Show: The Guardian
Title: Family: chapter 2
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
*~*~*~*~*~*
Fallin and Associates (the next day - 7:20 p.m.)
Nicholas hadn't even realized how late it was until Amanda knocked on his door: "Hey Nick, I'm heading out. Do you want to join me for dinner?" she asked hopefully.
Nick glanced up at the beautiful redheaded associate at his door, an expectant expression on her face. On any other day he wouldn't have minded, but he wanted to get these reports finished; besides, he was waiting for Amelia to call back. "Sorry kid. I've got other plans."
Amanda frowned. "Oh. I'm sorry," she finally said, fighting hard to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she continued, reluctantly closing the door behind her.
Another half-hour passed until Nick was finally finished and, glancing at the clock he realized that Amelia still hadn't called him. He filed away the documents and collected his coat, wondering if Amelia had somehow forgotten about dinner when the telephone rang.
Annette had already left for the night, so Nick answered quickly. "Nicholas Fallin."
"Nick," Amelia's husky voice washed over his senses.
"Amelia. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."
Amelia chuckled over the phone. "I'm sorry, Nick, my appointment ran longer than expected," she explained.
"Is everything alright?" Nick asked, concerned.
"No, no everything's fine. I swear, you're such a worrywart sometimes, Nick," she teased.
Nick laughed, allowing her to lighten the mood. "Are we still on for tonight? I can meet you wherever."
"Yes, of course. I am a bit tired though. How about you just come over here?"
"Here where?" asked Nick.
"I'm staying at The King. We can order room service and catch up. I'm not up for a crowded restaurant tonight."
"Sure," Nick agreed, glancing at his watch. "I'll be there in half and hour, is that alright?"
"That's great. I'll see you then."
Nick hung up, grabbed his coat and briefcase and headed out his office. As he passed his father's office, he realized the light was still on. He paused, and before he could lose his nerve, pushed open the door.
Burton, hunched over some briefs, looked up at the intrusion. He seemed surprised to see Nick standing there. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.
"I'm having dinner with Amelia tonight," he announced.
Burton frowned, curious as to where this was leading.
"To discuss her divorce."
Burton's eyes widened. "What?"
"She came here to ask me to handle her divorce."
Burton sat back in shock. "Divorce? Why?"
"Freddie's being Freddie - he's having an affair."
"That little bastard!" exclaimed Burton, throwing down his pen.
"She asked me not to tell you," Nick paused at the flicker of hurt that fluttered across his father's face, "but you're gonna find out anyway. Just don't tell Freddie that she's onto him, ok?"
Burton nodded, settling down again. Nick turned to leave but his father stopped him. "Well. I'm glad to see that she's finally come to her senses."
Nick barely cracked a smile. "Aren't we all?"
Half an hour later, Nick pulled his sleek silver BMW up to The King. Handing the keys to the valet, he strode into the lobby, and up to the front desk. The woman behind the desk gave him an appreciative glance before asking, "May I help you, sir?"
"Yes, Nicholas Fallin here to see Amelia Sachs-Fallin."
"One moment please." The clerk put a call to Amelia's room where she gained permission to send Nick up. "Yes sir, Penthouse floor, room 2," she directed.
"Thank you," Nick replied with a smile.
On the ride up, Nicholas realized that this would be the first time in the seventeen years he had known Amelia that he would be having dinner alone with her. The first time he'd met her, he had been a gangly adolescent and she'd been a twenty-five year old bombshell completely and utterly in love with his asshole cousin Freddie. He couldn't understand what the hell she saw in him but, then again, Freddie had always had a way with the ladies. Amelia had been the ultimate catch: smart, beautiful, rich by her own right. Freddie had been unbelievably lucky but now, in true Freddie fashion, he'd decided to trade her in for someone younger and more 'beautiful'.
As the elevator doors slid open, Nick scoffed. No one was as beautiful as Amelia. Certainly not some cosmetically enhanced bottle-blonde.
Nick knocked at the door, and few moments later, it swung open to reveal a robe-clad Amelia.
"Nick, come on in," she invited, opening the door wider for him to pass through.
"Thanks," he replied, setting his coat on the rack and taking his briefcase with him into the room.
"I was just about to change when I got the call that you were downstairs," she explained, moving past him, leaning on her cane. "Make yourself at home, I'll only be a moment."
Amelia hobbled into her bedroom just off the living room. "Fix yourself a drink, Nick. We can order room service when I'm done."
