Author's Note: Tessa, Angela's secretary from 'Two Lives' (chapter 26), returns in this chapter. Flashbacks are in italics.

18

The weeks following Tony's and Angela's wedding passed by without any major events. Tony taught his classes, Angela managed her agency, and Mona played hooky whenever possible. Sam lead her life in New York, Jonathan, Emily and Alex continued to align their daily agendas, and Lynnie went back to school, telling everybody that she had two mothers now. She didn't like the word 'stepmother' because it made her think of all the wicked stepmothers in the fairy tales she had listened to as a kid: Hansel & Gretel's stepmother, Rapunzel's stepmother, and most of all, Cinderella's stepmother who tried to poison her stepdaughter to remain the fairest in the land. Angela was nothing like that. She was a kind, nurturing, caring and selfless stepmother, so whenever she spoke about Angela she called her 'my other mother', 'my father's new wife' or 'the woman who is like a mother to me'. She would never call her 'Mom' though. That expression was tied to Kathleen for some reason, although it implied a much closer mother-daughter-relationship than there really was.

But Lynnie and Kathleen were on the right track. Kathleen had given up her defensive attitude in therapy and had started to really cooperate. She wanted to work things out with her daughter and had kept her promise so far not to interfere with Tony's and Angela's lives anymore. Maybe that was the reason why Lynnie stuck to calling Kathleen 'Mom': she was hoping they could eventually rebuild a relationship which brought them so close that Kathleen deserved being spoken to in this familiar form. Maybe they would return to being a family; one big, colorful, motley patchwork family.

Today was the last Friday of the month. A day Angela had been looking forward to since four weeks.

Ever since Tony had married Kathleen, the last Friday of the month was marked in Angela's calendar, telling her secretary she had private plans for lunch which had to be obeyed in all circumstances. The recurring appointment was sacred to her, the times she had canceled it within the last 16 years could be counted by the fingers of one hand. After her breakdown, for example, she hadn't been able to go two times in a row. There had been an advertising convention once, where she had been the keynote speaker and her attendance compulsory. At another time, a very touchy client, whose account the agency had needed badly, had demanded her to be present at a short-term meeting to discuss the agency's latest campaign storyboards on a Friday. But that had been it; on all other occasions, Angela had moved heaven and hell to be able to attend her private lunch meetings on the last Friday of the month, because the person she met was Sam.

She loved Sam like she would love her own daughter. And when Tony had left, which in a way had felt as if he had divorced her, Angela had been afraid to lose Sam as well. So she had made that plan to meet her regularly for lunch and had followed that plan consistently, like she followed all of her life plans consistently. Sam had also done her very best not to break their appointments. Even when she had been busy with studying for an exam, she had preferred to spend the whole night at the library to canceling her lunch with Angela. Once, she had been invited to a job interview she hadn't been able to reschedule, and when she had been on an oceanographic expedition they hadn't seen each other for three months. But other than these few times, Sam had always been there.

Like this, Sam and Angela had stayed in touch, and it had done both of them good. Like this, they had saved at least some of what it had been like when things had still been in good order at 3344 Oak Hills Drive in the pre-Kathleen years.

What they had never done though was reminiscing about the past or about what they had lost. They had always talked about their current lives, about their plans, hopes, and dreams. Never ever had Angela asked Sam about Tony, and Sam had been thankful for not being torn between them. Just as Angela had felt like a divorcée, Sam had felt like a child of divorce after Tony had left Fairfield. Angela had remained Sam's confidante and the girl had appreciated it a lot, for it had shown her that Angela's assertions throughout the years, that she was like a daughter to her, had not been hollow phrases but nothing but the truth. Not that she had ever really assumed they weren't.

Even after Tony had come back into Angela's life, even after they had become a couple and family events with Mona, Jonathan and Lynnie had been on the agenda regularly, Sam and Angela had held on to their last-Friday-of-the-month lunches because they both enjoyed their one-on-one talks so much. Hence, Angela had been in a good mood the entire morning, had made it through the Friday morning jour fixe with her administrative staff, had given several clients a call, and had hired a new promising art director, until she finally took the glasses off her nose and told her secretary, "I'll be out for lunch, Tessa."

