CHAPTER 7

"Good morning, sunshine!" Angela grimaced as Tony pulled open the curtains to a bright and snowy New York Saturday morning. "It's almost 9. I took the liberty of ordering us a little breakfast - it should be here in a few minutes. I also called Mona to see if she can wait at the house, Henry's mom is dropping Jonathan off at 10 and Sam should be back around then too." There was a knock at the door; Tony pulled the room service cart into the room and quickly signed the ticket.

"Good idea - oh - what did you tell Mother?" she asked, as he placed the tray beside her.

"I just told her the truth - nothing happened, but we got carried away talking about my job offer and the snow forced us to stay in the city for the night."

"Honestly she'll probably believe it. I think she's starting to lose hope on us," she said, taking a bite of her bagel.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she had seen the forecast and planned it. She was disappointed to say the least," he smiled and sat next to her on the edge of the bed as she took a sip of her coffee, "but now we don't have to hurry back." He pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock, curled up next to you," she blushed as a smile crept across his face. "Probably the soundest I've slept in months. You?"

"Oh me? Well, I had a hard time at first, you know that perfume you were wearing was - wow - it was kind of driving me crazy," he said sheepishly. "But I got there eventually."

Her mouth twitched with delight, "Tony, I wasn't wearing perfume. I almost never do."

His eyebrows shot up, "Well you did that night of our anniversary, the night I got so sick! And when Jonathan set us up on Valentine's Day. And at Isabelle's wedding, too. I know you do sometimes, it's the bottle on your dressing table!" She smiled at his indignance, and his sharp recall of every instance she had worn perfume - usually, for him. She was secretly touched; he was much more tuned into her than she'd realized.

"OK, yes, sometimes I do wear perfume, on special occasions. Usually it's too strong for me though, I don't wear it every day," feeling him studying her, she studied her hands self-consciously, feeling a little more bashful about their new situation in the morning light.

"So Tony," she cleared her throat and sang, a little too happily, "I guess we go home today and it's...back to life as usual!"

"Uh, yeah, I, uh, guess so. I'm hoping I'll hear from Mr. Winslow this week. And then we can take it from there. But, Ange, I want you to know, I had the best time last night. We don't necessarily need…" – he struggled to find the words, gesturing to the bed – "all that. I just enjoy being with you, just us. And I'm glad we did this."

She smiled. "Me too."

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"Good morning, Mother!" Angela said breezily as Tony opened the backdoor for her.

"Hiya Mone, what's shakin?"

"Oh cut the crap you two, I want to hear about your wild night on the town!" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Thanks for holding down the fort, Mother. Tony told you, nothing happened, we just lost track of time and stayed in the City for the night. Where's Jonathan?"

"He got back an hour ago, he's upstairs. Samantha isn't home yet but called from Marci's, she should be here any minute." Mona's eyes narrowed as she studied them both. "So, not even a serendipitous night in a fancy hotel could get you two together eh? And what about this interview, Tony? Are you leaving us for Capitol Hill?"

"No, Mona. At least, not permanently. I'm not really sure what's happening there but I thought it was important I pursue it fully. I promise to let everyone know as soon as I know more. And Mona, let's not tell the kids about my and Angela's - you know."

"Your and and Mom's what, Tony? Your night in the city? Grandma already told me. Does this mean you're finally getting married?" The color drained from Angela's face as Jonathan appeared and grabbed an apple from the fridge. She glared accusatorily at her mother.

Mona feigned a guilty face. "Oops, sorry - was that a secret?" She asked as Samantha sauntered in through the back door.

"Was what a secret?" Sam asked, pouring herself a glass of juice.

"Mom and Tony spent the night in the city last night at a hotel!"

Samantha's face lit up in approval. "All right guys! It's about time!"

"Nothing happened!" They replied in exasperated unison.

"Samantha, we just got snowed in in the city. Nothing happened, everything is as it was, the end, finite."

"Whatever you say, guys. Don't think we don't see all those stolen glances over the dinner table," she teased, giving Mona a knowing look.

"Yeah, and Tony you buy Mom flowers every week, and you go dancing together. Sometimes you're even dancing in the house with no music on!"

"And don't get us started on all the flirting you two do right under our noses. There is enough electricity in this house to light up a small city," Mona added plainly.

"Will you guys cut it out? What is this, Law and Order? Jonathan, those flowers are for the house. And we do not flirt. We're just kidding around, lightening the mood. But of course Angela and I care about each other. Of course we do. Because we're a family. We don't need to take that step to be a family, and to care about each other. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd let us be," he growled through his teeth.

"All right, all right. Nothing's happened after all these years, why should it happen now?" Mona said wistfully over her shoulder as they filed out of the kitchen.

Alone again in the wake of the ambush, Tony finally locked eyes with Angela, which he'd been avoiding to keep from arousing any suspicions. "Madonna mi, what a pain in the rear those three are! You ok?" He asked as he began clearing the table.

She nodded, inhaling deeply as she smoothed her hair in an effort to regain her composure, "Yes. I'm ok." She turned on the tap to fill the coffeemaker with water; it had been a late evening and she wasn't quite herself yet.

"You got quiet again."

"We are just - we are just so complicated, Tony. I mean, even they want us to be together. This is going to be hard," she blurted out, fiddling hopelessly with the coffeemaker filter.

He approached her from behind, his hand on the small of her back, gently taking the bag of coffee grounds from her hand. A chill went up her spine as he whispered gravelly in her ear, "Give us a few more months."