The Case of the Past Love

Chapter One

A/N This story is inspired and dedicated to Elaine Quell. Also a special thanks to Sonia Hill, Sallye Williams Consuela Sowell, Lynn Hathaway,and Kelly Bowman for helping me bring this idea to fruition.

I do not own these characters. They were created by ESG. I am just using them. Enjoy.

Perry Mason, head of the busiest law office in Los Angeles, and Della Street, his personal, confidential secretary and office manager, had been in an exclusively committed personal relationship for over two years. Perry was hoping an engagement would be the next step for them. Hoping and planning for it for a while, he was eager to hear the woman he adored accept his proposal. After a long day spent either in the office or in court, they would normally go home to their house in the valley, where he would cook dinner while she handled other chores so they could completely relax after dinner. But on the night Perry chose to enact his plan, none of that happened.

Instead, he reserved a table at one of their favorite quiet restaurants. Giovanni's Italian Bistro held personal memories for them. It was there that they had eaten on their first official date, and it was there that Perry had treated Della and Paul to a celebration after Paul's acquittal. But Paul, aware of the nature of the lawyer's plans, called himself away to work on a case.

Della, ignorant of Perry's plans, simply basked in the wonderful atmosphere. It was rare that she got her boss all to herself without a third wheel, and it was rarer still that he thought to make reservations for them himself. Once they were seated at a table toward the rear of the restaurant, Perry ordered drinks and offered a toast. Conversation flowed smoothly between them, and he was careful to keep things relaxed and casual. There was no reason to rush straight into the proposal, even if the ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

Just as she was biting into her appetizer, Della heard her name called from across the dining room.

"Della Street! Is it really you?" The warm, male voice boomed through the quiet restaurant. "I can't believe it! I never thought I'd see you again—not in this lifetime, anyway! And on my first night in California! Imagine me running into you. I can see that you're well. The years have been good to you."

By the end of the speech the man was standing beside their table, smiling down at Della with admiration and familiarity. Perry noted with something close to jealousy that Della blushed when she smiled back at him.

Still recovering from the shock of who stood beside her, Della managed to say, "Hello to you, too."

Perry held his breath, waiting for her to look at him, to acknowledge him.

"Thanks for the compliment. I'm as shocked as you are! I thought you vowed never to leave Chicago. What brings you to L.A.?"

The man's smile widened. "I am out here for a business conference for a couple of days and was going to grab dinner before I head back to the hotel. This place was recommended by the speaker, so I decided to give it a try."

"This place is one of my favorites. The food here is divine." From the corner of her eye she saw Perry arch an eyebrow in her direction. She finished with, "You won't be disappointed at all."

Perry narrowed his eyelids and frowned. He looked from the stranger—at least to him—back to Della, like a spectator following a tennis match. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then set it beside his plate. As the two continued to talk, he turned his attention fully to his dining companion, patiently waiting for her to introduce him. To his utter consternation, the man abandoned any pretense of heading to his own table, and instead appeared to be looking Della up and down as if she were the main course he had come to try. He did not pretend to glance at Perry. Instead, he inched closer to Della.

He cleared his throat, effectively ending the man's campaign to join them.

The man looked down at his hands quickly, then met Della's eyes again. "Della, I'm going to head to my table in a second, but before I do . . . I wanted to—I mean, it was really good seeing you after all these years, and—" he looked down at his hands again, then said, "but there has been something I have been wanting to do since you left Chicago all those years ago. I felt I never had closure and—well, I need to do this. I never should have let you slip away from me."

"Wh—"

He leaned forward and placed a long, lingering kiss on her lips for the whole restaurant to see. Perry shot to his feet, his imposing frame making the man seem . . . small. He shot a quick look at Perry, then hastily left the table. As he turned to walk away, Della realized where she was and with whom she was dining. Her faced blushed a deep red. She realized Perry was still standing. Glancing up at him, her heart smarted and her stomach turned when she saw that his face was the same shade as hers.