Tessa was still working for her. Angela had never had a secretary that had stayed that long. Not even Mona, as she had been promoted within Bower Advertising to Head of Client Liaison after a couple of years.

When she had started dating Tony, Angela had tried to keep it a secret from her office staff at first. And she had managed to do so for quite some time; only Tessa had always been suspicious from the day Tony had first shown up in front of her desk - suspicious and nosy. And that Jack obviously knew more than she hadn't helped a bit. One day, she had been standing in front of Angela's desk with a bouquet of pink roses in her hand and had decided to be clear about the recent changes in her boss's life.

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"Angela, someone has sent you flowers," the young woman said matter-of-factly.

"Oh!" was Angela's only response. She even blushed a little.

"Who's sending you pink roses? Are you seeing someone?"

"I beg your pardon?" Angela was a bit annoyed by her secretary's demanding attitude. Who was she to interrogate her like this about her private life?

"Come on, Angela! I'm your personal secretary, not some remote receptionist. Personal! Nobody's closer to you here in the office than I am." Throwing her a conspirational wink she added, "I can be good for you!"

"And how is that?"

"I can keep your schedule clear on certain days, I can book secluded tables for two for lunch, I can lie for you on the phone when you want to play hooky, I can fetch your dress from the dry cleaner so that you can change before you leave for a date, aaaaand...I can get a vase for this nice little bouquet. It must be someone special who's giving you those."

"Someone special?"

"Yes, someone special! They're pink! You love pink roses. All the guys who have sent flowers before went for huge bouquets of long-stemmed, extravagant and expensive red roses. They were trying to impress you. This someone here knows that pink roses are your favorite, which is something only a few people know about you, including me, of course! He - I assume it's a he - isn't trying to impress you but simply wants to make you smile. He's showing you he knows you well and cares for you!"

"I never knew that psychology was taught at secretarial school," Angela muttered to herself.

Tessa only smiled about Angela's remark and continued, "Come on, Angela! I know that there's something going on lately. And Jack wouldn't tell me anything although I'm pretty sure he knows more than he admits."

"How can you tell something is going on?"

"All of a sudden it's me who has to unlock the office door in the morning, whereas you used to do that for the last three years. And you leave Fridays at four! You stay at your house in Fairfield most of the time and not in your apartment downtown anymore. And," she made a dramatic break, "I caught you daydreaming at your desk!" Tessa shook her head and narrowed her eyes as if especially what she had said last was so much out of the ordinary and surprising that it was the final indication in her chain of proof. "Who is it?" she finally demanded to know. "This mysterious Mr. Micelli who showed up here and pledged with me to see you?"

"Mr. Micelli is not mysterious!"

"He is! He comes here, looks at me like a puppy, you receive him without a scheduled appointment and take the afternoon off although you are about to meet Madame Pechet! You've never missed an appointment with her before! And what I haven't told you is that Madame Pechet had looked at me smitten with surprise after Jack had dropped the name Micelli. How come she knows him?"

Angela thought back to the night she had asked Tony to be Geneviève Pechet's escort to a reception at the embassy just for the sake of a big account Pechet Fragrances had been about to assign. She had been willing to risk that account just to preserve Tony's dignity. She didn't tell Tessa anything about the peculiar talk they had been having at Geneviève's hotel room, when the French woman had told them point black that there was 'une affaire du cœur' going on between them. Instead, she decided to give her only a vague explanation of what kind of role Tony had been playing in her life.

"Mr. Micelli and I know each other for many years but haven't seen each other for a long time. A few weeks ago, out of the blue, he paid me a courtesy visit. He...uh...used to work for me."

"I see, that's why you couldn't be together back then! You're far too classy to get involved with one of your office employees. But now you can! He doesn't work for you any longer, does he?"

"No, he doesn't."

Neither did Angela wise her up that Tony had never been a member of her office staff nor that she hadn't felt too classy to get involved with this particular employee. Sooner or later she would find out how Tony had earned his money back then. Apart from Jack, there was a handful of employees who had already been with The Bower Agency when he had been running her private household, and not all of them would be as discreet as Jack.

"He's a hunk, Angela! Please tell me you're dating him!"

