Chapter 2

Tuesday

"I can't see you tonight, Stephen." Della kept her voice low and her eye on the private office door to her left. Her boss didn't like personal phone calls unless they were for him. Keeping track of which women were on his 'take her call/don't take her call' list was a daily feat. Chatting with his jealous, suspicious, vitriolic wife was another joy altogether.

The voice on the other end of the wire was trying to sound persuasive but it ended up as plaintive. "Come on, Della. I need to talk to you about something important."

She sighed. She didn't go out much during the week and with her interview tomorrow she didn't want to go out tonight, but Stephen could be obstinate. She also didn't want to fight with him over the phone.

"Alright... but it has to be an early night. I've got a full day tomorrow."

"Shall I pick you up at the office?" Smugness entered the tone now that he had gotten his way.

"That will be fine." It really wasn't, none of this was, but it was the easiest thing to say.

~P&D~

Della had a personal rule against dating any of the lawyers at her firm. If things went wrong, it was always the secretary who left - and took a reputation with her. Della still dated lawyers, just none at Murphy and Young.

It had been 'a friend of a friend of a friend' connection that introduced Della to Stephen Raines at a party full of secretaries, clerks and junior associates from various firms. They danced, talked - Stephen could be a bit pompous, but Della hadn't met many lawyers who weren't - and had enough of a good time for him to ask her to dinner the following week.

They continued to see each other regularly, but not exclusively.

~P&D~

Della lagged behind the crush of employees leaving not only Murphy and Young, which took up an entire floor, but all the nine to fivers who worked on the other nineteen floors. Plenty of people knew she had been dating Stephen, but she didn't want anybody speculating about him picking her up in the middle of the week.

The sidewalk was crowded with people who couldn't care less about whose car she got into, but Della was pleased to see him at the curb a little way down from the front of the building. She didn't wait for him get out but opened the door herself and slid in.

"Hello, Della; you look lovely."

"Not bad for the end of the day," Della conceded as she realized something about him was different. "You're looking pretty good yourself. That's a new suit your wearing, isn't it?" It looked new... and expensive. Stephen wasn't the frivolous type. He dressed well but not extravagantly, so this was a bit out of the ordinary for him.

It was also unusual that it looked so good on him. Stephen's style attitude was more 'a suit is a suit' but someone had taken the time to convince him to buy the charcoal pinstripe that accentuated his sandy hair and gray eyes rather than overpowering them.

He preened a bit, adjusting his tie in the rearview mirror. "They'll be deciding on the new junior partnerships soon, and I thought I should look the part. Appearance doesn't mean as much as billable hours, but it's still important."

Since Benson-Mead was nearly twice the size of Murphy and Young Della thought it would take more than a few new suits to make Stephen stand out. He wasn't a bad lawyer; he just wasn't an exceptional one.

~P&D~

Stephen made her a drink and they made small talk while he cooked. They'd had dinner in his apartment before. He served basic bachelor fare but he did it well. Whatever had been so urgent that he had to see her tonight didn't seem to be important enough for him to get to the point.

Della kept up her end of the conversation during dinner, declined his offer of wine, and finally balked when he wanted to make coffee.

"What did you want to talk about, Stephen?"

"Let's go in the other room."

The apartment was small which meant getting from the dining area that fit two intimately - four was a tight squeeze - to the living area took all of about ten steps. She sat on the couch while Stephen stayed on his feet.

Della watched him pace back and forth a couple of times before prodding him again. "Either get to the point, Stephen, or take me home."

Stephen stopped and squared his shoulders but didn't look her in the eye as he blurted, "I'm going to be married."

"Married?" she repeated blankly. It took her a moment to process the fact that he was announcing not proposing.

"Her name is Alicia Mead. She's the daughter of one of our senior partners."

Della certainly wasn't in love with Stephen... but how could he still be seeing her if he was serious enough about another woman to propose?

He didn't stop talking long enough to gauge her reaction. Her agreement was expected simply because it was what he wanted. Switching to 'summation to the jury' mode, he said, "I'll be made a partner, of course, and take on the extra workload that goes with it. There will be social commitments with Alicia as well which will limit the time you and I can be together. We'll find you a new apartment near the office; I'll make up any difference in rent."

"Stephen, stop. I'm not moving and nobody is paying my rent but me. You're getting married; why would we still be seeing each other? In fact, why am I here now?"

He sat next to her, his smile ingratiating. "I like you, Della. I don't want to stop seeing you. As I said about the rent, I'll take care of you." He laid his hand on her knee, squeezing lightly.

Shoving his hand away, Della leapt to her feet. She moved to the other side of the room, not really believing the turn the evening had taken. Their relationship had never gone beyond a few heavy petting sessions, and now he expected her to be his mistress? Della felt cheap even though she hadn't done anything wrong. "Stephen, it's beyond insulting that you think I would ever agree to such an arrangement. I don't want to be taken care of, not by you or anybody else. And even if I did, I would prefer to be taken care of by a man who's married to me, not to another woman."

"Della, let me explain." He rose and moved toward her but she backed away.

"Explain what? You get to be the shining son-in-law of a senior partner; I get to be the dirty little secret you see when you don't have a social commitment with your wife. Isn't that the gist of your plan?"

"It doesn't have to be like that."

