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"Gertie, have you seen Della?" Perry had searched the entire office suite but found no sign of his secretary. As soon as their new client, a beautiful young 'sulky' girl, had departed Della disappeared as well.
The young blonde with Betty Boop curls and a generous figure squealed, startled by Mason's booming voice. Gertrude Lade had only been working as receptionist about a month and thus far most of her interaction had been with Miss Street.
"I... umm... she said she had to go pull some files, Mr. Mason. Shall I run down and get her for you?"
"I'll go. It's almost closing time. Make sure the office is locked up, will you, Gertie?" Mason gave the girl his most dazzling smile, setting her atwitter as he left the office.
"Run me down to the second floor, Jerry." Mason stood in the elevator, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, with a huge smile on his face as he thought about Della... as he thought about the kiss.
When they'd moved into the large office suite upstairs, the lease on the second floor space still had a year to run. Della had decided they could use the space for file storage, at least until she had a chance to organize it 'even better'. Perry had laughed and teased her that she wanted to be able to lay her hands on any information in thirty seconds instead of the forty-five that it took after her first round of organization. He suspected that this was where Della had retreated.
As usual his deduction was correct. Della was in the old office, elbows resting on top of a filing cabinet, with her head lowered into her hands. Not realizing that she hadn't noticed him come in, he walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped and squealed, swinging around with hand fisted.
Perry caught her arms before she could make contact. "It's just me."
"Chief... I didn't hear you... I'm sorry." Perry really hated the contrite expression on her face.
"Will you stop apologizing, woman?" He growled but his eyes held a sparkle.
"Fine! How dare you sneak up on me and scare me like that! Couldn't you cough or knock or something?"
"Better. Why did you take off?"
Now Della grinned sheepishly. "I wanted that woman's files out of the office as soon as possible."
That brought a deep belly laugh from Perry. Grabbing Della's hand, he led her over to the desk and plopped down on the edge so that she was in front of him. "I have something for you."
Green eyes grew wide at the small jeweler's box he pulled from his pocket, but she relaxed a bit when he casually tossed it to her rather than open it up himself. Curious, she flipped it open and found a tiny clock face. It was a charm, she realized, for the gold bracelet she often wore.
"It's lovely, Chief, but..."
"First anniversaries are traditionally paper but you already have plenty of that and I found out that watches or clocks were also acceptable. I thought you could put that on your bracelet. You do remember that a year ago today you started working with me, don't you?"
Caught up in the case, Della had completely forgotten. Her eyes misted again at the evidence of Perry's thoughtfulness.
"Thank you... Perry." Leaning forward, she placed a gentle kiss on Mason's cheek... then another on the corner of his mouth... and one more directly on his lips. By this time his hands had found her hips and pulled her forward between his legs. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck.
The chemistry was there, passion sparking just as quickly as ever, but neither pushed forward, remaining content at that moment simply to kiss... one long never ending kiss, each trying to absorb the other. Only when Perry pulled her hips fully against his did Della pull back with a short cry. She quickly moved out of his reach but he remained where he was, breathing deeply as he stared at her swollen lips, her heaving chest.
"Della?" he questioned quietly.
"I want you." She answered back, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"What's wrong with that? I want you too."
"I don't want to want you."
"Why not?"
"Because even though this thing between us was just casual, I deserve more than to just be a substitute for Laura Elliott."
"Della Street is a substitute for NO woman. There isn't a woman on the planet who she would be second place to. I'm not looking for a temporary replacement, Della." Her reaction to his impulsive proposal popped into his mind. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all. As much as he had missed her... as much as he still wanted her... them... he didn't want her to have any regrets. He couldn't push her before she was ready again.
Her eyes grew wary when Perry stood but he simply adjusted his coat over certain... inflated parts. "Gertie has already closed up the office. Let's get your things and head out."
"I can get a taxi..." Perry was glad to see a touch of regret on Della's face.
"Nonsense. It's our anniversary. I'm taking you to dinner. No arguments!" He smiled tenderly at her as he gestured toward the door.
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So things went on as they had been, lots of work, lots of long hours, lots of late dinners, many with dancing... and yes, the occasional kiss... until the day that Perry realized Della hadn't just waited in the wings for him while he was with Laura.
The morning had been spent in court then the trio had grabbed a quick lunch at Clay's Grill. Perry had a deposition scheduled for two and Della was determined to get him to address some mail before then so she pushed him through his private entrance with determination and a firmly pointed finger. He smirked but plopped down at the desk and pulled the 'must be dealt with now' pile toward him. Paul laughed as he threw himself sideways in his favorite chair.
Della paused by the intercom on her way to her seat beside Perry and buzzed Gertie to let the receptionist know they had returned.
"Umm... Miss Street... there is a gentleman here..."
"Mr. Mason is busy right now. He'll need to make an appointment."
"No, Miss Street. The gentleman is here to see you."
Perry's eyebrow popped up in question. Della shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "All right, Gertie. I'll be right out." She turned to her boss. "Keep working. I'll be back before you know it."