"Thanks," he replied, moving to the wet bar in the corner. "You want anything?" he called.
Amelia, who had just dropped her robe, stuck her head around the corner. "Gin and tonic, please."
While Nick busied himself with the drinks in the other room, Amelia searched for something to wear. She was confused. She definitely liked the new Nicholas Fallin. yet she didn't. She was a little attracted to him, she'd admit - after all, what red-blooded female wouldn't be? But she shouldn't be feeling this for a man ten years her junior, a man she'd known since he was fifteen, her husband's *cousin*! Her soon-to-be-ex-husband, that is.
"Are you alright in there?" Nick called after more than five minutes had passed. "Your drink's turning to water and ice out here."
Amelia blushed, realizing she'd just practically zoned out. "I'm coming." Hurriedly, she pulled on her underwear, a pair of old paint splattered jeans and dragged an oversized Columbia sweatshirt over her head. She dragged a brush through her thick wavy chestnut hair, scowling at her reflection in the mirror, before snatching up her cane and hobbling back into the living room.
She accepted her drink with a smile of gratitude and sat down on the lounge, picking up the room service menu as she took an appreciative sip of her drink.
Nick sat in a chair opposite her, watching her over the rim of his glass as she perused the extensive room service menu. Her oversized sweatshirt and jeans were a far cry from the tailored suits or blazers that she usual wore. With her long wavy chestnut hair loose around her beautiful face, she looked more like a college student than a professor with a PhD.
Amelia glanced up and caught him looking at her. Her breath caught in throat as she recognized the smoky look in Nick's intense blue eyes. He looked away before asking, "See anything interesting?"
She cleared her throat before speaking, "The clams were really good the last time I was here. I think I'll have that again. What about you?" she asked, sliding the menu across the table between them.
Nick shrugged. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he obligingly picked up the menu, perusing it absentmindedly. "I think I'll just have a steak and potato."
"Ok," Amelia replied, picking up the vintage phone beside the lounge. "Wine?"
Nick shook his head.
"Dessert?" she asked, knowing full well Nick didn't have that much of a sweet tooth anyway. At his refusal she added, "I'll order some anyway." She dialed the number and ordered the spicy clams, Nick's steak and potato, and lava cake for dessert. "Half an hour," she announced, setting down the phone.
"That's fine," he replied, setting his tumbler down on a coaster.
"Take off your jacket, Nick," she said. "We're not at the office, you know."
Nick grinned. "But you *are* a client," replied, shrugging off his jacket. He loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, exposing smooth golden forearms.
"Ah, so you've truly decided to take me on as a client?"
Nick frowned. "I said I would, didn't I?"
Amelia smiled gratefully. "Yes, you did," she replied softly. "Thank you."
"You've said that before."
"And I'll keep saying it until you understand how much I truly appreciate you handling this."
"Ok, ok!" Nick said holding up his hands in peace. "I get it."
"Good," she replied with a smile, taking another sip of her drink.
"Do you want to get started now, or after dinner?" he asked, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a notepad.
Amelia's smile faded. "I guess now's as good a time as any," she replied, setting her drink down. "It shouldn't be too difficult. We had a pre-nup."
"Do you have a copy of it here?" he asked, jotting that down on the notepad.
"Nope. It's back in Manhattan. Nothing too complicated - on divorce I get a lump sum of five million, and $7500 a month in alimony."
"Any property?" he continued, scribbling furiously.
"I want the townhouse," she announced emphatically.
"That's all?" he asked, pausing to look at her in surprise. "Don't you want Blue House?" he asked, referring to the beloved beach house in Cape Cod.
Amelia looked away. "No," she replied shaking her head, " too many memories." Her voice cracked.
Nick set down the notepad. "We don't have to do this now, Amelia," he advised gently.
"Yes we do, Nick. I'm leaving for New York day after tomorrow. I want you to get started on the papers as soon as possible."
"Fine," he relented, taking back up the notepad. "Are you sure you don't want Blue House?" he asked.
She nodded. He put it down as a request anyway. "Any other property?"
"There's the house in Connecticut, and an apartment in LA. He can have those."
Nick continued writing. "Special knick-knacks; other valuables?"
Amelia shook her head. "Everything I want is in the townhouse: paintings, crystal, cutlery. Freddie can have whatever else he wants."
"Cars?"
Amelia smirked. "I can't drive anymore, Nick. Why would I need a car? The Mercedes and Lexus at the townhouse, he can have. The Jeep at the beach house, too. I only want the limo."