"Then you'll be the first man in the history of the world to figure out how to make it not 'be like that'," she snapped. "You can just find somebody else to be named as co-respondent when Alicia Mead wises up."

"Damn it, Della, stop being naïve. This is a perfectly workable situation for both of us."

"For a lawyer, you have a surprisingly limited grasp of the English language," she sneered. "It's not naiveté, it's self-respect. You think I'm good enough to sleep with but not good enough to marry. Well, I happen to think you're not good enough for either."

"It's not that, Della," he countered, his face flushing at the unanticipated insults. "Alicia has excellent professional and social connections."

"She also has excellent taste in suits," Della said, making the connection to her earlier thoughts about the addition to his wardrobe, "too bad she doesn't have the same talent for choosing the men who wear them. Tell me, Stephen, exactly where did 'line up mistress' fall on your life plan's to-do list?"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you. Besides, Alicia knows how things are; her father has had a mistress for years."

'And he's calling me naïve,' Della thought, rolling her eyes. "I seriously doubt Alicia knows anything about her father's mistress, and no matter how he runs his private life, it's quite likely that Mr. Mead will take a very different view of you cheating on his daughter." She shook her head. "Why am I trying to convince you you're wrong? In fact, why am I still here?" Turning on her heel she started toward the small table by the door where her purse and gloves lay.

Stephen stepped in front of her and caught her left arm.

"Let me go!" she ordered.

"Why won't you just listen to me?" His voice rose angrily. "You're being ridiculous. Just calm down and listen to reason."

"You're the one not listening, Stephen. I don't want any part of your arrangement. Cheat on your wife if you want to, but you won't be doing it with me. Let me go."

She tried to pull away and his grip tightened painfully.

Fresh anger surged through her system... and a thread of fear. Drawing her free arm back, she clenched her fist and delivered a right hook that would have made Rocky Marciano proud. She had thought it was silly when Elaine's older brother, Curtis, taught it to them before they left home, but now she was glad. The punch connected solidly, and she felt a sickening crunch she hoped was his nose and not her fingers.

Stephen cried out, his hands flying to his face, blood seeping through his fingers to drip onto his shirt.

Della's first impulse was to leave, but the aggression seemed to drain out of him along with the blood. Ignoring the dull pain in her hand and arm, she went into the kitchen. She found a couple of towels in a drawer, wrapped some ice in one and returned to find him sitting in a chair with his handkerchief pressed to his nose.

"Here." She took the bloody handkerchief from him in exchange for the empty towel. He wiped most of the blood from his face then managed a few ineffective swipes at his ruined shirt before giving up. "Hold this here," she said, positioning the ice pack on his face with more gentleness than he probably deserved, "and tilt your head back." She placed her index finger to the center of his forehead and pressed. He resisted for a moment then dropped his head back with a groan.

His indignance lost a good deal of its force when aimed around the striped kitchen towel. "Why did you hit me?"

"You wouldn't let go, I defended myself. Be glad I didn't use my other option. If I had, you'd still be laying on the floor holding something other than your nose." Della didn't seriously think she could ever use the knee lift move that had been another lesson from Curtis - but then she never thought she would ever use the right hook either.

With the subject of a continuing relationship clearly closed, there was nothing to talk about and an awkward silence settled between them.

After about ten minutes, Della had him lower the ice pack. "I think the bleeding's stopped."

Stephen shoved the soggy, bloody mess into her hands and went to the mirror hanging in the entryway.

Della took the towel into the kitchen, dropped it in the sink and washed her hands. When she returned to the other room, Stephen was cursing softly at the bruises already beginning to form beneath his eyes.

"How the hell am I going to explain this to Alicia?"

"If you can't come up with a story for a simple broken nose, how do you think you're ever going to conceal a mistress from her?" Della sniped. Seeing him flinch as he gingerly assessed the damage, her compassionate nature came to the fore. She wasn't sorry she had defended herself, but she never liked to see anyone in pain. "You should see a doctor about that."

He glared at her in the mirror.

Feeling her consideration fade rapidly, she answered with a 'be that way' shrug and began to gather her things.

"Where are you going?"

"Home, obviously."

"Let me drive you."

"I'll get a cab."

"Della, it's the least I can do," he said with forced generosity.

She bit back the retort that he had already done the least he could do for her. Besides, why should she have to pay for a cab just because he was a jerk? "All right."

"I'll change my shirt then we can go."

He returned in a clean shirt and a sport coat.

Della pulled on her gloves as Stephen followed her down the stairs. The good manners his mother had drummed into him came reflexively to the fore as he reached for her elbow, but her icy look told him that touching her wasn't a good idea.

He opened the car door but just as Della started to get in she turned back to him.

"Stephen, if you truly love Alicia, then marry her. Be happy and forget about having a girlfriend on the side. If it's because she's a senior partner's daughter and has connections, don't do it. She deserves better... and, although I wouldn't have said this twenty minutes ago, so do you."

The sincerity in her words grated on Stephen, and he slammed the car door just a bit harder than necessary once she was inside.

The ride was silent as Stephen concentrated on driving while Della stared out the side window.

She couldn't bring herself to believe her judgment of his character had been so far off the mark. She knew he was a nice guy which made his behavior tonight all the more baffling. What had she missed?

"Hang on!"

Stephen's shout startled her and Della had no time to react before the entire world shifted around her. She heard the squeal of tires as the car skidded.

TBC