A/N (Jo): This story is still so much fun to write. We are having a blast.

Big thanks to Stef for being the best sounding board / ideas consultant / beta extraordinaire.

Thanks to my writing partner in crime, Aimee. It really is a true collaboration and all the better for it.

Finally, huge thanks to all those that have left reviews so far. Please continue to do so. We love to hear your thoughts. Xx

You've Got Mail

Chapter 3

~oOo~

I am not one that relishes in causing discomfort, and I sense this self-imposed restraint of yours has done precisely that. Therefore, I will endeavor to avoid any further double entendre. No more talk of pussies.

Do I ever question what I am doing with my life? Not until recently, no. You're correct in your assumption that I knew exactly what I wanted to be, and I've been fortunate to follow the path I set out for myself. However, lately, I find that I'm fearful of what the future holds. I sense change is coming, and while this shouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, in this instance it is not welcome.

You may not be living the life you first imagined for yourself, but I wager that you are a man that is no stranger to success. Childhood dreams shouldn't dictate the rest of your life and not fulfilling them means you are open to all sorts of other possibilities instead. No regrets. That's what we should aspire to. There is a quote by the Italian film director, Federico Fellini that comes to mind. "Regrets are a waste of time. They're the past crippling you in the present."

I am saddened that your day deteriorated as spectacularly as mine. However, I couldn't help but smile that my messages turned it around for you. I feel the same. Life is uncertain for me at the moment. Scary. Your emails are the tonic that I need, and I am very grateful for them.

I do have to take umbrage on one point though. You shouldn't dismiss slippers so viciously. They are a podiatric gift from heaven.

On a cold winter night, and after a brutal long day spent on tired feet, there is nothing quite so delicious as slipping into something so soft and warm.

Shoot!... I just epically failed on my 'no more double entendre' promise. ;-)

~ Theatergirl

~oOo~

You know, I've been told many times that I need to work on the way I communicate. Especially with women. But if what you took away from my comment was that I don't want any more pussy talk, the problem is worse than I thought. Thank God, your self-restraint isn't any better than mine.

I can definitely embrace the 'no regrets' mantra. Going with my gut is pretty much my thing and no one ever accuses me of lacking confidence. Lately, I just seem to be pondering what it is I really want.

I'm sorry to hear you may be facing an unwelcome change. But I must say, from my experience, sometimes the change we resist the most is the exact kind we need.

Sliding into a soft, warm place, on a cold winter night? Sign me up. But I can guarantee it won't be my feet basking in that pleasure.

~ NYC_901

~oOo~

Your double entendre game is strong. I don't fancy my chances much if we were to go at it. I think I'll quit while I'm ahead, and concede the win already for our next intercourse. I don't think I've got it in me! ;-)

With that, I'll swiftly change the subject. How's Rembrandt? Are you drowning in slobber? Have you lost the feeling in your legs from him spending every moment he can, curled up on your feet? Oh, I do hope so.

You might think me cruel, but the opposite is true. I think your mother was a genius. I believe the love and devotion from a four-legged friend is one of life's blessings. And before you rebuke, I'll remind you that you have already admitted that despite your frustrations and annoyance at his presence, he provides a clearly much-treasured connection with her.

If you're still not convinced, just be grateful you didn't suffer my fate. I too was bequeathed a much-loved possession. There was also an expectation, albeit unspoken, that I take the utmost care of it.

Agatha, however, is no Rembrandt.

She doesn't greet me with joy. She doesn't shower me with affection. It's true, she doesn't chew my furniture or pee in my incredibly comfy slippers either, but every day she just glares at me with disappointment and disapproval.

Thankfully, Agatha is a life-size cardboard cutout (weird, I know) so pretty low maintenance. But I'd swap her for Rembrandt in a heartbeat. If I could.

~ Theatergirl

~oOo~

Your Agatha sounds a lot like my boss. Only she's very, very real. I hope she never gets the idea of making a cardboard cutout. I'd probably find them popping up all over the place, watching me, scolding me with those intense eyes. The image makes me quiver.

I'd like to meet Agatha someday. I bet she'd love me.

Remy is happy as a clam. Poor pup doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. But what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in…

Yeah. He's good.

