Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT

"Birthday Boys – Part 4"

August 17, 2005 (Day 117)
Salon Simone
9:46 a.m.

Upon spotting an upscale salon a few blocks from Dr. Myers's office, Bev parked her son's car in a space directly in front of the shop's window and instructed Tawny to wait for her while she checked appointment availability.

Much to Bev's delight she was informed it was a slow summer morning in Vegas and the new salon wasn't receiving much traffic, therefore, there was plenty of time to give Tawny the royal treatment.

After retrieving her son's significant other from the car, Bev clarified expectations with Simone Ferrar. Simone, the salon's owner was a stunning thirty-five year old and a former Miss USA contestant, as evidenced by her photos displayed in the lobby. She and her salon had just the right amount of sophistication and glamour that was needed to work the magic Bev had in mind. "Simone, this lovely young lady is Tawny Cooper. Tawny needs a fresh look because she's starting college and dating a handsome and intelligent young man with a very important job…who also happens to be my son."

"Hi, Tawny." Simone warmly greeted the giddy girl with a handshake. "You're absolutely stunning. It will be my pleasure working with you. And if your boyfriend has his mother's features, I imagine he's quite a catch."

Tawny was quick to end the speculation. "He's absolutely adorable and yes, he has his mother's looks!"

"You two!" Bev laughed at the comment then sobered. "But seriously, Greg does take after me."

"Greg is it? That's a nice name." One look and Simone knew Tawny's real story…the fluffy hair, big enough to cover the D cups the petite perfectly tanned girl didn't grow on her own, the lengthy diamond-studded nails, the revealing clothes, the hot pink heels, the furry purse and the biggest clue…the trendy but conservative boyfriend's mommy footing the bill. Yep…this girl was pregnant with Greggy's baby and the future mother-in-law wanted the little darling to pass for a stylish student, not a lucrative lap dancer. "Let's see…" Simone circled her prey and made the one statement she knew would confirm her suspicions. "I'm thinking we'll color treat…"

"I can't color my hair until I finish my first trimester," Tawny immediately answered.

Simone placed her hands on the naïve girl's shoulders and sweetly proded, "Don't you mean semester, college girl?"

"Oops." A blush enveloped her cheeks.

Bev couldn't help but smile. "She's very conscientious when it comes to the baby's health and I'm grateful for that. And she really is attending college…online classes through Community College of Southern Nevada. Eventually she'll transfer to UNLV."

"Tawny, Honey, it's okay." Simone waltzed over to her station waving for them to follow. "Look at this beautiful photo of my son. He'll be fourteen next week. He's the best accident that ever happened to me." Patting her chair, she said, "Take a seat and we'll consult for a few minutes." Motioning for Bev to step closer, she winked, "You too, Grandma."

Without hesitating, she approached, "That sounds so scary…yet so exciting."

Fluffing out Tawny's wild mane, Simone narrowed her gaze and set her imagination to work. "You've had one too many perms and because of the pregnancy, we can't use relaxing chemicals to straighten it. Hmm…if we go with some natural products and deep condition, then lose oh…about seven inches…taking it a few inches below the shoulder." Working her fingers through blonde locks, she continued her vision. "I'll add in some nice layers so you can get funky and flirty, but still smooth it for an elegant look or work it into a fun or sexy up-do depending on your mood…or Greg's." Simone winked at Bev, "Sorry, Mom, but we have to keep our options open…a style that works in the classroom and in the bedroom."

"Hey…it's no longer a shock." She tossed her arms in the air while chuckling, "Yeah…nothing makes a mother accept the fact that her baby boy is sexually active more than the knowledge he got a girl pregnant." Groaning, she added, "Also makes a mother realize her son is actively stupid on occasion."

Simone laughed with the endearing woman who obviously knew how to roll with the punches. "Okay, it's time to get to work…Tawny, The Extreme Makeover is about to begin."

North Las Vegas

9:52 a.m.

In a nasty part of town, in a rundown house with no working air conditioning on a 110 degree day, Sara continued processing while David Phillips packed up his supplies.