Angela asked herself whether Tessa was only up to some gossip she could spread among her colleagues later, but then she realized that the woman was really compassionate and her pledges sincere. So she looked down at her hands and finally admitted to her secretary that her hunches had been right all the way, that the flowers had indeed been sent by Tony, that he was the only man in her life attentive enough to realize that pink roses were her favorite, and that they were a couple since recently.

In a gushing sign of joy, Tessa flung her arms around her boss's neck and screamed, "Oh that's wonderful, Angela! I am so happy for you!"

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That had been more than ten years ago and had connected Tessa so close to Angela and her agency that she had stayed ever since. She had never been so persistent before. Usually, she quit at the latest when her boss started making overtures, and it had always happened in the past. Tessa was young and attractive, and all her previous bosses had been elder married men not averse to plunging into a little office affair with the secretary. Angela was her first female boss, and Tessa appreciated it a lot. She admired Angela's will-power and stamina, for she knew that on her way up to the top she had often faced the same type of man; men who thought that a woman would go to bed with anyone who promised to boost her career. But Angela wasn't that kind of a woman, and neither was Tessa.

Tessa felt attached to The Bower Agency, especially after Angela had confided in her about Tony. And she had never really seen a reason why she should start looking for a new job. So she had stayed year after year, not to her disadvantage though. Angela had promoted her whenever possible, had sent her to professional training and had delegated evermore responsibility to her. Her job title now was that of an Executive Assistant to the CEO and she was managing Angela's entire office, having a secretary at her own disposal. She no longer only took telephone calls for her boss and made appointments, but organized her entire agenda, went with her to board meetings and supported her with working on the business strategy. It was the best job Tessa ever had, and the trustful relationship she had to her boss made working a pleasure.

Tessa had also always known that Angela's Friday lunches were very special to her. At first, she had thought Angela was secretly meeting a man, but she had quickly brushed the thought aside. Angela had always come back from these lunches in a good mood but not exhilarated enough to have met someone she had been in love with. It had taken Tessa several months until she had found out that she was taking a young woman out for lunch, but for years she hadn't gotten a clue who this woman was, not even a name. Not until one day this woman had stood in front of her desk a few weeks after Angela had confided in her about her relationship with Tony.

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"Hello, my name is Samantha Micelli. I'd like to see Ms. Bower, please," the young woman said.

Tessa's heart skipped a beat because the first thought coming to her mind was that this must be Mr. Micelli's jealous wife - very young and pretty wife - wanting to have an argument with Angela. Poor Angela, captured in a love triangle with a rival almost half her age. But then again the woman looked at her in such a friendly way that she discarded her first idea and switched on the business mode.

"Welcome to Bower Advertising, Mrs. Micelli. My name is Tessa, I'm Ms. Bower's personal secretary. Please have a seat, I'm going to tell her you're here."

"Thank you very much, Tessa, but it's Miss Micelli."

'Miss', Tessa acknowledged contently, 'not his wife or ex-wife. His baby sister?' Tessa didn't need to rack her brain for very long because once Angela had opened her office door, Miss Samantha Micelli smiled at her and embraced her tightly. There was no hostility between them whatsoever but only kindness and warmth. Tessa felt a sense of relief.

"Hi Angela, how's Dad? He sounded awful on the phone last night. I bet he kept you busy with looking after him. He's such a bad patient when he has a cold," Miss Micelli asked.

"Well, I made him one of the ancient Italian remedies he always made me drink when I had a cold," Angela answered with a grin.

They were on such cordial terms, like family almost. Tessa didn't even have to eavesdrop, they were having this conversation about Angela's boyfriend right in front of her desk, but it didn't make any sense to her.

Eventually, Angela introduced Sam as Tony's daughter and the mystery was solved. Another wave of relief overwhelmed Tessa. She would've felt terribly sorry for Angela if her recent bliss had been overshadowed by a complicated triangle relationship. There was only one question popping in Tessa's mind, and you could literally see a huge question mark hovering above her head as if she were a animated cartoon character: Why had Angela been so closely connected to her boyfriend's daughter for years although she hadn't been in touch with him? Tony Micelli must've been more than simply a former employee and Micelli was mysterious, no doubt about it.