My mom was no dummy. She knew exactly what she was doing when she volun-told me to take him in. And although he's a complete pain in my ass, a small part of me is grateful. It's been six months since she passed and it doesn't seem to be getting any easier.

You and your mom close?

~ NYC_901

~oOo~

"Well, that went well!" Rachel says with a grin, as she closes the doors to the theater. She lifts her wrist and eyes her watch. "We've got about thirty minutes before they start arriving for this afternoon's session. Shall I go grab us a sandwich?"

"I thought Louis was providing lunch today," Donna replies with a frown, as she resets the tables and chairs on the stage.

They'd just waved goodbye to the last departing family from this morning's session of the children's acting workshop. It's something she started up not long after taking over the running of the theater. Normally held every few months in between productions, it's a popular event that is always well attended. She doesn't charge for the workshops which both Louis and Rachel berate her for, and maybe they're right. God knows, they could use the money. However, making money was never what these particular events were about. The idea was to introduce kids to the joy of theater, acting, improvisation, and just letting go and having fun. Donna has stood firm by this principle and her argument to her friends is that the workshop pays dividends without them charging a fee. It advertises the theater better than any poster or flyer could do and potentially inspires future talent.

"You might be brave enough for one of Louis's god-awful prunies, but I'll pass, thank you!" Rachel scrunches her nose up in disgust.

"Again?" Donna groans. "I thought he promised to bring something different this time."

"Oh, he did. He's accompanied them with gefilte fish and his mother's recipe for stuffed miltz!" Rachel closes her eyes and gives a little shudder.

"Dear Lord, no. Please… go... find us something edible. Although, just some soup will do. I don't think I could stomach anything heavy."

Rachel pauses as she swings her purse over her shoulder. "Why? Are you not feeling well?" she asks with concern.

Donna waves her hand. "I'm fine."

Her friend lifts a skeptical eyebrow and Donna sighs.

"I'm just… I've felt uneasy all morning. The kids had a great time, yes, and I had some fantastic and enthusiastic feedback from their parents, but I just couldn't help feeling anxious."

"Anxious?" Rachel slips her purse back off her shoulder and takes the seat nearest to Donna. "Is this about the development?"

Donna nods. "They were all signing up for the next workshop before Christmas. Many of them asked about their kids auditioning for parts in upcoming plays and some even offered to make a donation."

"That's good though isn't it? It's important we tell them about the fight we have on our hands. We need as much support as we can get."

"I know, but what if it isn't enough, Rach?" Her eyes begin to fill with tears. "I can't bear to think about losing this theater."

"Hey!" Rachel stands and pulls Donna in for a hug. "That's defeatist talk and not something I expect to hear come out of Donna Paulsen's mouth. You're talking like this development is a done deal and it's not!"

She pulls away but holds on to her friend, her hands gently squeezing Donna's arms. "You've had one letter offering to buy you out, and you replied the same night telling them in no uncertain terms that you will never sell. I saw that email, Donna. You couldn't have made it any clearer where you stand. Will they apply more pressure on you? You bet they will, we know how Tony Gia-scummy-louse and his slimy blood sucking lawyers at Pearson Specter operate. But you own this building and that puts you in a strong position. So, this afternoon, just like this morning, the kids will come and have the best fun ever and at the same time we are going to sell the shit out of what we do to their parents and expose those corporate cockroaches for the parasites they are."

Donna's mouth twitches at Rachel's words. "Okay… but you know that cockroaches aren't actually parasites."

Rachel rolls her eyes but picks up her purse again. "One more word from you, Miss Paulsen, and I'll make you eat Louis's mother's stuffed miltz!"

Donna looks horrified. "Christ, that sounds even worse than it really is."

They both grin at each other before Donna gives her friend a little nod in thanks for the pep talk.

Twenty-five minutes later, and feeling better from both the delicious chicken-noodle soup Rachel provided as well as her rousing speech, Donna gives the nod for the doors to be opened. With any luck, there will be just as many eager youngsters for the afternoon drama workshop as they'd had this morning.

Sure enough, a line has formed outside and within seconds the theater echoes with the sounds of squeals, laughter, and excited chatter from the children, and low murmurs and pleasant ramblings from the adults.