Pleased with Greg's handling of his assigned tasks in the house and his iron-gut tolerance of what was left of the victim's obliterated skull and brain, Sara had sent him outback a few minutes ago for some air and perimeter combing.

"Too bad they can't bring in a fan for you, Sara," David commiserated as he was finalizing for the body's removal. "You've got hours to go in this rancid room."

"Yeah…but blowing the evidence around won't make it go faster." Tape lifting the carpet, she sighed, "Anyway, the atmosphere will improve once you get the rotting corpse out of here."

"Oh good…the rotting corpse is here," Grissom cheerily announced as he stepped into the room. "Now I know I'm in the right hell hole."

Snapping her head toward the direction of the out of place voice, she grimaced.

"Happy to see me?" Gil asked his wife while masking his relief at finding her safe and knowing she wasn't amused.

"What are you doing here?" She wasn't in the mood to be babysat, no matter how good his intentions…and she exactly what his intentions were. For a moment her mind flipped back to his sudden appearance that doomed day on Dales Trail when he was certain she was pregnant from their dalliance in San Francisco.

Pulling his CSI ball cap out of his back pocket, Grissom put it on Sara's head. "It's getting sunny. Promise me you'll stay hydrated." Then he produced a Power Bar from his shirt pocket. "To go with your coffee. I noticed you didn't eat anything all night."

"So protective." Her heart soared.

"It's primal instinct now." He grinned as he stood. "You know…preservation of the species."

"It's happening again, isn't it?" Yes, she was certain he was going into preservation overdrive and she couldn't imagine living like this for nine months. "Don't you realize this is a bit extreme?"

"What?" He innocently replied while knowing exactly what she was implying. "I'm sorry? I don't know what you mean."

David kept busy while enjoying the banter. It was nice to be the outsider for a change rather than the husband in the line of fire. It was also intriguing because other than their amorous declarations and passionate kiss shown on the ten o'clock news, he had never seen Sara and Grissom in their spousal roles.

"I'll give you the first word," She sighed, "It's what we do at a crime scene…preservation."

Ignoring his wife's accusation, Grissom casually explained, "I was on the way home and thought I'd stop by."

Seizing with laughter after Grissom's lame lie, David let it slip, then quickly apologized, "Sorry..."

"That's okay, David, it was laughable." As she resumed tape lifting, she announced, "I think I should have gotten my husband a new GPS package for his car for his birthday because it's apparent his current one has a glitch. We live due south of the lab, but somehow he ended up north on his way home." Glaring at her meddling man, she snipped, "For an observant guy like you, I would expect the lack of million dollar homes to clue you in that you were in the wrong 'hood."

"You misunderstood. I was on my way home, but decided to turn around and come here instead." Kneeling beside her, he smugly said, "In my new position as Master Criminalist I can insinuate myself into any case for the good of the lab."

"You don't officially start your new position until Monday," She smartly reminded him before unleashing her wrath. "And what brilliant insights for the good of the lab were you hoping to glean from this case, Master?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "The vic's head was blown at close range…whoa…wonder how he died? David, any thoughts?"

"Oh no." He vehemently shook his head. "Keep me out this, please. Three's a crowd…well, not for some people in this town, but definitely for me."

Before Grissom could speak, Sara spouted off at him. "Where the hell is your vest and weapon? Please tell me you didn't park your Mercedes down the block and walk in here unarmed when you know there could be gang retaliation for this killing any minute? The DB was a key player in the Varrio 12 and the word is out. His chola was out front bawling her eyes out and screaming for revenge…" In disgust she added, "…while she was clutching their two month old son…it was quite touching."

Losing his cocky tone, Gil replied, "Look, I only wanted to…"

"It's not like this is the first time you've not thought of your safety. Syd Goggle anyone?" Jumping to her feet, she cut him off. "The next time you feel the urge to insinuate yourself into a case for the good of the lab, do the lab a favor and think first, because the lab won't be very happy to learn you've been shot dead on the street!"

"So busted," David muttered as he glanced over at his co-worker. "I know I said I wanted to stay out of this, but, Grissom, since you're a newbie, I feel obligated, out of the brotherhood of husbands, to tell you this is a good time to utter those two famous words every wife wants to hear…Yes, Dear."

