Many thanks to those who encouraged me to get back to writing.
The Case of the Well Planned Apology
"Oh, please, Mr Mason," Della muttered in a sugary sweet voice. "I just don't know what to do. You simply must help me out of this ridiculously stupid situation I've gotten myself into with my incredibly stupid choices," she continued. If it were possible, the table she was polishing would have feared for it's very life or at least its finish.
There was a knock at her door and she turned with a huff to glare at it.
"If he thinks he can just come over here and smile at me and everything will be fine, he's got another think coming," she muttered.
She jerked the door open to find Paul Drake leaning jauntily against her door frame. He took a cautious step backwards at the look on her face.
"What did I do?" he asked.
"You're a man," she spat at him.
"I'll admit to that. If it's safe to do so."
"Some floozy bats her eyes and uses the little baby voice and acts all weak and helpless and you men fall all over yourselves trying to fix all her problems."
"I don't do that."
Her eyebrow lifted.
"Okay. Maybe. Sometimes." He shrugged. "Guilty. It's flattering to have someone looking at you like you hung the moon. But it does get old after a while." After studying her for a moment, he continued. "I'm guessing this is about Perry's new client."
"No," she protested. Then sighed., "Maybe. A little." She flopped down on the sofa. "I know she's a client and nothing more, and I don't usually let it get to me, but today, it did. We had plans tonight, and he just blew me off to walk her through things again."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
"His loss is my gain. Go get your glad rags on, Beautiful. We're stepping out tonight."
"I don't think so, Paul, but thank you."
"I know I'm a poor substitute, but it's our anniversary, too, after all."
She looked at him curiously.
"I know I'm not Perry, but I was there when the two of you first met. Meaning it was also the first time you and I met, meaning it's our anniversary, too," he concluded.
"What about Hannah?" she asked.
He looked down at his shoes. "She had other plans for tonight."
"Is everything okay with you two?" she asked.
"Sure. We're good."
"She's really good for you, Paul."
"I know. I think so, too. Problem is we're both pretty independent and you know how that goes.."
"It can be tough," she agreed.
"So what do you say and I forget what's his face and what's her name and have a couple of thick steaks and do some dancing?"
"You know what? I think we definitely should," she agreed. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll go get changed. The newspaper is on the table there if you want something to read while I'm getting dressed."
He looked at the paper, then at her. "Got a copy of 'War and Peace?'"
She looked confused.
"I know how long it takes you women to get dolled up."
Narrowing her eyes and biting her lip to keep from laughing, she threw her dust rag at him. "And to think I once called you 'charming.'"
He laughed and shooed her away, making himself comfortable with the paper.
In a surprisingly short time, she returned to the living room, hair and makeup redone and a deep blue off the shoulder dress hugging her curves before ending just above her knees. She cleared her throat, causing Paul to look up.
He jumped to his feet, a broad smile on his face.
"Look at you, Miss Street."
"Why, thank you, Mr Drake," she smiled demurely and turned slowly, earning a low whistle from her companion.
"You sure you want to be seen with the likes of this old detective?"
"You're the only one offering, so...sure."
Laughing, he offered his arm and escorted her to his car. On the ride to the restaurant, she stared out the window at the passing scenery, aware of his occasional glances.
Their destination was a small steakhouse the had often visited and the maitre'd looked slightly confused as he led them to their table.
"Mr Drake. Miss Street."
He seated them and left them with their menus, worriedly glancing back and forth between them and the door to a private patio dining area.
Paul watched Della, distractedly looking out the front window.
"How's your aunt doing?" he asked her. "Did she enjoy her trip to Europe?"
"Uh huh. Fine."
"And your brother? He and his wife are expecting, right?"
"Uh huh."
"And your mother? She's joined the crew of a pirate ship ."
"Yeah."
She started and turned her attention to him.
"Pirate ship?"
"Just seeing if you were paying attention."
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Paul. This probably wasn't a good idea. I'm afraid I'm not very good company tonight."
"You're my friend, Della. I'm always here for you, regardless. I always enjoy your company."
She smiled her thanks.
"You look great, by the way."
"Thank you , kind sir."
"Perry's a very lucky man."
Her gaze slid away again, a shadow crossing her face.
"He loves you, you know. Really loves you."
"I know he does," she acknowledged. "And I really love him. And I know him and I understand him, but sometimes he still drives me nuts!"
Paul started to answer, then stopped, his gaze drawn to something behind her. He smiled and Della turned to see what had caught his attention.