Refreshments have been laid out on a long trestle table just below the stage. Juice and an assortment of potato chips for the kids. Coffee, hot spiced cider, and pastries for the grownups. Next to the food and beverages, Rachel has set up a stand displaying details of the Christmas workshop, and also information on the new acting classes they are going to start trialing in November.

Most importantly, she has reams of pamphlets that tell the story of the theater. They include photos of productions past and present alongside a brief written history of its origins, the theater's vital role in the community and crucially, the threat it's now under. The plan is to get the word out and rally support.

Everyone mingles for the first ten minutes, the atmosphere friendly and warm and filled with anticipation. Most of the troupe are here to lend a helping hand, but it's Donna who takes the lead and gets the kids warmed up and started. This is her baby. Her event that she takes great pride in.

She makes her way to the center of the stage and claps her hands, before throwing them out wide with a big smile. A gradual hush descends as all eyes turn to her.

"Welcome to The Bobby Byrne Theater Company. It's wonderful to see so many new and excited faces as well as some familiar ones too." She gives a little wink and several of the children hoot and holler with glee before being quickly shushed by their parents.

"This afternoon, we'll be introducing you to the amazing world of performing arts. You'll have the opportunity to try some acting, singing, and dancing. We'll have you taking part in improvisations, role-plays, and lots of fun exercises that will get you using your imagination. We only have two rules. Be respectful and kind to each other, and have lots of fun."

Donna wastes no time gathering all the children, distributing name tags, and getting them started with warm up exercises. This mainly consists of them playing a kind of musical chairs while pretending to be different animals. There's lots of laughter and giggles both from the children and the adults watching.

After completing three more exercises, she takes a break, handing over to Louis, who despite his usual despotic ways, endears himself to the kids instantly. He plays the role of a big bad wolf from whom each child has to extract a candy, only they have to do it in the guise of a chosen Disney character. Much squealing ensues and Donna is grinning from ear to ear as she leaves the stage. She's relieved to see several of the parents browsing through the theater information on display.

Rachel smiles as Donna approaches. "Louis complains constantly about this workshop, but look at him up there, he's in his element," she murmurs.

Donna chuckles. "Louis is always in his element when he's up on stage."

"True."

"How's it going?" Donna nods towards the stand. "Had many people take a pamphlet or ask about the theater?"

"Plenty. Although it's mainly the women and I have a sneaking suspicion they've been lingering here for reasons other than wanting to learn about what we do and what we have to offer."

Donna looks puzzled. "Oh?"

Rachel dips her head and drops her voice. "I think they're more interested in checking out Mr. Hottie sitting behind me."

Donna's gaze furtively slides over Rachel's shoulder and falls upon a man sitting casually in the front row of the theater.

Her pulse quickens. She's not surprised he's been attracting female attention, the man is not only incredibly attractive but he has a presence about him that commands attention. He exudes confidence and charisma.

He's dressed in a navy blue button-down, collar open, jacket lying over his lap, dark and definitely expensive jeans, 'Spoke' by the looks of it. Although he is seated, she can tell he is tall and he has the perfect build to match, wide shoulders and a broad chest with an athletic but not overly muscly frame. He's clean-shaven, with a strong jaw, slightly upturned mouth, and as her gaze trails up to his eyes, she instantly blushes when she realizes he's staring right back at her.

Busted.

She doesn't look away though. Something about those warm chocolate eyes keeps her entranced. She'd be intimidated by his intense stare, but he's practically buried under a mountain of balloons, stuffed toys, and other children's paraphernalia that acts as a complete contrast to his persona and kind of softens him at the edges.

She only breaks their deadlock gaze when Rachel unsubtly clears her throat. Donna's eyes flash to her friend, who's looking at her with one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip.

Busted again.

"What?" Donna asks innocently.

"Looks like they're not the only ones checking him out." Rachel smirks.

"Don't be ridiculous. You pointed him out to me, of course, I'm going to look."

"Look, yes. Eye fuck… no!"

"Rachel!" Donna whisper-shouts, her eyes darting around to check no one heard.

"Don't 'Rachel' me. That look you shared was practically pornographic."