"Perry, I—"

"Are you alright, Baby?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She nodded.

"Care to explain who that was?" He slowly sank back into his seat. "Because you apparently forgot I was here with you. Are you ashamed of me? Am I a secret, Della? You didn't even introduce him to me, or vice versa."

Her embarrassment grew. "Perry, he was a friend from back home whom I haven't seen for years. I wasn't just surprised—I was stunned to see him here tonight."

From the tone of her voice, she had been stunned. Still, her oversight stung. Perhaps it was his male ego, or perhaps it was something he couldn't quite define, but he was smarting from her snub. He tried to shake it off, but the plans he had for the night were tabled indefinitely.

He could not mask the tension he felt, or the bitterness in his voice. "That kiss he gave you seemed more than friendly, Della."

"We used to go together."

"I see."

No, you don't see, she pleaded with him silently, slightly annoyed by his jealousy. I've never told Perry about him for a good reason! But now . . . How do I explain his importance without Perry going caveman right here in the restaurant?

Lowering her head so he could not see her eyes, Della considered the problem, then sighed. "Sweetheart, his name is Michael Domenico, and he has the dubious honor of being my ex-fiance." Her voice grew soft and reflective. "I ended things. It was over before I left for Los Angeles."

Her troubled eyes flew to his and she saw the deep hurt in his eyes. As she was about to elaborate, to explain, but the waiter came and set their entrees in front of them, ruining the chance. Instead of sharing their entrees, they ate in deafening silence. The longer they went without speaking, the more both became lost in their thoughts.

Perry's were focused on his thwarted plans, and on Della. This was not how I mapped this night out in my head! When was Della engaged? How did I not know? Had she told me before, and I dismissed it as being inconsequential? No, he decided after a quick look at her, she's deliberately kept this from me. She's been in my life for three wonderful years. We've been serious about each other for two! Well, I was serious from the start, but . . . He sighed. Face it, Perry. Della doesn't trust you to control your impulses. She doesn't trust you to give her space. It's her business. What came before she entered my life is her business. Then why does it hurt so damned much?

Della pensively pushed her food around on her plate. She stole a look at Perry every once in a while, but he was as stony and silent as the bust of Blackstone he kept in the office. Darn Michael! Why did the evening have to go downhill like this? Perry had something special planned. I don't know what, but I know he did. He was too proud of himself at the office, too confident Paul wouldn't finagle an invite to join us. And we were having a great time until . . . Her brows knitted together and she scowled down at her food. Why did Michael come over here? Why did he kiss me? Closure? Is that what he said? That's a laugh. He had his closure when I told him it was over, that it would never be him. And then I had to go and forget to introduce him to Perry, like I was ashamed! I'm not! I love Perry! How could I forget to introduce the love of my life?

The silence continued until the server returned to take their plates. They both looked up, declined dessert and set their napkins on the table. Perry asked for the check. A few minutes later Perry held out Della's chair for her but did not take her elbow. Instead, he marched toward the coat check counter, leaving her to trail behind him. As they were leaving Michael intercepted her. Once again Perry lingered, sure she wouldn't forget to introduce them a second time.

"Della, before you go, I was hoping to invite you out for dinner sometime this coming week. I would love to catch up, to hear how you've been enjoying the West Coast, and give you the latest gossip from home!"

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she had the chance, Perry turned and stepped several paces away from them. Annoyed both at Michael and Perry, she hastily declined the invitation and started to walk away. To her consternation, Perry was at the door. He didn't even turn to look back at her. No hand to the elbow, no warm arm around her shoulders or waist. No smile, no light in his blue eyes, no dimples. She felt . . . empty.

Outside the car was at the curb, waiting. Perry was behind the wheel. Once the valet assisted her into the sleek automobile, she looked over at him. No matter what else was wrong between them tonight, she could still read him like a book. His clenched jawline told her he was focused—and fuming—and his steely glare through the windshield told her any attempt to engage him in conversation would end in frustration or tears (or both).