"Hannah," she called, smiling at the tall, slender blonde crossing towards them. She arrived at the table, leaning to give Della a hug before reaching for Paul's wineglass and taking a generous swallow of the deep red liquid.
Della grinned, watching the detective watch the pretty surgeon he had been dating for several months. They had met when one of his operatives had ended up in her care after an operation gone sideways. His hard headedness was a good match for hers and the two had started spending a great deal of time together, sometimes joining Perry and Della for a night out.
"Paul said you had plans tonight," she mentioned, somewhat confused since the man's earlier comment had led her to believe they were a bit strained at present and there was no sign of that.
Drake had risen at her approach and now pulled back his chair in invitation. She smiled at him gratefully and sank into it.
"I did. Do. Dinner with a friend." She sighed. "He's having a really rough day and I'm not sure how to help him." She took another, smaller sip of wine and looked over to Della. "Maybe you could talk to him," she suggested.
"Me? Why would he want to talk with me?" the brunette asked.
Hannah shrugged. "Because you're much better than I am at getting people to talk. The people I deal with are usually unconscious and I don't need to make conversation so I'm not really as comfortable talking to people. Besides, I think some of his problems may be legal related and maybe you'd be able to convince him to see someone."
"I can't offer legal advice," Della reminded her.
"I know, but maybe you can point him in the right direction at least."
She went back around the table to Della. "Would you mind terribly?" she asked quietly. "I'll introduce you, ask him if he'll keep you company while I check on a patient."
"And why do I need to be kept company?"
"Because..you're waiting on your date and you've got a jealous ex who might be stalking you?"
"That's quite the story."
"Please, Della. I'd really like a few minutes to talk to Paul, but I don't want to leave my friend alone for too long. He's feeling a bit down in the dumps and I don't want him to feel deserted," she explained with a pleading look.
Della looked at her, then at Paul, noting the hopeful expressions on their faces. Sighing, she nodded her agreement and rose.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Hannah responded with a hug. "I owe you."
"Yes, you do. You both do."
"I'll be right back," Hannah told Paul, leading Della towards the patio door. She pushed it opened, gesturing for Della to precede her.
The brunette didn't even realize the other woman hadn't followed when she felt his presence moments before catching sight of his broad shouldered figure leaning against the railing.
She walked over and leaned next to him, looking out at the city lights.
"Why do I feel like I was just set up?"
"Because you're a very perceptive woman," he replied, turning his head to watch her.
"This was all your doing?"
He nodded. "I didn't think you'd be inclined to see me after my actions earlier today and I hoped that Paul and Hannah might...ease things along."
She grunted softly.
"Did it work?: he asked, studying her intently.
"Might have been better to wait until I had finished at least one glass of wine," she told him with a small smile. "Are you going to explain to me what this was all about?:
He turned to face her more fully. "I owe you an apology, Della. After you left, I realized what had happened and I felt bad."
She arched an eyebrow and nodded. "Go ahead."
"Della, I'm so sorry about the way I treated you today. I acted without thinking and hurt you because of it. I was an oblivious, boorish, self centered jerk and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I would like to promise it won't happen ever again, but I don't know that I could keep that. I do promise that I will try to be more aware of how I treat you."
"Thank you, Perry." She reached over to lay her hand on his. "I'm sorry, too."
"For what?' he asked, his thumb caressing her hand.
"For the way I reacted. I know you and I generally know how you're going to act in a given situation. You're an intelligent, insightful man, but when it comes to the helpless female routines, you let yourself get sucked in every time. It just really infuriates me to watch you let yourself be manipulated by those…"
"Women in trouble?" he asked.
She sighed. "I know. It's just…"
"Are you jealous, Della? Because you have no reason to be. They're cases to me. Nothing more."
Della considered. "No, not jealous. I have no doubts about what we have. Frustration, I suppose. With the men clients, you're usually pretty quick to call them out when what they're telling you doesn't make sense. With these women, it seems like you let them lead you on way too long."
He started to speak.
"I know you're smarter than that. I know that in the end, you manage to get the truth out of them. I don't usually let it bother me, but today, it did. I'm sorry, Perry. Really sorry."
"Maybe because today is the anniversary of the day we met, the day I hired you...or you hired yourself," he corrected with a grin, "and I had promised you a night out."
"Probably," she admitted. "We've been so busy for the last several weeks and I was really looking forward to tonight and it just seemed like you were completely taken in by her and had forgotten about me and our plans."
He grimaced. "To be honest, in that moment, I probably had. About the plans, anyway. Never you. I admit sometimes I get so wrapped up in our practice that I take you for granted. When you walked out, I immediately realized what I had done, decided nothing about her situation was that urgent, and we would see her tomorrow and sent her off so I could come up with a plan for a proper apology."