Donna scowls but decides not to bite. "Who is he anyway? Who does he belong to? Please tell me he did arrive with some children."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Of course, he did. I don't have Mr. Hottie's name, but..." she points at the stage, "he came with the boy over there standing on one leg pretending to be Captain Hook. Lucas, I think it is, and also the girl currently clinging to Louis's back. Don't know her name… but what is she doing?" she asks with a giggle.

The girl in question has swung around Louis's neck and slipped down his side, one leg in the air and the other wrapped around his middle. She's miming cracking a whip and yee-hawing.

"I think that's Holly, or maybe Hannah? And as to what she's doing," Donna tips her head to one side and squints, "I have no idea!"

"Her name's Hayley," comes a deep velvety voice from behind them.

Both women turn on their heels wide-eyed. Mr. Hottie casually stands there with a mildly amused expression, hands in his pockets. "And she's clearly 'Jessie' from Toy Story," he adds.

They both gape at him. He was gorgeous before he opened his mouth, but if the flash of heat Donna feels is any indication, Mr. Hottie has now been upgraded to Mr. Pantie-incinerator. It takes her a few seconds to gather her wits.

And close her mouth.

"Jessie! Of course," Rachel says with a lot of gusto, coming to her rescue. "Hayley is nailing it, too. Although I think she might be cutting off Louis's air supply."

They all switch their gaze back to the stage and sure enough, Louis is turning a slight shade of purple. Hayley thankfully releases her hold, hops away, jumps up and down on the spot with a few more "yee ha's" as Louis collapses to his knees, gasping.

Donna is about to rush up to the stage to check he's okay when with a dramatic flourish, he thrusts an arm out in Hayley's direction, a wrapped jolly rancher proffered from his fingertips.

"I am vanquished!" he cries. "Take your prize, yodeling cowgirl, and be gone with you!"

Hayley looks delighted as a round of applause from all the other kids and the watching adults accompanies her candy treat.

Louis springs to his feet, gives a little bow, too, because he really can't help hamming the moment up, and then promptly calls time, suggesting they all take a refreshment break.

"She's very talented. Lucas too." Donna finally finds her voice.

Panty-incinerating man chuckles. The sound is rich and melodic. "They certainly have a flair for the dramatics and are really good at getting what they want."

"Oh, really?"

He chucks his thumb over his shoulder. "Despite appearances, I don't normally walk around with life-size teddy bears, giant novelty sunglasses, balloons, and enough chocolate to keep Hershey's going for a year. That's all booty they've acquired via manipulation."

"I see. And did they manipulate you into bringing them here this afternoon, too?" Donna asks with a wry smile. He may be dressed casually, and deliciously, but her gut tells her that her little theater is not the kind of place he would normally visit.

"Actually, my secretary thought it might be a great place to bring the kids this afternoon. Turns out she was right."

"Oh?" Donna's eyes alight. "Is she a regular visitor to our theater?"

He scratches his eyebrow and gives a half-smile. "Not exactly. She saw an advertisement for the workshop on one of your posters, I believe."

Before Donna has a chance to respond, the two children in question come barreling over, full of excitement and their mouths crammed with potato chips.

"Did you see us? Did you see us?" Lucas asks.

"I did, buddy. You were both great." He ruffles the boy's hair, and then gently pinches Hayley's cheek. Donna notes with interest the absence of a wedding ring, or suntan line from a recently removed one.

"I was just telling your Dad how talented you both are," she remarks with a big smile.

Hayley giggles and Lucas snorts. "He's not our Dad!"

Donna frowns. "He's not?"

"He's our Uncle!" Hayley helpfully clarifies.

"Oh, I see. And does your Uncle have a name?" Donna asks as she turns back toward the man himself.

"Harvey," he says with a warm smile. "And you are?"

"Donna Paulsen."

An indescribable look seems to flash across Harvey's face. He looks surprised. But it's only fleeting as he soon breaks out another charming smile. "Pleased to meet you. You own this theater?"

"I do, yes. How did you guess?"

He retrieves one of her pamphlets from his back pocket and gives it a little wave. "I was reading the history about this place."