Nick nodded, and scribbled the requests. "Pets? What ever happened to Rascal?" he asked, referring to Amelia's Golden Retriever.
"He died last year," she admitted sadly. "Snake bite at the Cod - we had to put him down."
Nick frowned. "I'm sorry Amelia, I know how much he meant to you."
Amelia shrugged. "He had a full life. He would have missed Freddie too much if he were here, though. I somehow don't think Madeline is much of a dog person," she said cheekily, making light of the situation in typical Amelia fashion.
Nick meant to say something else when a knock sounded at the door. "Room service!"
"I'll get it," Nick offered, as Amelia made to get up. He opened the door, stepping aside as the bellboy wheeled the cart in.
"Right here," Amelia said, indicating the spot next to her by the table. The boy did as he was told, and turned to Nick expectantly, who fished out a five-dollar bill to tip the boy.
"Thank you, sir. Have a nice night," he wished, as he saw his way out, closing the door behind him.
"Hmmm, God, that smells heavenly," he heard Amelia say from behind him, and he turned to see her leaning to smell the delicious scents of spicy clams and fettuccine wafting from her plate. Suddenly, Nick was famished.
They were silent for most of the meal, both intent on their own meals and satisfying their empty stomach. When Nick couldn't eat anymore, he pushed away his empty plate and took another sip of his second Scotch, as Amelia picked up her dessert fork and dug into a huge slice of chocolate lava cake with relish.
Nick grinned. "Where do you put it all?" he asked Amelia.
"What?"
"All that food. You eat like a horse and you're thin as a rake."
Amelia stuck her tongue at him. "Great genes."
**I'll say** he thought, though he was more concerned about a pair of tight paint-splattered blue jeans more so than biological genes. Jeans that clung to her like a second skin, lovingly cupping her rear like a -
"Nick?" Amelia called for the second time.
Nick started. "Huh?"
"Aren't you going to eat your cake?"
Nick scowled. She knew he wouldn't. "No you go ahead, Professor. It's all yours."
"Why thank you, sir," she replied, pushing away her now empty plate and taking up his.
Nick grinned again, going through his notes as he sipped his scotch.
"So how long do you think this will all take?" she asked, setting Nick's empty plate next to hers.
"Well, I can have the papers drawn up by next week, and send them to you in New York before I send them to Freddie. If he has no objections, it should be finalized in about six months."
"Freddie won't have any objections," she predicted bitterly. "Why does it have to take so damned long though, Nick?"
"The law takes time. It also gives you time for both parties to change their minds."
"I won't be changing my mind. Freddie would probably recommend me for sainthood when he gets the papers."
Nick said nothing and Amelia sighed. "It's not like I've got anything better to do. I've got lots of time on my hands."
"What do you mean? School's back in session in September, Amelia."
"Yes, but not for me, Nick," she admitted.
"What are you talking about?"
"I resigned from my position. My contract was up for renewal at the end of the semester. I simply chose not to renew it."
"But why? Your students mean everything to you."
"Which is exactly why I had to do it, Nick. Some days I can't even find the strength to get out of bed, or to comb my hair. I can't even help myself much less two hundred college students," she said.
He knew giving up the job that had been such an integral part of her life and was so important to her was probably one of the hardest things she must have done. Life just seemed to be delivering slap after slap to her face: first being unable to conceive, then being diagnosed with a degenerative disorder, losing her ability to walk unaided, losing the husband that she'd loved more than life itself, now her job.
"So what do you do with your days, now?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.
"Actually," she said with a bright smile, "I don't have so much free time on my hands as I let on. I volunteer at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital reading to the kids in the pediatric wing. It's much more satisfying to actually be a part of it than just writing a big fat check at the end of the year. It's so much fun, Nick. I am now the best finger painter in New York City!" she announced with an infectious laugh.
Nick couldn't help but smile. It was wonderful to hear her laugh again. She'd had so little to truly laugh at recently. Her beautiful face took on an animated quality as she continued, and Nick couldn't help but be drawn into her little world.
"I started painting again, Nick. Murals. Huge, colourful, graceful murals over at the hospital. It's amazing the free reign they give to a person who donates so much to them. I'm about halfway through my first one in the waiting room. That's why I want to get back to New York so soon."
"That's wonderful."