"But I know that about you and how you operate and I shouldn't let it bother me," she reminded him.
"I'm actually more bothered by the fact that you believe I could be so easily manipulated by a pretty face," he told her, a small grin showing he was toying with her. "Other than your own beautiful face."
"Well, you DID date Laura," she reminded him. "How long was that?:
"Too long," he admitted. "But it was a long time ago and I'm making much better decisions now, don't you think?"
She nodded, but looked slightly troubled. "Do you feel like I manipulate you, Perry?"
He considered a moment. "I'm sorry, dear. I was trying to be funny, but that is a very negative word. I suppose what you do is more along the lines of reminding me to do what I know I should anyway. You're my conscience when I don't want to listen to my own and you know as well as I do that I would regret my decision later."
She reached up to stroke his cheek. "I don't ever want you to feel like I'm manipulating you, Perry. I don't want our relationship to be like that."
"It's not. You encourage me to be a better me, Della. I've truly learned to be much more discerning about the women in my life since my Laura days. Look at how well I did hiring a secretary," he reminded her.
"Mmmhmm," she agreed. "And how many had you run through before that?"
"I had to have SOMEONE while I was waiting for you," he explained.
"If you had placed that ad earlier, I would have been there earlier," she told him.
He laughed. "I should have, but everyone told me not to. Paul. The agency. Even the guy at the newspaper told me no one would ever respond to an ad like that."
"Did anyone?" she asked. "I mean, other than me?"
"I did have a couple of inquiries. The first thing they asked about was the pay. That got their interest, but when I mentioned the hours I needed them to be available, they lost interest."
"For that amount of money?"
"To be honest, I didn't offer any of them what I offered you. It was still a very good offer, but less than the offer you got."
"Why?"
"Because when I made the offer to you, you had already proven yourself to me. The condition of my office when I came in compared to how it looked when I left proved to me not only that you were up for hard work, but that you saw what needed to be done without having to have specific instructions. The fact that you were still ready to get to work after that and that you never mentioned the time showed me that you were up for the long hours."
"I honestly didn't even notice how late it had gotten," she admitted.
"That was an additional point in your favor. You were interested in the cases I was discussing. You listened, you asked thoughtful questions that showed me you actually understood what I was talking about.."
"I was a little concerned that you might prefer a secretary who kept her mouth shut and just took notes," she told him.
"Absolutely not," he assured her. "I was impressed with your knowledge and interest and I realized that that was what I had been looking for. Someone who shared my passion for justice and was willing to put in the time and energy for it."
"I probably shouldn't admit this, but I would have taken the job for half of what you offered," she admitted with a smile.
He leaned close. "And I probably shouldn't admit that I would have doubled it if you had hesitated.."
"Now he tells me," she mumbled under her breath.
"You know everything I have is yours for the asking," he reminded her, reaching for the velvet box in his jacket pocket.
She reached over and stilled his hand. "I know, Perry. And for now, it's enough for me to know."
Perry nodded, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips for a tender kiss.
"Whenever you're ready," he assured her.
Della leaned in and gently kissed his cheek, then his lips.
"So, does this mean we're good?: he asked.
"We're wonderful," she told him.
"Good. Because I think those two are going to end up with sore necks from trying to listen without being seen."
She turned to the french doors to see Paul and Hannah suddenly straightening and pretending to be studying the linens on a nearby table.
"Come on out here and join us," Perry called out to the duo.
Paul pulled a 'who, me?' face as he pointed at himself.
Della crossed to open the doors, and informed the waiter that the other couple would be joining them on the patio for dinner.
"Are you sure?" Hannah asked. "Paul said it was some kind of anniversary for you and we don't want to be in the way."
"You won't be," the other woman told her. "It's the anniversary of the day Perry hired me and, as Paul pointed out, he was right there, so it's our anniversary, too."
They took their seats as the waiter quickly arranged the table to accommodate the additional diners.
"Though to be honest," Paul told her, "I'm still not entirely sure who hired whom."
"This sounds like a story I need to hear," she said, eyes dancing with curiosity.
"It all started with a newspaper ad," Della started.
"An ad that Paul told me not to bother with," Perry interrupted
"An ad that nobody in their right mind would respond to," Paul explained. "No offense, Beautiful."
"How could I possibly be offended by that?" she asked in a sarcastic tone.
"So, what did this mysterious ad say?"
By the way, if you're interested in the ad and the story of how someone hired someone, see my story 'Beginnings'. I'd love to know what you thought.