the judge tomorrow, and I need some sustenance before then."
"Tell you what, Hamilton. Suppose you just concede defeat right now, and we'll call it my birthday present?" Perry retorted quickly with a smirk.
Tragg stepped forward and waved his hat between them. "Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time for this flirty banter in court. Besides, I've only got one cell left at County, and if you two don't keep it civil, I can arrange for you to share it tonight."
Perry and Hamilton affected matching looks of horror, getting a laugh from the group.
Clay clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Please, everyone, have a seat and enjoy the party. Dinner will be served shortly. In the meantime, the bar is open, and Mister Brent has generously sponsored the drinks tonight." There was a smattering of applause, at which Stewart and Anne nodded graciously.
As Perry made his obligatory rounds of the guests, he realized how much he was actually enjoying himself. Dinner was delicious, of course - Clay had chosen the menu carefully to include every one of Perry's favorites. And instead of a traditional birthday cake, he rolled out a tray with an enormous Baked Alaska, topped with four lit candles. Perry closed his eyes momentarily, making his wish and extinguishing the candles in one breath. He made eye contact with Della from across the room and she smiled warmly at him.
After dessert, Perry made his way over to the bar, where Della was picking up two glasses. She turned around and almost bumped into Perry, gasping and spilling a few drops of one of the drinks. Perry touched her arm to steady her. "How's the headache?" he asked with a sly smile and twinkling eyes. Her cheeks flushed and she giggled. "Oh, fine, Boss, just fine. I'm sorry I tricked you." "Quite alright, Miss Street. It seems that it was for a good cause. Although, I have to ask…am I that easy to deceive?" Della nodded over his shoulder and lowered her voice, "We'll discuss that later. I wouldn't want to give the enemy any ideas."
Speaking up, she said, "There you are, Hamilton, just in time. Perry was just trying to badger me into giving him your drink." She handed the full glass to the DA, who was already looking a little tipsy. Burger looked suspiciously at his scotch and then glared at Perry. "I'll bet he was. You didn't see him slipping anything into it, did you? Listen, Della, when you get tired of working for this shyster, you come see me and I'll give you the best job in the city." Della laughed and put her hand on his arm, replying, "That sounds just dandy, Hamilton. I'll keep your offer in mind."
Soon after, things were winding down and everyone had congratulated Perry, getting in as many "old man" jokes as they dared. As Perry thanked the Brents for their attendance and contribution, Anne slipped him a small velvet box. Perry was temporarily and uncharacteristically speechless. Anne patted his hand, "Don't worry, it's just a small gift for our best tenant and the finest attorney that we know. I have admired your exquisite cufflinks and thought of you when I spotted this pair the other day." Perry shook Stewart's hand and gave Anne a kiss on the cheek.
Paul was the next to excuse himself. He pulled Perry's handshake into a hug and said in his ear, "No offense, pal, but I've got a date with a leggy redhead, and I don't want to keep the little lady waiting." Perry patted him on the back and laughed heartily. "No, Paul, I don't suppose you do. Thank you for this. I'm sure that you and I have never discussed birthdays, so it would seem that you are an even better sleuth than I give you credit for." Paul shook his head and pointed at Della, who quickly looked at the floor. "Un-uh. It wasn't me; it was all that one." Perry let a momentary look of surprise pass over his face before regaining his composure and wishing Paul luck.
Paul walked out the front door with Gertie on one arm and Margo on the other, hailing them a taxi at the curb, and handing the driver more than enough to get both of them safely home.
As the last few partygoers gathered their things, Perry waved a goodbye and boomed a "thank you" across the room to Clay and his crew, who were busy cleaning up.
Burger stood up, a little unsteadily, and jokingly accusing Perry of deliberately overfilling that last round of scotch to tempt him to oversleep for court in the morning. Perry just shook his head. "Better take a cab, Hamilton. One call from a 'shyster' defense attorney could land you a citation for driving under the influence, and I would hate to have to square off against one of your more capable associates tomorrow."
"Mason, if it wasn't your birthday, I'd …" the D.A. growled good-naturedly. Tragg appeared next to him and patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon Hamilton, I'll give you a lift. Goodnight, Perry, and try to keep out of trouble, just for tonight, would ya? I've got enough cases on my desk this week."
Perry let out a hearty laugh, and replied, "You'll have to take that up with my secretary. I have finally deduced that she's the one in charge this evening."
"Oh? Hasn't she always been?" Tragg said with a wink at Della, who, without hesitation, blew him a kiss and replied, "Goodnight, Arthur, and thank you." The lieutenant tipped his hat toward her in an attempt to hide his reddening cheeks.
~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~
Perry helped Della into the Cadillac, and then climbed into the driver's seat. He turned and smiled at her before turning the key. "Thank you. Apparently, you coordinated this whole thing. But how did you know?"
"A girl's gotta have a few secrets, doesn't she?" Della replied coyly, batting her eyelashes.
He let out a deep laugh and reached across the seat to put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. "You know, I am a lawyer. I could just interrogate you until you tell me the whole truth."
She scooted a bit closer so that she could rest her head on his chest, breathing in a hint of his cologne. "Mister Mason, are you comparing me to a common criminal? I'm offended."
Perry laughed again at her act and squeezed her arm. "No, Della. You are anything but common." He let the comment linger in the air as he deftly steered the car out into the street with his left hand.
Della considered a couple of clever retorts, but the moment passed and she instead closed her eyes and let herself completely relax into Perry's hold.
"Are you cold?" Perry asked with concern, ever the gentleman. "I should have offered you my jacket."
"No, I'm fine. We're almost home." She sighed quietly, wishing that the night weren't ending so soon. As much as she enjoyed a party, she treasured her alone time with Perry. She felt more "at home" when they were just working together in the office than when she was by herself in her own apartment.
~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~PD~
Perry kept his hand on her lower back as he leaned around her to put her key in the lock. As he turned the knob, she pivoted toward him little too quickly, and almost lost her balance. He caught her at the waist and pulled her to him to steady her. He nervously dropped his hand from her hip, took a small step back, and reached around to push the door open for her.
"Thank you, again, Della." Perry looked her directly in the eyes so that she could see his sincerity. "I didn't think I wanted anyone to know about today, but I had a wonderful evening. I have to say, it worries me a bit that you sometimes know me better than I know myself." He tugged on his ear nervously. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve you, but I certainly hope that I'm paying you enough to fend off the inevitable offers that you'll receive from the other sharks in L.A."
She held his gaze, and said quietly, "Don't worry, Chief. I've already told most of them 'no.'"
They stood in the doorway in silence, looking into each other's eyes for what seemed like minutes.
"Della –" "Perry –" they said in unison. Della broke the stare and looked down, giggling self-consciously. Perry brought his knuckle to her chin and tipped her head back up so that he could memorize her face. This had been a near-perfect evening and he wanted to remember it forever. "Ladies first."
"Well…I was just wondering…if the birthday boy wanted to come in for a nightcap." Before Perry could see the blush that was quickly darkening her cheeks, she turned and walked inside, leaving him standing at the open door, her keys still in his hand.
Now, it wouldn't be right to refuse the request of a lady, would it? he asked himself, a grin spreading across his face.
As he stepped inside, he pushed the door gently shut behind him, thinking that his birthday wish just might be coming true.