Amelia smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Nick's heart skipped a beat. "I'm happy, Nick. Or at least I'm gonna be happy when this is all over. I know you probably think I don't have anything to be happy about, but I *do*. For the first time in seventeen years, I get to be *me*. Amelia Sachs: a stuck up lil rich girl from Westchester, who wanted to become a college professor; not Amelia Sachs-Fallin, Freddie Fallin's wife, the chick who teaches over at Columbia, you know?"
Nick did know. He knew how important a quest for individuality was. He'd almost gone to jail on his quest for it. "I'm glad you're happy Amelia," he said huskily.
She smiled again. "What about you, Nick?" she asked softly. "I've been going on and on about my problems when everything hasn't exactly been a cup of tea for you, either."
Nick shook his head. "I'm alright. I'm a Fallin. We're survivors."
"You're human, Nick," she pointed out shrewdly, sitting up to capture his gaze.
Nick looked away then back again. "I'm happy too, Amelia," he admitted quietly after a few minutes of silence. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Truly. It's weird. But this 'punishment' has been the most profound experience in my life."
Amelia sat back on the lounge, letting his soft husky voice flow over her senses as she listened to him talk.
"For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something that's worthwhile; something that matters. It's made a man out of me, Amelia. It's hard to put into words," he paused, "but it's changed the person I was, the person I would have grown to be." He looked at her, his eyes an intense blue.
The air crackled between them. Amelia nodded slowly. Nick *had* changed. And that was a little scary.
Nick looked away first, and glanced down at his watch: 10:25. "It's getting late, Amelia. I'm due in court tomorrow morning," he said, gathering up his jacket and briefcase.
"Of course," she replied, standing up slowly and following him to the door.
"Thanks for dinner," he told her, as he folded his coat over his arm.
"You can repay the favour tomorrow," she replied with a laugh. "I'll drop by the office tomorrow at 6. I don't want you two Fallins burning the midnight oil on my last day in Pittsburgh."
"Will do, Amelia." Before he could lose his nerve, Nick leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight," he whispered, before turning around and heading toward the elevator.
Amelia shut the door behind her and leaned heavily on it. She lifted a hand to the spot that tingled on her cheek. "Goodnight, Nick," she whispered back.
TBC.
A/N: R&R folks, I would really like to hear from you all.
Title: Family: chapter 2
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
*~*~*~*~*~*
Fallin and Associates (the next day - 7:20 p.m.)
Nicholas hadn't even realized how late it was until Amanda knocked on his door: "Hey Nick, I'm heading out. Do you want to join me for dinner?" she asked hopefully.
Nick glanced up at the beautiful redheaded associate at his door, an expectant expression on her face. On any other day he wouldn't have minded, but he wanted to get these reports finished; besides, he was waiting for Amelia to call back. "Sorry kid. I've got other plans."
Amanda frowned. "Oh. I'm sorry," she finally said, fighting hard to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she continued, reluctantly closing the door behind her.
Another half-hour passed until Nick was finally finished and, glancing at the clock he realized that Amelia still hadn't called him. He filed away the documents and collected his coat, wondering if Amelia had somehow forgotten about dinner when the telephone rang.
Annette had already left for the night, so Nick answered quickly. "Nicholas Fallin."
"Nick," Amelia's husky voice washed over his senses.
"Amelia. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."
Amelia chuckled over the phone. "I'm sorry, Nick, my appointment ran longer than expected," she explained.
"Is everything alright?" Nick asked, concerned.
"No, no everything's fine. I swear, you're such a worrywart sometimes, Nick," she teased.
Nick laughed, allowing her to lighten the mood. "Are we still on for tonight? I can meet you wherever."
"Yes, of course. I am a bit tired though. How about you just come over here?"
"Here where?" asked Nick.
"I'm staying at The King. We can order room service and catch up. I'm not up for a crowded restaurant tonight."
"Sure," Nick agreed, glancing at his watch. "I'll be there in half and hour, is that alright?"
"That's great. I'll see you then."
Nick hung up, grabbed his coat and briefcase and headed out his office. As he passed his father's office, he realized the light was still on. He paused, and before he could lose his nerve, pushed open the door.
Burton, hunched over some briefs, looked up at the intrusion. He seemed surprised to see Nick standing there. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.
"I'm having dinner with Amelia tonight," he announced.
Burton frowned, curious as to where this was leading.
"To discuss her divorce."
Burton's eyes widened. "What?"
"She came here to ask me to handle her divorce."