"It was nice meeting you, Tessa," Sam said politely on her way out.

"Nice meeting you too, Miss Micelli," Tessa replied equally politely but already deeply in thought about how to get answers for the new riddle.

"Come on, Sweetheart. I found us a nice little new restaurant not very far from here. You'll love it!" Angela turned to her assistant, "See you later, Tessa," then linked arms with Sam and dragged her away from the reception area.

'As if they were mother and daughter,' Tessa thought.

She lifted the receiver off the phone on her desk, dialed a number, and when the person on the other end answered, she purred into the phone like a cat, "Jack! Wanna have lunch with me?"

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Unnecessary to mention that Jack hadn't told her anything. Having lunch with him and trying to charm him for some classified information about Tony Micelli had been completely for naught. He had been as secretive as if she had asked him for the launching codes of a nuclear weapon. And even now, ten years later, after having talked to Tony million of times, after having seen him picking Angela up for a date from the office millions of times, after having asked every colleague who knew him from the time he had been Angela's employee, their former relationship still remained a mystery to Tessa.

But she had come to terms with not knowing the whole story of Tony and Angela. As long as her boss was happy, and it was quite obvious she was, even more so now that she was Mrs. Tony Micelli, Tessa was happy too.

"Miss Micelli is not going to pick you up today?" Tessa asked Angela who was standing in front of her assistant's desk to give her notice of her departure for the last-Friday-of-the-month lunch date with Sam.

"No. We meet at the restaurant."

"And you'll be away for how long, Angela? You have an appointment at 3:30 with Florence Randall, the young journalist who works on an article about women in executive positions," she reminded her.

"Ah, right. If I'm not back by three, give me a call."

Angela knew how time flew by when she was having lunch with Sam. There had been days they had so much to talk about that they had transitioned from having lunch to having dinner without even realizing it.

"I will," Tessa replied, already browsing through Angela's contact list to look for Florence Randall's phone number.

"May I help you, Ma'am?" the young waitress behind the counter of a new and trendy restaurant called "Lisbon" asked Angela.

"Yes. I made a reservation for two under the name of Bower...uh, I mean Micelli. Under the name of Micelli!" Angela giggled.

"Angela, you still make a slip with you former last name?" Sam was a bit surprised. She thought that someone who had longed to be called Mrs. Micelli for such a long time would never again accidentally forget to use that name.

The waitress frowned shortly, then she shrugged and asked Angela and Sam to follow her. It was a tiny place with only a few tables and an open kitchen. Angela had heard about it from one of her employees. He had been enthusiastic about the Portuguese chef who was well-known for his Mediterranean influenced cuisine.

After they had ordered their food and drinks, Angela came back to what Samantha had just asked her about.

"It happens once in a while that I forget I'm Mrs. Micelli now. Sometimes I don't even realize when someone erroneously calls me Bower. Look, Sam, I bore this name for almost 30 years, it's not so easy to shed it like an old coat."

"Isn't it weird to change your last name? It's your third by now," Sam noted.

"You're right. It was easier to switch from Robinson to Bower. My teenage years weren't the happiest years of my life, and I was thrilled to get married to Michael, so I could hardly wait to change my name into Bower. We weren't even engaged yet and I already practiced my new signature." She chuckled. "It's a bit different this time. The name Bower is connected to a lot of things that are very important to me. Not my ex-husband, obviously, but my son and my agency. I became the person I am today being Angela Bower. That name is a huge part of my identity. I still have to find out who Angela Micelli is."

"What do you mean who she is? Don't you like her?"

"Of course I do! She's Tony's wife. Well, I am! But I'm also Jonathan's mother and the person who christened the agency."

"But not because of your last name, Angela. You're Jonathan's mother because you gave birth to him, you nurtured and raised him. And your company is called after you because you're a very talented, determined and successful business woman."

"Thank you, Sam." Angela looked deeply into her eyes, "I don't want you to think that I don't love the name Micelli. It's a wonderful name, and I feel so proud to be allowed to bear it. And I know that the person bearing it before me was your mother, Sam. But I'm not trying to replace her, I hope you know that!"