Taking the more experienced man's advice, Gil flashed a smile in his wife's direction. "Yes, Dear."

David nodded approvingly. "Very nice…just the right amount of sincerity without sounding totally whipped." He chuckled. "Yeah…now that my wife is seven months pregnant, I'm saying those two magic words about every ten minutes. Sara heard me say it twice on my cell phone since we've been here." Standing up, he grabbed his case. "I'll be back for the DB in a few." And on the way out of the room he pleaded, "I'm busy enough already today, Sara, so try not to kill your husband. After all, he's just worried about you. There are much worse offenses."

Once David was gone, Sara sneered, "So much for you being The Bluff Master. David read you like an open book."

"Look, I…"

From outside, they heard Greg forcibly command, "Stop! Alto! Hands up! Manos arriba! Pronto! Sara! I need backup ASAP!"

Pulling her weapon, Sara ordered Gil, "Get help from out front then take cover!"

Procedure overruling emotion, Gil raced to the front of the house to alert the officers guarding the crime scene while Sara ran in the direction of Greg's panicky voice.

Once at the backdoor, Sara cautiously surveyed the situation. Greg was ten feet from the door with his weapon aimed at a teenage boy dressed in Varrio 12 fashion.

"Orale Chota!" The boy yelled while following Greg's instructions. "Hands are up and I'm not strapped!"

Her eyes scanning the yard for movement, Sara, with her weapon pointed at the teen, eased her way over to Greg's side and once there, her concern mounted. "You see his hands up, right?" When he didn't answer, she prodded, "Greg! You see his hands are up, right!"

"Yes," He finally answered as sweat poured down his face. Memories of Dales Trail plagued him…the images, the smells, the sounds. From that experienced he learned that in a blink of an eye everything can change and a moment's hesitation may cost you or someone else her life. "He doesn't have a weapon out," He stated in an effort to convince both her and himself.

Uncomfortable with Greg's twitchy body language, Sara gave another order. "I've got my weapon on him so you can stand down, Greg. Now, Greg!"

The teen broke his silence by yelling at Greg. "Vato Loco! You better listen to the puta…"

"Hey!" Sara barked at the teen once Greg lowered his weapon, "Keep your hands up and your mouth shut. On your knees pronto!"

As the cops flooded the yard and surrounded the teen, Sara waited for Greg to secure his weapon then tugged him toward the backdoor. "You okay?"

"Freaked." Breathing deep, he climbed the three stairs and retreated into the house with Sara behind him.

Gil was waiting inside as instructed and when he saw Sara and Greg return unscathed he started breathing again. "What the hell happened?" His eyes kept darting towards his wife to confirm she was really okay.

"Don't touch anything, Greg! "Sara warned when it looked like he was heading for the sink for some water.

"Sorry…not thinking," He replied in a pant as he paced the hallway. "I was casting a shoe print when that kid came flying over the block wall from the neighbor's yard. Next thing I know I have my gun on him."

"Nice reaction time," Sara complimented, hoping it would relax him. "You followed protocol and demonstrated a good command of the situation." She glanced at Gil, waiting for him to add something positive and hoping he wouldn't spout off about Greg being too shaky.

"Nice work, Greg." Gil stepped forward, cutting off Greg's pacing path. "You contained him. You prevented him from entering the house and surprising Sara as well as stopping him from contaminating the crime scene."

"I was shaking," He confessed while looking to his mentor for wisdom. "I was shaking with my finger on the trigger."

"But you held it together," Sara affirmed, knowing exactly what Greg was thinking. "You would have held it together even if I didn't show up. It was the first time you had to pull your weapon since Dales Trail..."

"Since I killed someone," He added while looking at Grissom. "That still haunts me. It was in my head…tweaking me."

"I know." Gil laid a hand on his shoulder, remembering to take a supportive approach with Greg. "It's normal. It wouldn't be normal if you killed someone and never thought about it again. That's what some of the guys we catch do, right? Like Sara said, you held it together and you were focused. You didn't do anything wrong, Greg. You were nervous, but it didn't influence your decision making skills." Looking him squarely in the eye, Gil said, "I'm not concerned. I'd send you out in the field with Sara again tomorrow."