Burton sat back in shock. "Divorce? Why?"
"Freddie's being Freddie - he's having an affair."
"That little bastard!" exclaimed Burton, throwing down his pen.
"She asked me not to tell you," Nick paused at the flicker of hurt that fluttered across his father's face, "but you're gonna find out anyway. Just don't tell Freddie that she's onto him, ok?"
Burton nodded, settling down again. Nick turned to leave but his father stopped him. "Well. I'm glad to see that she's finally come to her senses."
Nick barely cracked a smile. "Aren't we all?"
Half an hour later, Nick pulled his sleek silver BMW up to The King. Handing the keys to the valet, he strode into the lobby, and up to the front desk. The woman behind the desk gave him an appreciative glance before asking, "May I help you, sir?"
"Yes, Nicholas Fallin here to see Amelia Sachs-Fallin."
"One moment please." The clerk put a call to Amelia's room where she gained permission to send Nick up. "Yes sir, Penthouse floor, room 2," she directed.
"Thank you," Nick replied with a smile.
On the ride up, Nicholas realized that this would be the first time in the seventeen years he had known Amelia that he would be having dinner alone with her. The first time he'd met her, he had been a gangly adolescent and she'd been a twenty-five year old bombshell completely and utterly in love with his asshole cousin Freddie. He couldn't understand what the hell she saw in him but, then again, Freddie had always had a way with the ladies. Amelia had been the ultimate catch: smart, beautiful, rich by her own right. Freddie had been unbelievably lucky but now, in true Freddie fashion, he'd decided to trade her in for someone younger and more 'beautiful'.
As the elevator doors slid open, Nick scoffed. No one was as beautiful as Amelia. Certainly not some cosmetically enhanced bottle-blonde.
Nick knocked at the door, and few moments later, it swung open to reveal a robe-clad Amelia.
"Nick, come on in," she invited, opening the door wider for him to pass through.
"Thanks," he replied, setting his coat on the rack and taking his briefcase with him into the room.
"I was just about to change when I got the call that you were downstairs," she explained, moving past him, leaning on her cane. "Make yourself at home, I'll only be a moment."
Amelia hobbled into her bedroom just off the living room. "Fix yourself a drink, Nick. We can order room service when I'm done."
"Thanks," he replied, moving to the wet bar in the corner. "You want anything?" he called.
Amelia, who had just dropped her robe, stuck her head around the corner. "Gin and tonic, please."
While Nick busied himself with the drinks in the other room, Amelia searched for something to wear. She was confused. She definitely liked the new Nicholas Fallin. yet she didn't. She was a little attracted to him, she'd admit - after all, what red-blooded female wouldn't be? But she shouldn't be feeling this for a man ten years her junior, a man she'd known since he was fifteen, her husband's *cousin*! Her soon-to-be-ex-husband, that is.
"Are you alright in there?" Nick called after more than five minutes had passed. "Your drink's turning to water and ice out here."
Amelia blushed, realizing she'd just practically zoned out. "I'm coming." Hurriedly, she pulled on her underwear, a pair of old paint splattered jeans and dragged an oversized Columbia sweatshirt over her head. She dragged a brush through her thick wavy chestnut hair, scowling at her reflection in the mirror, before snatching up her cane and hobbling back into the living room.
She accepted her drink with a smile of gratitude and sat down on the lounge, picking up the room service menu as she took an appreciative sip of her drink.
Nick sat in a chair opposite her, watching her over the rim of his glass as she perused the extensive room service menu. Her oversized sweatshirt and jeans were a far cry from the tailored suits or blazers that she usual wore. With her long wavy chestnut hair loose around her beautiful face, she looked more like a college student than a professor with a PhD.
Amelia glanced up and caught him looking at her. Her breath caught in throat as she recognized the smoky look in Nick's intense blue eyes. He looked away before asking, "See anything interesting?"
She cleared her throat before speaking, "The clams were really good the last time I was here. I think I'll have that again. What about you?" she asked, sliding the menu across the table between them.
Nick shrugged. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he obligingly picked up the menu, perusing it absentmindedly. "I think I'll just have a steak and potato."
"Ok," Amelia replied, picking up the vintage phone beside the lounge. "Wine?"
Nick shook his head.
"Dessert?" she asked, knowing full well Nick didn't have that much of a sweet tooth anyway. At his refusal she added, "I'll order some anyway." She dialed the number and ordered the spicy clams, Nick's steak and potato, and lava cake for dessert. "Half an hour," she announced, setting down the phone.