Donna blushes with pride and returns his smile. "Bobbie Byrne was my Grandma and she was the most incredible lady. She lived and breathed this theater and brought so much joy, talent, and entertainment to the local community. And I've been fortunate to carry on her legacy. We produce plays, musicals, recitals throughout the year, and we like to get the locals involved in what we do, as much as possible. From sourcing local playwrights and actors to nurturing brand new talent." She winks at both Lucas and Hayley and their eyes light up as they slurp their sodas.

She turns back to Harvey who is staring at her intently. "Sorry, I kind of get carried away when talking about this place," she adds with a little apologetic shrug of her shoulders.

"No, I get it," he says with a smile before quickly looking away to his niece and nephew.

"Can we come back for the Christmas workshop too, Uncle Harvey?" Lucas pipes up.

Harvey opens his mouth to answer but doesn't get a chance as Rachel rejoins the conversation. "Oh yes, you must. We need all the support we can get."

"Oh?" Harvey asks nonchalantly as he takes the empty juice cups and paper plates from Lucas and Hayley.

Donna gives a grave nod. "There's a new real estate development that is looking to buy up all the land around here. Including my theater."

"They won't though," Rachel says assuredly. "We have something here the community actually values and a ton of support to go with it. Actually, we have a petition here, if you don't mind signing it."

Harvey looks at the clipboard Rachel is now holding out and he swallows. "Err… sure." He takes it, and chewing the inside of his cheek, he scribbles on the paper.

"Thank you," Donna says as she takes it from him, noting he'd only signed his first name but left a cell number. "Tony Gianastypants may have more money than Fort Knox but he doesn't have the power of the people behind him. Even his scheming lawyers from Pearson Specter can't compete with that."

"Hey!" Hayley shouts, her face lighting up. "That's our—"

"—cue to sign up for the Christmas workshop!" Harvey interjects. He takes a step over to the stand, grabs the pen out of Donna's hand and signs Lucas and Hayley's names.

"No, Uncle Harvey. She said our—"

"—support was very much needed. And she has it. Now, why don't we go find the restroom before the workshop starts up again."

He places his hands behind their backs and begins to move them along as though he was herding sheep. "It was nice talking to you," he calls over his shoulder.

Donna and Rachel both give a little wave, as they watch him now frog march the children into the toilets.

"Weird!" Rachel whispers.

"Quirky!"

"Hot though!"

"Damn hot!"

They don't speak to Harvey again that afternoon. The session continues and Donna gets involved in the lessons again as they divide the kids into smaller groups. Harvey returns to his seat, where he mainly seems absorbed in his cell phone when he's not watching Lucas and Hayley perform. Donna thinks she occasionally catches him watching her too, though she can't be sure thanks to the lights shining on the stage.

The session comes to a close, Donna thanks everyone for their attendance and gives an impassioned speech about the theater and how much they appreciate everyone's support. She rounds it off with a final plea for signatures to their petition. After raucous applause and more hooting and hollering, they bid farewell and begin packing everything away. In the thrum of everyone leaving, Donna suddenly feels the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She looks up, and see's Harvey. He's by the exit, holding the doors open for Lucas and Hayley, but he's staring right at her. Once again, his stare is intense, like the first time their gazes had locked.

He then breaks into a wide smile, gives a little nod before following his niece and nephew outside.

"Twice in one day," Rachel sighs at her shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Eye fornication."

Donna groans and Rachel laughs as she returns to stacking chairs.

~oOo~

I lost my mother too. Although many years ago now. I won't lie, it was tough and there are still many moments when I think of her, and wish she was still here.

But, I was fortunate that I had my father and my Grandmother and no short supply of love and affection.

Six months is still very recent and raw. The pain never really leaves you, but it will get easier. Especially with Remy by your side. The healing power of a dog should not be underestimated. They are intuitive creatures and the best listeners. They never answer back, for one.

Neither do life-size cardboard cutouts of course, but you're right not to mention the idea of them to your boss. She sounds quite formidable, and while there's a time and a place for being scolded by a domineering woman, the office isn't it.

I also agree that Agatha would love you. You'd charm your way into her good books in record time. No disapproving stares for you. She reserves those just for me!

~ Theatergirl