Finally, with Grissom and Sara's confidence influencing him, Greg's mind calmed. "Right. Yeah. You guys are right. It's only the second time in my life I pulled a gun on someone, not that I'm hoping it becomes a habit. I did what I was supposed to do and it worked out. If there is a next time, it will be a little easier." Hands on his hips, he blew a heavy sigh. It surprised him how quickly he was able to shake off what just happened and move forward. "Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"That's supposed to be my line," Grissom smiled. "It's my birthday after all."

Rolling her eyes, Sara returned to the room she was processing. "Let's get back to work, Greg. You're in the room with me until we get an all clear from Vega. It will be fun, I'm going to make the birthday boy package all the evidence dripping with the vic's grey matter." Crossing her arms over her chest she postured in her husband's direction, "Unless you'd prefer to insinuate yourself back home and enjoy the nice surprise I left for you on your pillow before catching some Z's…so maybe you're not spent for our special dinner this evening."

Knowing his presence was not required, he waved, "I'll see you at home, Sara. Where I'm sure we'll discuss this incident in great detail."

"Yep!" She concurred before yelling, "Officer!" When the uniform cop now posted in the hall entered, she politely requested, "Would you please give this unarmed CSI an escort to his vehicle please? Thanks. He promises to bring his weapon the next time."

"Sure thing," Officer Muniz, nodded. "Follow me Mr. Grissom."

As Gil left, David returned with the stretcher. "Did I miss anything?" He teasingly queried of Sara as he readied to transfer the corpse.

Greg responded as he grabbed an evidence bag. "Uh yeah! I nabbed one of the DB's homies jumping into the yard and probably saved your life." Locking eyes with Sara, he said, "But once I subdued him, I let the cops take over because I've got important stuff to handle in here."

"Yeah, I heard about that out front, nice work, Greg." David chuckled, "But what I was really asking was, what did I miss between Grissom and Sara? Because I just saw him being shown the door."

"Ah…" Greg found his smile once more. "You missed the Sara Sidle Smackdown. You may not believe this but, she's the most commanding dominatrix in town."

David chuckled as he prepped the stretcher. "Really? Even better than Vegas' famous Lady Heather?"

Greg and Sara exchanged devious grins as they simultaneously answered, "Hell yeah."

Salon Simone
11:12 p.m.

Tawny's hair turned out just as lovely as Bev imagined, and now that her lethal-length hot pink tips had been replaced by acrylic fills of respectable size with a demure French polish, the end result was becoming more apparent. Once the mini skirt, tight black shirt and CFMs were exchanged for more tasteful fashions, she was confident the makeover would be a smashing success.

Bev knew this new fun and sophisticated look would also make the Labor Day visit to California much more pleasant for Tawny. With her new style she wouldn't receive disparaging looks or be at risk of snide comments from some of the country club's more conservative members. It would also make things easier for Greg when he dropped the bomb on the one critical person who was still in the dark…his father, Bev's husband, Dr. Scott Sanders. Bringing home a girl who looked like marriage material instead of magazine material would definitely soften the blow.

Sitting side by side enjoying French pedicures, Tawny and Bev continued their bonding session over caffeine-free mocha lattes which the shop's receptionist had fetched for them.

Blissful from the foot massage she just received, Bev asked her potential daughter-in-law, "Have you and Greg discussed baby names yet?"

Buzzing from the day of salon pampering and motherly care, Tawny's voice brimmed with happiness as she eagerly fielded the question. "Yes, Dylan if it's a boy. If it's a girl, Haleigh spelled h-a-l-e-i-g-h, instead of the more traditional h-a-l-e-y. Oh, and if it's a boy, he gets Greg's middle name…Hojem and if it's a girl she gets my middle name, Ann."

Bev tried them on for size. "Dylan Hojem Sanders or Haleigh Ann Sanders." Smiling, she glanced over at Tawny, "I love them both, but I'm rooting for a little Haleigh."

"Me too!" Tawny agreed, but then quickly clarified, "Well, a healthy baby of course is the most important thing…and a Sanders baby! But after that, a girl would be wonderful. Then when she gets older, we can bring her with us to have her nails done too!"

