Chapter 17

The following day, Remington paced his office, checking his watch every few minutes. He stopped to peer out the window and studied the cars stopping in front of the office building. He moved to his office door and sauntered nervously into the lobby. "Ms. Foxe, has Fred called by any chance?"

"Not since you asked me ten minutes ago," Bernice replied with a raised eyebrow.

"And Laura? Has she and Mildred returned?" Remington inquired with a glance at Laura's office door.

"Not yet. She should be back any minute. What has your panties in a knot today, anyway?" Bernice dropped her chin into the palm of her hand and waited.

Remington straightened the knot of his tie, tipped his head side to side, and tugged down the sleeves of his dress shirt. "We're expecting Lady Catherine this afternoon and I don't want Laura to be late."

"That's it?" Bernice drummed her fingers against her cheek.

Remington stared at her uncomfortably. "No. She's bringing an unknown individual with her."

"So?" Bernice dropped her hand to cover the other one resting on her desk.

"So?" Remington gasped. "So… so what? It's maddening. We have no idea who this person is or what business they have with us."

Bernice sat straighter and rubbed her fingertip along her lip line. "What if it's pleasure?"

"Excuse me?" Remington edged closer to her desk. "Did you say, pleasure?"

Bernice blinked stonily. "I didn't think I stuttered. Yes, pleasure. What if this mystery person isn't coming here for business?"

Remington steadied himself with one hand against the corner of her desk. "Do you know who Lady Catherine is?"

Bernice rolled her eyes in a grand gesture. "She's your uncle's widow that's helping you with the Foundation. Laura gave me all the deets."

"Then you understand there is no pleasure with Lady Catherine. At least not coming from us." Remington stared at her, appalled.

"I think you misunderstood my meaning." Bernice raised an eyebrow and pointed at him. "Pleasure, as in, not work-related."

Remington dropped his hand to his chest and rose to his full height. "Well then. I suppose this could be for pleasure. A simple visit perhaps… although I'm not sure who she'd be bringing with her that is so important she couldn't have told us."

"You'll find out soon enough." Bernice flashed a smile in his direction just before the phone rang. "Remington Steele Investigations. No, I'm sorry, Laura Holt isn't in at the moment. No, Mildred Krebs is out, too. Mr. Steele is here… would you like to speak with him? And who may I say is calling?" Bernice frowned before she covered the mouthpiece on the phone. "It's someone from Upbeat Magazine."

"Upbeat Magazine? Sounds familiar but I can't quite place why." Remington scoured his memory.

"And what is this about?" Bernice demanded. After several long seconds, she guffawed loudly. "You've got the wrong guy for that one. He is so far off the market, you can't even peek in his windows. But I'll pass on the message." She dropped the phone onto the receiver and lowered her hands. "You've been nominated again for one of LA's Five Most Eligible Bachelors."

Remington couldn't stop the smirk on his face from appearing. "My, my, my. I thought they rid themselves of that silliness after the murders. But I guess it's nice to still be on their list, even if they haven't done their homework. Anyone who has seen Laura and I out and about recently would know the true story." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Laura and Mildred stepping out of the elevator. "Speaking of my lovely wife, here she comes now."

"Hey, Chief. Sorry we're late. We had to make a pit stop… or two," Mildred apologized as she entered.

"I can't help that now. And, from what I read, it's only going to get worse, Mildred," Laura stated. She rubbed her belly with one hand and studied Remington. "What's with the look?"

"Upbeat Magazine called. They think he's still on the market," Bernice explained.

Remington, still smiling, crossed the room and brushed a kiss against Laura's temple. "But Ms. Foxe put them straight as only she can. It's flattering, even if it's not necessary any longer. How was the meeting with the McKenzies? Did everything go smoothly?"

"Well, Mildred was able to update them on where their uncle has been the last few years. She gave them his recent contact information, so it's up to them now." Laura scanned the room and asked, "Lady Catherine hasn't arrived yet?"

"Not yet. He's been pacing like a caged animal," Bernice stated. "And why is it, you only get my name right when you want to?" She narrowed her eyes at Remington.

Remington puckered his lips playfully. "It's all part of our relationship dynamic. And if you notice, when it's important, I always get your name right."

Bernice drummed her perfectly manicured nails on the desk as she nodded. "Uh-huh. So the next time you ask me for tea?"

"Ms. Wolfe makes a wonderful cup of tea. Brews it perfectly," Remington teased.

"And the report you need typed up?" Bernice leaned closer to him.

"Ms. Foxe is the best typist in the city." Remington winked.

Bernice shook her head and peered at Laura. "I don't get him. But he's all yours."

Laura smiled at her long-time friend. "And I'll take him any day over some of the slugs that used to come around." Remington's mouth dropped open. "What I mean is, you're on a different level than the guys that used to... I don't know… Hit on me. Pretend I was nothing more than a secretary. Assume that just because I'm a woman, I couldn't hold a coherent thought in my head, nevermind run a business."

Remington twisted his mouth to the side as he contemplated the comparisons. Mildred quickly rushed forward and said, "I'd stop now, honey. I think you made your point about three insults back."

"Insults? I didn't insult anyone?" Laura replied, shocked.

"And he's not Remington Steele," Bernice deadpanned as she pointed at him.

"Precisely my point!" Remington lifted a hand dramatically. "Why is Remington Steele… the true Remington Steele… being compared to the eclectic, unworthy men who used to try to lure Mrs. Steele to their beds, only to find out… well before that, I might add… she is much more than she seems?"

"I think I'm confused," Laura admitted. "You really are Remington Steele. You have a birth certificate and passport to prove it."

Remington chuckled, swiped a hand across his mouth, and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Laura's head. "Some days you really surprise me, Laura."

Mildred laughed loudly. "I think there's a name for that now… Pregnancy brain. Scrambles your thoughts until nothing comes out clearly."

Laura narrowed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "I guess you could say I've been distracted a little lately."

"Distracted isn't the word, honey. More like… frazzled with a touch of ditz thrown in," Mildred interjected. She stopped when she noticed one sculpted eyebrow lift in slow motion. "But you're still Mrs. Steele… the best in the business…" She trailed off and glanced at Remington. "Help me out, Boss?"

Remington puckered his lips playfully. "No, Mildred, I think you're doing quite well, all on your own."

Mildred released a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to say you're a ditz, Mrs. Steele. I just meant that–"

Laura reached out and patted Mildred's arm. "I think I understand what you mean, Mildred. I'm just thankful our caseload is pretty light still. And, I'll admit I have confused a few details here and there with one security contract or another, but I still don't see the comparison between the men who tried to date me with–"

"Lady Catherine's here," Remington exclaimed loudly, interrupting Laura. "Who is that?" he questioned as he watched Fred push a frail, older woman in a wheelchair out of the elevator.

"That must be your mystery guest, Mr. Steele," Laura concluded.