Della's Dream Job
Della was just entering her apartment when the phone started ringing. She dropped the bag of groceries on a chair and hurried to grab the receiver. "Hello?"
Hearing her breathless voice caused Perry to pause a moment. "Hello, Del...uh, Miss Street? This is Perry Mason. Have I caught you at a bad time?"
The unexpected call had caused Della to suffer a momentary loss for words.
"Miss Street?"
"Oh, hello, Mr. Mason. No, I was just coming in the door. So no, it's not a bad time. I was just..." She stopped talking and silently reprimanded herself for babbling.
"Miss Street, I was hoping to convince you to have dinner with me tonight. I know that this is very short notice but I have something I'd like to talk to you about."
"If it's about what happened at the dance, I really don't think there's anything to discuss." Her gut reaction was to avoid complicating matters any further by simply avoiding Perry Mason for the foreseeable future.
Perry winced at the somewhat cold tone in her voice. "Please, Miss Street. I sincerely apologize for my part in the unfortunate events of the evening. This is a different matter, however. It's in the nature of a business proposal."
Now, despite her misgivings, Della was intrigued. "Well, I suppose a girl's got to eat. What kind of dinner did you have in mind?"
Perry let out a breath and chuckled softly. "Well, if it's up to your standards, what about Clay's around 7 tonight?"
Della hesitated for only a moment. She knew Clay and two of the waitresses, so she would feel comfortable and safe. "Alright, Mr. Mason. I will meet you there at 7."
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When Della arrived at Clay's, the owner greeted her at the door with a welcoming smile. "Good evening, Miss Street. If you'll follow me, Mr. Mason is waiting for you."
"Thank you Clay." She followed him to a booth in the back corner. Perry scooted out from behind the table and jumped to his feet a little awkwardly.
"Hello, Miss Street. Thank you for coming."
Clay cleared his throat and Perry quickly recovered. "Clay, I'd like a scotch and would you bring the lady a…?" He raised his eyebrows at Della.
"A glass of red wine would be just fine."
"Right away, Mr. Mason." Clay turned and strode purposefully toward the bar.
Perry guided Della into the booth, then returned to his seat opposite her, resting his arms on the table and folding his hands tightly in front of him. Della sensed his nervousness, and she began to worry about what kind of "proposal" that she should expect. Avoiding eye contact, she picked up the menu and started to study it, giving them both time to get used to each other's company again. But she could feel his eyes on her. She lowered the menu and smiled at him.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to order our food and then resume your staring?"
Perry laughed. "You did say that you have a healthy appetite." Della cocked her head, giving him a quizzical look, to which he responded with a dimpled grin, "I overheard you at the dance."
"Oh. Well, then, since you did lure me out here with the promise of dinner, let's have it."
Perry shook his head in amusement and chuckled again as the waitress arrived with the drinks.
"Are you ready to order your meals, Sir?" Perry looked at Della, received a nod and turned back to the waitress, whose pen was poised over her notepad.
He started, "The lady will have the…" then he paused and turned back to Della, steepling his forefingers and resting his chin on the tips. "I'm guessing you're a steak and potatoes kind of girl; am I right?" His eyes twinkled, and Della wondered if he was teasing her.
"As a matter of fact, Mr. Mason, I will have Clay's Prime Ribeye Special." She deliberately chose the most expensive dinner on the menu to see if he would flinch.
Without missing a beat, Perry swung his head back and addressed the waitress, who was already scribbling intently. "Then let's make that two Ribeye specials, please."
The waitress hurried off and Perry dropped his hands in his lap and sat up straight. Della watched him square his shoulders stiffly. In response, she deliberately leaned back comfortably against the booth cushion as she re-crossed her legs. She arched her eyebrows questioningly.
Perry recognized the mischievous gleam in her eyes and had a brief flashback to her dressing-down of Laura at the ABA dinner. He realized that she wasn't going to make this easy for him, so he plunged right in, "While we wait, would you like to hear my offer?"
"Oh, yes, please. I have to admit, I'm rather like a cat...too curious at times."
Perry smiled at her description. What he had seen of her did remind him of a cat. Graceful, clever and sleek, but with tiny sharp claws that she didn't hesitate to use when necessary.
He met her eyes and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, so that he could twist his hands together unseen beneath the table. He knew that the nervous habit was his tell, and he didn't want to give Della any more of an upper hand than she already had. "I have it on good authority that Hamilton's secretary is returning and that you will be looking for a new position."
"Ah, the grapevine strikes again. It's a wonder the press doesn't plant a mole in the secretaries' lunchroom to glean some of that chatter for the local society columns and gossip pages." She took a sip of her wine as she paused. "But yes, Mr. Mason, your information is correct."