It was another one of those moments where Bev realized how surreal everything was and how young and candid Tawny is…to a fault. That was something she wasn't sure she could makeover by the Labor Day festivities at the country club.

"I think our baby will have brown eyes because Greg and I both have brown, and you have brown, my dad had brown too. What color eyes does Greg's dad have?" She sweetly asked.

The real answer…red. If Tawny shares with the entire country club, of which 98 are David's dental clients, the dubious 'we met while I was stripping at Tweeters, had unprotected booty-call sex and Greggy got me pregnant', story. "He has brown too, Dear," She replied, through a nervous smile.

The Grissoms'
11:22 a.m.

After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, Grissom headed for the bedroom and the surprise that Sara had mentioned she left on his pillow.

Although he was looking forward to the surprise, he was preoccupied with the pseudo-discussion he and Sara had at the crime scene. She was right. The same fear was surfacing. The fear of loss…double the loss.

Upon entering the bedroom, he was reminded of the last time the issue surfaced. That frightening day when he found himself sitting on the edge of a hospital bed looking at his wife's battered face and abrasion covered arms.

His emotions getting the best of him again, Grissom sadly said. "During this study I've been focusing on whether or not I was strong enough to be a father and have a child with you. I never thought to ask myself if I was strong enough to survive losing a child." His voice cracked. "After today I know I'm not strong enough to lose you. I don't think I can do it, Sara. I really don't think I can take the risk. I'm sorry."

"Could we let some time pass and see?" She asked in a hopeful tone. "Right now I think we're a little too emotional to make a decision."

In a weak voice, he asked, "You want to keep the study going?"

"Yes." She replied confidently while bringing his hand to her heart. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Grissom gulped some water and steadied his nerves. Tomorrow was Thursday, which meant he had a session with Dr. Myers and for the first time, he knew exactly what he wanted to discuss. He planned on marching in, sitting in a chair and saying, 'How the hell am I going to cope with my wife's pregnancy when thoughts of losing her and the baby start plaguing me the minute I think she could be with child?'

And while he wanted to sit and continue the agonizing debate with himself, his eye caught the glimmer of a silver bow on a package wrapped in blue paper and turned his attention.

After donning his glasses, he reached over and plucked the white envelope attached to the top of the gift. His lips immediately curved into a smile. It was one of Sara's famous notes. And as his fingers extracted the card, all the troublesome thoughts retreated and he lost himself in her words.

Dear Reluctant Birthday Boy,

For the first time in my life I have someone special to spoil on his birthday and I intend to do just that, thanks for relenting. I have four gifts for you…one sentimental, one practical, one nostalgic, one personal, and I will give them to you in this order.

This first gift, the sentimental one, was inspired by something a little birdie (Latin name: Gregus Sanderus) told me about you earlier in the week. The moment I heard about it, I thought of a frabjous birthday gift idea!

(Side note: I was shocked, but very happy to hear you shared some personal information with Greg. It's proof positive that therapy is working and you are keeping your promise to open up. Nice work!).

Any ideas what might be in the box? Come on, take a guess.

Love,

Sara, the mysterious gift giver

Setting the note on the bed, he picked up the package. "I know exactly what this is," He remarked as if she were there to hear. "You bought me a copy of Through the Looking Glass and you no doubt highlighted the word 'frabjous' to commemorate our Scrabble game."

When he pulled the lid off the box he saw another wrapped box inside with a note attached and hurried to read it.

My curious husband,

I bet your guess was that I bought you a copy of Through the Looking Glass as a sentimental reminder of our Scrabble game in Tahoe.

Open up the package and see if you're right.

Your all-knowing wife

Chuckling over her second note, he tore the paper off the package and revealed an antique copy of Through the Looking Glass with a note rubber-banded around the book.

To the man I love,

Even if you guessed correctly that it would be a copy of Through the Looking Glass, don't be too full of yourself. Don't even be pleased with yourself if you specified an antique copy. Why? Because this is no ordinary antique copy, it's quite special…sentimental in fact. Open the cover and find out why.