They had never really talked about how Sam would feel if her father married again. Sam belonged to the circle of people who had wished for Tony and her to become a couple, of that much Angela was sure, but they had never touched the question of what it would do to her if a woman other than her mother was Mrs. Anthony Micelli.

"Angela, if there ever was a woman I wanted to be my mother's successor at Dad's side, it was you; not Betty, not Frankie, and most certainly not Kathleen! I bet people think we are mother and daughter, now that we have the same last name."

"We are, Sam!" Angela said with a smile. "We are like mother and daughter. If I had a daughter, I would want to have a relationship with her just like the one I'm having with you."

"I know, Angela." Sam smiled back, but then her smile suddenly died away.

Angela sensed instantly that Sam had something on her chest and would've liked to ask her about it. She reached out for her hand, but their meals were being served and Sam pulled her hand back. They ate a moment in silence, but Angela wasn't willing to let Sam go away with it.

"Sam? Is something the matter?"

"No," she replied, "Why are you asking?"

"Samantha! I know you like the back of my hand. You've come to me to pour your heart out many times. I can see it in your face. There's a sadness in your eyes. Tell me! What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, really," Sam said, putting the fork to her mouth. "Mmmm, this swordfish is wonderful."

But Angela's attention couldn't be diverted so easily. "Don't take me for a fool, Sam! Come on, it's me! You can tell me anything. It'll make you feel better."

Angela's soft-spoken words finally convinced Sam. She put her cutlery down, wiped her mouth with a napkin, took a sip of wine, inhaled deeply, and then looked at Angela.

"You're right. I am a little sad. No, 'sad' is not the right word, I'm not happy. Somehow...dissatisfied."

"Dissatisfied?"

"Yes. With my life."

"Why should you be dissatisfied with your life? You're young and healthy. You're pretty. You have a wonderful job, traveling around the world to explore the ocean. You have a family that loves you."

"A family that loves me, yep, that I have."

Angela squinnied. She could hardly ignore the sarcastic undertone in Sam's voice. "Honey, I'm afraid I don't understand."

"How could you, Angela? You're on cloud nine! You have everything: a beautiful house, a successful career, a family that loves you, and-" She stopped abruptly and bit her lip.

"And?"

"A man who adores you." Sam's voice was hoarse, and she spoke that last sentence in a way that hurt Angela. It sounded derogatory and envious.

"Oh, okay," Angela swallowed hard. "What's wrong with that?" Until now and especially in the light of her prior assertions, she had believed that Sam was happy for her, but what she had just said, and even more the way she had said it, sounded as if she begrudged her her marital bliss.

"There's nothing wrong with it, but it's easy for you to say that I should be content with my life. You don't know how hard it is to see couples in love everywhere when you're the only one being single. All my friends are in serious relationships or married with children. Then there's you and Dad, happily married, drooling over each other all the time. Mona, at her age, is still dating regularly. And now even Jonathan, the dweeb, is having a gorgeous girlfriend and almost-son! It's only me who is alone. There's nobody drooling over me, and I wonder whether there ever will be. I've never had a serious relationship in my life, Angela! I mean really serious. With someone who wanted to settle down with me, get married and have children. I've had boyfriends, yes, but none of them obviously saw in me the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Maybe I'm not that kind of a woman," she concluded crestfallen. "I'm not a woman men seriously fall in love with."

"Oh, Sam. Don't be so hard on yourself. True love takes a lot of time."

"You were already married at my age, Angela, and had a baby. So don't tell me I'm too young for true love."

"You're right, I was married at your age and a mother, but I also was about to be divorced and a single parent. Michael wasn't my true love, Sam, although back then I thought he was. And I do know how hard it is to long for being loved and desired by a man. I hadn't been in a single serious relationship after Michael until I started dating your father. Not that I hadn't been looking, but I simply couldn't find the right guy."

"Weren't you serious with Geoffrey?"

Angela coughed and cleared her throat. She still marveled about her relationship with Geoffrey Wells, the man she had met at Paul and Isabelle's wedding and would've almost married if Tony hadn't kept her from accepting his proposal. "Uh, well...no! I've never really been into that relationship. I missed being with someone so much that I thought I could fall in love with him if only I tried hard enough. And I did. I mean I tried, but I didn't fall in love."