"Very well. I suppose you may have heard through that same grapevine, as you call it, that my current secretary will be changing her occupation to housewife. Based on your excellent reputation and experience, I would like to hire you to replace Carol. I can promise a substantial increase in salary, as the work will be much more difficult than what you do now."
Della's eyes narrowed, taking on a dark and frosty glare. "How dare you!"
Perry was startled and sat up straight. "Excuse me, what did I say?"
Della started to slide out of the booth but he reached across the table for her hand. "Miss Street, wait, please. Tell me, what did I say wrong?"
She pulled her hand away but stayed seated, crossing her arms across her chest. Meeting his eyes with a confident, steely gaze, she replied, "I can't believe that you would think that I could be tempted to betray privileged information to my boss'…opponent! I would think the ethics of it alone would prevent you from..." She trailed off and turned away to hide her look of disdain.
Perry felt the sting of her words just as strongly as he had Laura's palm on his face. But Della's reprimand hurt much more, because he cared about what she thought of him. "No, wait. Please listen," he pleaded. "You misunderstand me. I would never ask you to do anything unethical. I assure you that I am offering you a position as my confidential secretary, not as a confidential informant. If you would like the job, I can go over the ground rules with Hamilton to make sure there will be no conflicts of interest. Please don't say no before you hear me out."
Della relaxed slightly. "Alright."
"'Alright' you'll stay and listen, or 'alright' you'll take the job?"
He was certainly a man who didn't beat around the bush, she thought. "Alright, I'll stay...for the prime rib," she said firmly.
Perry finally let out a breath and sat back. "Thank you."
By the time their dinner was served, they had found a comfortable level of small talk. Perry discovered quickly that Della was indeed a good eater. He couldn't help but notice the rather sensual way that she slid the fork out of her mouth and flicked her tongue across her lips to catch any stray bits of sauce. He prided himself on his ability to read people, but he couldn't decide if Della was flirting with him or just enjoying her dinner. After they had finished their entrees, Clay surprised them with his signature dessert, a molten chocolate cake with fudge sauce and whipped cream, set in the middle of the table, with a spoon for each of them. At one point, Della licked a spot of whipped cream from her finger and Perry had to grip his knees under the table and bite down on his tongue to keep his face and body from reacting.
When the plates were cleared, they sat quietly, Perry nursing another scotch and Della sipping coffee. Perry hesitantly broached the subject of the job again.
"Della, please reconsider my earlier offer. I am not going to lie to you; the workdays are long and I have been known to associate with some pretty unsavory characters at odd hours. I usually have to be reminded that my staff requires food and sleep. But I would compensate you accordingly for your hard work and dedication. You'll sit with me in meetings and in court, to observe, take notes and assist me as necessary. I need someone I can trust, and my instinct tells me that you're the right person for the job."
Della held up her hand. "Stop right there. There is something we need to discuss before you go any further."
"Alright..." Perry waited, expecting a question about vacation time or other benefits.
"What about the incident at the Bar Association dinner?"
"What?" Perry was momentarily caught off-guard by Della's bluntness. "Look, she's not going to be..."
She shook her head. "Oh, not her," she said dismissively, then paused and looked Perry in the eyes. "I'm talking about what happened on the terrace."
Perry felt the warmth spreading across his face and hoped that Della couldn't see his embarrassment. "I am very sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I probably had a little too much to drink and I made a mistake. I know how you feel about workplace...ah...hanky-panky." He could not believe he had just used that phrase. "You have my solemn promise that you will be perfectly safe in our office."
She was surprised at the twinge of disappointment that she felt at his vehemence. He obviously regretted their kiss and wasn't interested in her as anything more than a replacement secretary. She hadn't expected it to be that simple, but now that she knew how he felt, it was something of a relief that she could put the incident behind her.
She paused for a moment to weigh the sincerity of his words, taking a deep breath. She released it slowly, then nodded once. "Okay, Mr. Mason."
Perry searched her face for some hint of how to interpret her answer. Unable to read her expression, he tilted his head slightly. "'Okay' what?"
She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. "Okay, I will accept your offer on one condition."
Uh-oh, Perry thought, a little worried. "What condition?"
"If Mr. Burger has any objections to this - on any grounds - I cannot take the job. You will have to get his approval and blessing before making a formal offer to me."
Perry felt his stomach clench. He had known that it would be difficult to replace Carol, but he hadn't anticipated and wasn't looking forward to groveling at Hamilton Burger's feet.