Curiosity killing him, he flipped open the book and when his eyes recognized the words he gasped. "How…"

Dearest Jillian,

Like Alice, never be afraid of experiencing a little adventure.
And if ever you find you can't experience one first hand,
you can always open a book and get carried away.

Love, Grandma Erin and Grandpa Owen

With haste, he grabbed the cordless phone from his nightstand and punched in Sara's cell phone number. Clutching the book, he circled the room analyzing how she could have obtained his mother's book.

"I see you're calling from home," She answered. "Have you opened your gift?"

"How?" Was all he managed to blurt.

"Remember…I have a Ph.D, an IQ of 146 and I'm a CSI…it's a powerful combination." She chuckled sweetly. "Greg said you donated the book to a local library. Because I was sick with the flu, he offered to do the research for me. I gave him the address of your mother's old house and he determined the libraries within a certain radius. Then he handed everything over to his mom…"

"That's why she's here?" Grissom quizzed as he dropped onto the bed overwhelmed by his wife's extreme orchestrations and the book itself.

"Well, sort of, she brought the book, but she could have Fed Ex'd it. She's really here because she was dying to meet Tawny. The book was an excuse to fly out."

Opening the book's cover once more, he ran his fingers over the inscription. "Honey, I'm stunned by the gesture, thank you."

"Good…that's exactly the effect I was going for. Anyway, to finish answering your question… Greg also said you told him there was an inscription in the book to your mom from her grandma. So, when Greg's mom called around, she asked the libraries if they had an antique copy of the book and if so, did it have an inscription perhaps containing the names Jillian or Cleary. It didn't take as long as we thought and Bev drove out and picked up the book. Oh…one more thing, I had faxed a letter to Greg which he forwarded to his mom to give to the library if she should find the copy. A donation letter promising to give $5,000 in exchange for returning the copy to its original owner's family. $5,000 is the going rate for a non-mint copy according to my research. They're going to use the money for new children's books. I thought you'd like that too."

"Unbelievable." He cradled the copy in his hand. "And I don't mean the process of obtaining it. I mean you and how lucky I am to have you as my wife." Sighing into the phone, he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too."

In the background Grissom heard Greg yell, I would have loved it if my mom had Fed Ex'd the freakin' book! "How nice, Greg's listening to you get mushy with me. I thought that was a secret side of you that only I can see and hear."

"Sorry," She laughed, "You're not the only one opening up and trusting people more. Earlier today I even described my underwear for him. But don't worry, Greggy won't tell a soul because he knows how to keep a secret…and if he tells, he'll owe Warrick and Nick twenty bucks each."

His brows knitting, Grissom groaned, "Excuse me?"

"Long story. Okay, I have to go now, Vega has some questions for us. Gift number two will be given to you this afternoon. It's the practical gift."

"Do Greg and his mother know about that one too?" He asked, half joking.

"Nope, but Wendy Blake knows about the nostalgic gift! Get some sleep Birthday Boy! Bye!"

After clicking off the phone, he tossed it onto Sara's empty side of the bed. What a difference a year makes, he thought as he remembered what he did for his birthday last year…nothing. And who he did it with…no one.

Once more he focused on the inscription, this time the names of his great-grandparents jumped out at him…Erin and Owen. Unexpectedly he started pondering if those might be nice names for a baby. Saying them out loud he gave tested their merit. "Erin Grissom…Owen Grissom." They sounded good and they both fit nicely with Gil and Sara…short, traditional names. He knew what Erin meant, Ireland. Owen's meaning was unknown though.

Spying Sara's stack of baby books on her nightstand, he rolled over and snagged the one that had the list of baby names. After a quick thumb through the pages, he found what he was looking for.

Owen – born of nobility

Upon reading the meaning, it struck him that Sara's name meant 'princess', a title of nobility. When the time was right, he decided he'd run it by her. For now, he'd keep it to himself along with all other hopes and suspicions regarding her possible pregnancy. Knowing Sara, she would be optimistic enough for the both of them so someone had to stay grounded.

Nordstrom's
12:04 p.m.