"That's fine," he replied, setting his tumbler down on a coaster.
"Take off your jacket, Nick," she said. "We're not at the office, you know."
Nick grinned. "But you *are* a client," replied, shrugging off his jacket. He loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, exposing smooth golden forearms.
"Ah, so you've truly decided to take me on as a client?"
Nick frowned. "I said I would, didn't I?"
Amelia smiled gratefully. "Yes, you did," she replied softly. "Thank you."
"You've said that before."
"And I'll keep saying it until you understand how much I truly appreciate you handling this."
"Ok, ok!" Nick said holding up his hands in peace. "I get it."
"Good," she replied with a smile, taking another sip of her drink.
"Do you want to get started now, or after dinner?" he asked, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a notepad.
Amelia's smile faded. "I guess now's as good a time as any," she replied, setting her drink down. "It shouldn't be too difficult. We had a pre-nup."
"Do you have a copy of it here?" he asked, jotting that down on the notepad.
"Nope. It's back in Manhattan. Nothing too complicated - on divorce I get a lump sum of five million, and $7500 a month in alimony."
"Any property?" he continued, scribbling furiously.
"I want the townhouse," she announced emphatically.
"That's all?" he asked, pausing to look at her in surprise. "Don't you want Blue House?" he asked, referring to the beloved beach house in Cape Cod.
Amelia looked away. "No," she replied shaking her head, " too many memories." Her voice cracked.
Nick set down the notepad. "We don't have to do this now, Amelia," he advised gently.
"Yes we do, Nick. I'm leaving for New York day after tomorrow. I want you to get started on the papers as soon as possible."
"Fine," he relented, taking back up the notepad. "Are you sure you don't want Blue House?" he asked.
She nodded. He put it down as a request anyway. "Any other property?"
"There's the house in Connecticut, and an apartment in LA. He can have those."
Nick continued writing. "Special knick-knacks; other valuables?"
Amelia shook her head. "Everything I want is in the townhouse: paintings, crystal, cutlery. Freddie can have whatever else he wants."
"Cars?"
Amelia smirked. "I can't drive anymore, Nick. Why would I need a car? The Mercedes and Lexus at the townhouse, he can have. The Jeep at the beach house, too. I only want the limo."
Nick nodded, and scribbled the requests. "Pets? What ever happened to Rascal?" he asked, referring to Amelia's Golden Retriever.
"He died last year," she admitted sadly. "Snake bite at the Cod - we had to put him down."
Nick frowned. "I'm sorry Amelia, I know how much he meant to you."
Amelia shrugged. "He had a full life. He would have missed Freddie too much if he were here, though. I somehow don't think Madeline is much of a dog person," she said cheekily, making light of the situation in typical Amelia fashion.
Nick meant to say something else when a knock sounded at the door. "Room service!"
"I'll get it," Nick offered, as Amelia made to get up. He opened the door, stepping aside as the bellboy wheeled the cart in.
"Right here," Amelia said, indicating the spot next to her by the table. The boy did as he was told, and turned to Nick expectantly, who fished out a five-dollar bill to tip the boy.
"Thank you, sir. Have a nice night," he wished, as he saw his way out, closing the door behind him.
"Hmmm, God, that smells heavenly," he heard Amelia say from behind him, and he turned to see her leaning to smell the delicious scents of spicy clams and fettuccine wafting from her plate. Suddenly, Nick was famished.
They were silent for most of the meal, both intent on their own meals and satisfying their empty stomach. When Nick couldn't eat anymore, he pushed away his empty plate and took another sip of his second Scotch, as Amelia picked up her dessert fork and dug into a huge slice of chocolate lava cake with relish.
Nick grinned. "Where do you put it all?" he asked Amelia.
"What?"
"All that food. You eat like a horse and you're thin as a rake."
Amelia stuck her tongue at him. "Great genes."
**I'll say** he thought, though he was more concerned about a pair of tight paint-splattered blue jeans more so than biological genes. Jeans that clung to her like a second skin, lovingly cupping her rear like a -
"Nick?" Amelia called for the second time.
Nick started. "Huh?"
"Aren't you going to eat your cake?"
Nick scowled. She knew he wouldn't. "No you go ahead, Professor. It's all yours."
"Why thank you, sir," she replied, pushing away her now empty plate and taking up his.
Nick grinned again, going through his notes as he sipped his scotch.