Mason tried, but barely a minute passed before his curiosity won out and he headed toward the outer office, eager to get a look at Della's visitor. He got an eyeful.
Della Street was wrapped in the arms of a tall blonde Adonis who was kissing her passionately. She wasn't enthusiastic... exactly... but Perry got the sense that her reluctance might be because they were in her work place. He cleared his throat loudly and pointedly.
The man raised his head, eyes narrowed, but his expression quickly became affable. "So sorry, old chap. I quite forgot myself. The excitement of seeing this beautiful woman after so many months away." The words were spoken in a polished British accent.
Della dropped her hand from her mouth where her fingers had been wiping at smudged lipstick and turned to her boss. "Mr. Mason, this is Wilhelm Whitley-Smythe, a... friend of mine. He just arrived back in town..."
"I should have called, I know, but I was overcome with longing to see Della." The two men had moved closer together, face to face in a congenial but 'sizing up' mode as they shook hands vigorously. Perry was glad to note that he was taller than Smythe, even if only by about half an inch. He was probably stronger, definitely broader of shoulder... but the Brit was imbued with a graceful athleticism that Mason definitely lacked. He didn't like the man on sight.
"Of course," Perry responded, teeth on edge, "but we are still working..."
"Yes, yes... I'll run along now." Smythe turned back to Della. "I'll pick you up at eight, darling. We'll go to the Florentine Garden... or maybe Ciros? Wear that lovely white dress. It will be a night to remember, I promise." Mindful of the other men in the room, for Paul Drake was leaning against the doorway with a droll smirk on his face, Wilhelm bent gallantly over Della's hand, bestowing a delicate kiss to its surface before he departed.
Gertie sighed, loudly and dramatically. "Gosh, Miss Street, he's dreamy!" She squeaked.
"Don't we have some work to do?" Perry barked and strode back to his office, refusing to meet Paul Drake's amused gaze as he passed.
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"Wilhelm Whitley-Smythe! HA! I'll bet he's really Willie Smith from the Bronx. That fake accent... and that name! It's obviously phony. British people don't name their children Wilhelm... especially not since the war. Find out everything you can about him, Paul." Perry raged.
Paul barked out a laugh, the smirk that had been on his face all afternoon still there. Knowing how much the handsome man was getting underneath his friend's skin the detective had delighted in questioning Della about the fellow repeatedly. Oh, Perry tried to hide it. Maybe Della hadn't even noticed, although Paul wouldn't place money on that... but he noticed. What the hell was going on with those two? Paul decided to poke the beast.
"He's a movie director who has been shooting in Europe for the last three months. Della met him about a month before he left and they dated. He's taking her to Ciros tonight and he's 'dreamy'. How much more do you need to know?"
If looks could have killed... "You know what I mean, Paul. Background, finances, previous girlfriends..."
"Do you really want Della to find out you checked up on her boyfriend? She'll be furious with you. Besides, I'm betting he'll be gone before long... hoping at least. I figure it's my turn next."
Perry's clenched fists came down hard on his desk as he stared at his friend, eyes blazing. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Della seems to swap her men fairly often. I plan to be the next one to sample her... favors. I like a woman who isn't afraid to show she enjoys sex." Paul couldn't have begun to describe the enjoyment he was getting from pushing Perry's buttons. The lawyer's blue eyes were almost black with anger.
"You don't have a clue..."
"If you didn't want me to hear you two then you should have remembered to lock the office door while you were playing slap and tickle in the other room. Convenient having a bed right there, wasn't it? I was gentleman enough not to open the door and look in but the way that woman was moaning and screaming... oh, I was tempted... what the hell were you doing to her, Perry, to make her scream that way?" Paul knew from the changing expressions on Perry's face that he'd hit pay dirt. Boss and secretary had been involved and on a very physical level.
"Get out," Mason commanded with barely controlled rage. "And NEVER let me hear you talk about Della like that again."
"Okay, okay. Sorry, I didn't think you'd mind. You dumped her after all." Paul unfolded his lanky body from his chair and stubbed out the cigarette he'd smoked to almost nothing.
"You don't know what the hell you are talking about!"
"Uh... Laura? You moved on so Della eventually did too, with her dashing European playmate. That's what happened, isn't it?" Paul slapped the surface of the desk as he planted a hip on the edge, his face smug. "I knew the two of you were involved!"
Suddenly Perry understood how he'd been played. "You... bastard! You didn't hear us!"
"Nope... but you sure didn't deny it so I obviously could have."
Perry dropped back into his chair, no longer sure if he was angry at Paul or not. "How did you know... umm...?"
Paul shrugged. "Della's vocal about everything else so why not that and have you seen the woman eat?! A girl who attacks a steak with that much gusto... you just know she's gonna love sex. But what I don't understand is why is she going out with Willie tonight instead of you? It's obviously driving you crazy."
"She doesn't want anything serious."
"Sounds perfect. Neither do you... do you?"
Perry wasn't sure how to answer that question.
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