Flying high from her beauty makeover, Tawny bounded into the department store with excitement pulsing through her veins and Bev Sanders five feet behind her trying to keep up.

"Honey, how can you walk so fast in those high heels?" Bev inquired while she stared at the girl's sexy legs.

"Once you've been dancing on stage in stilettos for a while, you acquire really good balance and agility. You pick up speed from working the club floor." She paused at the bottom of the escalator to enthusiastically explain. "You see a big spender waving a c-note, you need to hustle to his lap before another girl."

"Ah." Bev desperately tried not to picture the scenario.

"Also, if you want to avoid a customer…you know, like a guy who reeks of his own body odor or a disrespectful pig who you're not in the mood to hear talk to you like you're a 'ho, you learn to move your ass to another part of the club and disappear quick." She winked, "You let the new girls service them and learn the hard way."

"Ah…I'm tracking you, Sweetie." Bev assured her with a nod and a smile as she motioned for Tawny to step onto the escalator.

"I was already great at balance when I first arrived in Vegas and started dancing at JJs because I took ballet for ten years. Started when I was three and didn't stop until I made the cheerleading squad." Smiling, she said, "Cheer skills helped my dancing career too. You know…the splits, the spread eagles and the..."

"Look we're here!" Bev exclaimed ready for a subject change. "I called my personal shopper, Ginger, at the Nordstrom's in Arcadia and she called over here to alert the personal shopping staff that we'd be coming. Trust me…they'll automatically suck up now that they've spoken to Ginger and know how much cash I drop shopping at Nordie's every year. They work on commission here."

At the concierge, Bev flashed her best 'I'm here to spend wads of money' smile and said, "I'm Bev Sanders. I believe you…"

"Welcome to Nordstrom's Vegas!" Susan, a customer-focused well-dressed forty year old shopping dynamo greeted. "Ginger told me you'd be coming in and ever since I spoke with her I've been anticipating your arrival."

"I'm sure you have." Bev dropped her arm around Tawny's shoulders. "This is my son's girlfriend, Tawny. She needs a wardrobe update."

"Hello, Tawny!" Susan shook her hand. "Wow! You're going to make my job very easy today because with a body like yours, I'd have to work very hard to find something that didn't look good on you. You're gorgeous. Your boyfriend is one lucky guy!"

"Thanks," She replied, happy with the compliment and thrilled with the level of sucking up.

"Here's the situation, next month for Labor Day weekend, Tawny will be visiting San Marino with my son, Greg. As is customary that weekend, we'll be spending a good deal of time at our country club." Giving Tawny's shoulders a reassuring squeeze, Bev continued, "While there is absolutely nothing wrong with this wonderful young lady, we all know how some people are…they judge books by their covers. I want to make absolutely sure Tawny fits in while in California and is given the respect she deserves."

"I'm tracking you," Susan nodded at Bev before turning to the concerned girl. "It's nothing personal, Sweetie. There's always a few caddy women in every crowd. They'd have a field day with you dressed like that, especially once they saw their men drooling all over you. Nothing prompts a caddy woman to enact revenge more than jealousy, and with your natural beauty...they have plenty to envy."

"It's okay. I'm ready for a fashion update!" Tawny enthused. "Now that I've met some of Greggy's friends, I realize my style is a little extreme for the crowd. They're all really respectable educated people. I don't want to change so much that I'm boring, but I want to fit in enough to not be the embarrassment of the group."

"Exactly!" Bev concurred. "I don't want Tawny's uniqueness to disappear, I just want her to get a fair shake…uh…I mean a fair chance to make a good first impression." Bev smiled proudly at her protégé then began downloading her mental list on the sales clerk. "Here's what she'll need. A casual colorful cocktail dress…something flirty and fun to show off her bubbly personality; a black cocktail dress… something that will leave the men quite appreciative of her beauty, but left guessing as to the intimate details; two bathing suits…both boldly taking advantage of her assets, but not obscene…no thongs." Chuckling she said, "I do have to think of my son's needs as well. He's been waiting forever to lie by the club pool with a beautiful girl at his side."

"Really?" Tawny joined in the laugh. "I'll be sure to shower him with extra attention poolside."