"And you hadn't been with anyone while Dad was married to Kathleen?"

"Well, I had a few dates, but I wasn't in the condition to put a risk on my heart to be broken again."

"He really broke your heart, didn't he?" It was clear who Sam meant.

"Yes," Angela whispered. Tony had broken her heart with dating another woman, sleeping with her, knocking her up, marrying her, but he had shattered her whole world with calling off their friendship and burning the bridges behind him. "He was the second man I loved with all my heart who left me. Believe me, I also felt undesirable and unlovable at the time." 'That was why I slept with my ex-husband,' she thought but didn't voice.

Sam picked at her food which was cold by now. "But your true love came back, and now you're happily married."

"And you will find your true love too, Sam! Just be patient and the perfect guy will come along when you least expect it. I sure didn't expect to find my dream prince when I was hiring a housekeeper."

"But I want to have children, Angela! I'm in my mid-thirties. Time is running out."

"Honey, don't put yourself under so much pressure! You still have plenty of time. Your perfect match is out there somewhere, you only haven't met him yet."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Every Jack has his Jill, Sam," Angela grabbed her hand and squeezed it, "If I managed to get myself such a wonderful man like your father, you will be able to do the same. You're an enchanting person. You're kind, warm and gentle. You're a beautiful and smart young woman. Give yourself time. Be open and let your true love find you."

"I guess I don't have any other option," Sam concluded but didn't sound too convinced.

Angela looked at her stepdaughter. She couldn't believe that Sam was so self-conscious about herself. As a teenager, she had belonged to the cool kids, had burst with self-confidence. Angela had been the complete opposite in her teenage years and still in her early adulthood. She had always felt awkward among her peers, especially the male part. That Sam was so much assailed by doubts about herself gave Angela pain. She tried to think of something to make her feel better, and although she knew that it would only temporarily fix things, she knew exactly what to say.

"Have you ever had these Portuguese tartlets? They're called 'Pastel de Nata' and they taste wonderfully rich and creamy. You haven't eaten anything of your fish, you must still be starving. And when we're done here, we stop by Bloomingdale's. They're having a sale!"

"You really know how to dispel a woman's melancholic mood."

"Believe me, Honey, it has always worked for me!" Angela looked at Sam and both started to smile.

When the waiter approached them to clear the table, he was baffled when he saw Sam's full plate. "Was something wrong with your fish, Senhora?"

"Oh no, it was delicious," Sam answered.

'Then I wonder how much she eats when it's not,' the waiter asked himself. 'That poor fish has died in vain.'

Then he turned to Angela and his gastronomer's heart leaped for joy. Angela's plate was empty and looked as if she had licked the entire sauce from it, which of course she hadn't; she had wiped the last drops of the delicious liquid off the plate with a piece of bread. If she liked a dish, she wouldn't waste anything of it. How she remained so slender although she was such a good eater remained her secret. Maybe Mother Nature reimbursed her for her youth when only looking at a chocolate bar had already made her gain a pound.

"Is there a particular garment you want? A dress or a nice blouse? The feeling of silk on my skin has always soothed my nerves."

Sam had a look at Angela and said, "I really appreciate it, Angela, but you don't have to buy anything for me."

"But I want to. Please, Sam, let me do this for you. It lightens up my mood too!"

"You'll miss your appointment with the journalist," Sam pointed out.

"Oh, right. Well, I'll ask Tessa to reschedule. You're more important to me than a journalist."

Sam was very touched and smiled. "Thank you, Angela. I love you."

"I love you too, Sam," Angela answered with watery eyes. But before she could get too emotional and the moment too tawdry, the waiter appeared again out of nowhere.

"Senhoras, would anyone of you care for a dessert?" he asked. "We're known for our Pastels de Nata. They taste as if they were brought here right from Lisbon."

"You bet! I wouldn't leave your restaurant without it," Angela assured in pleasant anticipation.

"What about you?" he threw Sam a questioning glance.

"I hear they are very good."

"They're heavenly. It's soul food," the waiter assured.

"Soul food? Good, that I definitely need!"