Perry insisted she go home and enjoy the lovely weather. He promised he only had another half-hour of work, an hour at most. Della listened, this time, the warm drops of sun falling through the window playing a pied piper's tune as she'd gathered her things and demanded he also leave on time to catch some of the evening sunlight.

Part of her wanted to insist he drop by later for dinner and a glass of wine. He'd finish up in just enough time for her to make something artful and seemingly effortless, a dish like they'd order at one of the restaurants Perry brought her to.

Not, of course, that she had to impress him.

Her plans had been dashed, however, when, after a long day, she sat on the couch for a few moments of rest before calling Perry. She'd kicked off her tight shoes and luxuriated in the warm breeze blowing in through the open balcony doors. When Della next opened her eyes, nearly two hours had passed.

Instead of a grand meal, she had canned soup and a piece of fruit. After eating, she washed up the sink of dishes and took a relaxing bath before going to bed early.

Something pricked her awake early in the night, somewhere around 10 o'clock. It wasn't a bad feeling per se, like something bad was happening, but definitely felt like something was off.

Perhaps it was simply her body not being used to being in bed so early. The long nap on the couch could also be playing into the restlessness.

But no matter how much she tried to dismiss it, she couldn't shake the feeling.

It had to do with Perry, Della was certain. How she knew, she wasn't sure, but she did nonetheless.

She picked up the telephone and asked to be put through to Perry's apartment. It rang and rang until the operator came back on the line.

"It appears no one is home, Miss," the operator stated.

"Yes, it appears," Della replied. She hung up and dialed the number of the unlisted phone on his desk. It rang four times before the line clicked live and her boss's sleepy voice came across the wire.

"Hello?"

"Thirty minutes? An hour at most?" she asked. Perry chuckled.

"You caught me," he admitted. "But you are still up, too," he rebutted.

"I was heading to bed and played a hunch," she lied, not wanting to admit she had a sixth sense that was somehow tied to his well-being.

"Whoever taught you to play hunches was an excellent teacher."

"And whoever taught you to go to bed on time was terrible."

"I was just getting ready to leave," he promised.

"I think I've heard that already today," she teased.

"This time, I'm telling the truth."

"Call me when you get home," she insisted, "so I know how much coffee to make in the morning."

"I disturb you all day. Are you sure you want me disturbing you all night, too?" he asked.

"I don't mind," she promised.

"I'll call."

Della was just dozing off when the telephone rang again.

"I'm home," he announced when she picked up the receiver.

"Good. Now get some sleep and I'll see you fresh and ready in the morning," Della replied.

"Yes, boss," he teased. "Goodnight, Della."

"Chief," she said quickly, hoping to catch him before he hung up.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to come for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I'd love to."