Bev couldn't imagine what 'extra' attention would look like since Tawny seemed intently focused on Greg's needs already. Recalling the girl's former occupation she cautioned, "Just remember, Dear we don't want Greg pushed so far he'll be forced to walk with a towel wrapped around his waist to hide his appreciation."

Covering her mouth as she giggled, Tawny flushed with embarrassment. "Mrs. Sanders!"

Susan found the exchange highly amusing. It was nice to have a mother who was a realist in regards to her son's libido. Yep, one vigorous sunscreen application from the bodacious bikini-clad Tawny and Susan was sure any young man would be reaching for an appreciation-shielding towel.

Catching her train of thought, Bev said, "She'll also need various daywear and casual wear…all trendy and suited for a stylish grad student who has a penchant for the hottest brand names."

Susan's eyes widened as her pen filled her notepad.

"We'll of course need the appropriate shoes and handbags to match as well as costume jewelry. Afterwards, I'd like someone from the Bobbi Brown counter to do her make up so we know which products to purchase."

"Anything else?" Susan asked.

"Wow!" Tawny stood in awe of the driven and extremely generous woman at her side. "This is even better than Pretty Woman!"

Pleased to know Tawny was enjoying the experience, Bev continued, "We'll also need to spend some time in the lingerie department. She'll need some suitable sleepwear for her stay at my house. Also, for a little joke we're going to play on my son, I'll need her to have the most absolutely unsexy grandma nightgown you can find. Think you can handle it all, Susan?"

With the verve of a soldier on a mission, she promised, "If not, I'll die trying!"

"That's the spirit!" Bev took Tawny's hand. "Let's go shop till we drop."

"Can I pick out something for Greggy too?" Immersed in Pretty Woman nostalgia, she said, "Because in the movie, Vivian buys Edward a new tie. Do you remember the scene? Edward comes home and finds her naked except for tie?"

"Is that what you had in mind?" Bev casually inquired before flustering into a heavy blush. "I mean buying Greg a tie…not acting out the scene from the movie!"

"A tie would be perfect," She replied while trying to recall the exact line from the movie so she would be authentic in her delivery.

Nick and Carrie's Apartment
2:45 p.m.

After sneaking out of work earlier than normal, Nick dashed home to try and catch Carrie in the act of setting up his birthday surprise. However, instead of finding Carrie, he found his best black suit on the bed along with a new dress shirt, an Armani black silk tie with a refined white and grey micro-fleck design and a note card with the words…Read Me printed on the front.

Happy Birthday Nick,

As promised, I'm taking you on a trip…

A trip down memory lane.

First we're going to play dress up…

Then later, we'll dress down and play.

I suggest you take a power nap…

Because you'll need your strength.

After you're rested, take a nice hot shower…

Or a cold one if your mind is racing.

Then put on your suit, Smooth Stokes…

And meet me at the Eiffel Tower at eight sharp.

I'm taking you to Paris, where it all began.

I've already packed your overnight bag…

Not that you'll need much for what I've got planned.

Oh…the things I have planned.

I packed a bag for me too…

And it has something extreme in it for the Birthday Boy to enjoy.

I'll give you two hints...leather and lace.

You'll get to choose the material and therefore the mood.

Au revoir,

Carrie

"Hot damn!" Nick exclaimed as he tossed the note on the bed. "How the hell does she expect me to nap after reading that! Napping is the last thing on my mind right now." Frustrated, he checked his watch. "Five hours!"

Grabbing his cell phone, he punched in his fiancée's code.

"Carrie Blake," She answered in a business tone.

"Nick Frustrated Stokes here!" He gasped into the phone. "Baby, that's just cruel setting me up like this and making me wait five hours."

"You weren't supposed to be home until five-thirty," She replied with amusement in her voice. "It's not my fault you got off early." Cackling, she asked, "Did you enjoy my note?"

Shaking his head, he quipped, "Yeah…it has the drool stains to prove it!"

Mercilessly she said, "I'll see you at eight, Birthday Boy. Bye."

"Hey!" After throwing the phone on the bed, he headed to the bathroom, muttering, "I don't think a cold shower is gonna be enough."