"So how long do you think this will all take?" she asked, setting Nick's empty plate next to hers.
"Well, I can have the papers drawn up by next week, and send them to you in New York before I send them to Freddie. If he has no objections, it should be finalized in about six months."
"Freddie won't have any objections," she predicted bitterly. "Why does it have to take so damned long though, Nick?"
"The law takes time. It also gives you time for both parties to change their minds."
"I won't be changing my mind. Freddie would probably recommend me for sainthood when he gets the papers."
Nick said nothing and Amelia sighed. "It's not like I've got anything better to do. I've got lots of time on my hands."
"What do you mean? School's back in session in September, Amelia."
"Yes, but not for me, Nick," she admitted.
"What are you talking about?"
"I resigned from my position. My contract was up for renewal at the end of the semester. I simply chose not to renew it."
"But why? Your students mean everything to you."
"Which is exactly why I had to do it, Nick. Some days I can't even find the strength to get out of bed, or to comb my hair. I can't even help myself much less two hundred college students," she said.
He knew giving up the job that had been such an integral part of her life and was so important to her was probably one of the hardest things she must have done. Life just seemed to be delivering slap after slap to her face: first being unable to conceive, then being diagnosed with a degenerative disorder, losing her ability to walk unaided, losing the husband that she'd loved more than life itself, now her job.
"So what do you do with your days, now?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.
"Actually," she said with a bright smile, "I don't have so much free time on my hands as I let on. I volunteer at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital reading to the kids in the pediatric wing. It's much more satisfying to actually be a part of it than just writing a big fat check at the end of the year. It's so much fun, Nick. I am now the best finger painter in New York City!" she announced with an infectious laugh.
Nick couldn't help but smile. It was wonderful to hear her laugh again. She'd had so little to truly laugh at recently. Her beautiful face took on an animated quality as she continued, and Nick couldn't help but be drawn into her little world.
"I started painting again, Nick. Murals. Huge, colourful, graceful murals over at the hospital. It's amazing the free reign they give to a person who donates so much to them. I'm about halfway through my first one in the waiting room. That's why I want to get back to New York so soon."
"That's wonderful."
Amelia smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Nick's heart skipped a beat. "I'm happy, Nick. Or at least I'm gonna be happy when this is all over. I know you probably think I don't have anything to be happy about, but I *do*. For the first time in seventeen years, I get to be *me*. Amelia Sachs: a stuck up lil rich girl from Westchester, who wanted to become a college professor; not Amelia Sachs-Fallin, Freddie Fallin's wife, the chick who teaches over at Columbia, you know?"
Nick did know. He knew how important a quest for individuality was. He'd almost gone to jail on his quest for it. "I'm glad you're happy Amelia," he said huskily.
She smiled again. "What about you, Nick?" she asked softly. "I've been going on and on about my problems when everything hasn't exactly been a cup of tea for you, either."
Nick shook his head. "I'm alright. I'm a Fallin. We're survivors."
"You're human, Nick," she pointed out shrewdly, sitting up to capture his gaze.
Nick looked away then back again. "I'm happy too, Amelia," he admitted quietly after a few minutes of silence. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Truly. It's weird. But this 'punishment' has been the most profound experience in my life."
Amelia sat back on the lounge, letting his soft husky voice flow over her senses as she listened to him talk.
"For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something that's worthwhile; something that matters. It's made a man out of me, Amelia. It's hard to put into words," he paused, "but it's changed the person I was, the person I would have grown to be." He looked at her, his eyes an intense blue.
The air crackled between them. Amelia nodded slowly. Nick *had* changed. And that was a little scary.
Nick looked away first, and glanced down at his watch: 10:25. "It's getting late, Amelia. I'm due in court tomorrow morning," he said, gathering up his jacket and briefcase.
"Of course," she replied, standing up slowly and following him to the door.
"Thanks for dinner," he told her, as he folded his coat over his arm.
"You can repay the favour tomorrow," she replied with a laugh. "I'll drop by the office tomorrow at 6. I don't want you two Fallins burning the midnight oil on my last day in Pittsburgh."
"Will do, Amelia." Before he could lose his nerve, Nick leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight," he whispered, before turning around and heading toward the elevator.
Amelia shut the door behind her and leaned heavily on it. She lifted a hand to the spot that tingled on her cheek. "Goodnight, Nick," she whispered back.
TBC.
A/N: R&R folks, I would really like to hear from you all.