Della grabbed her coat off the coat rack and shrugged into the heavy coat she'd worn into the office that morning. She regarded it with confusion as she buttoned it up, wondering why on Earth she owned a coat this heavy living in Los Angeles. Even in the dead of winter the weather almost never warranted more than the occasional raincoat. Still, it was easier to wear it out then carry it out so on it went.
Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she peeked inside and fished for her car keys. She frowned as she realized that her longtime boss and good friend, Perry Mason hadn't even looked up much less readied himself to leave. Most of the time they left together and she couldn't imagine why he was staying late when his most recent court case had been decided in his favor that afternoon.
"Perry?" She asked curiously.
His head snapped up suddenly at the sound of his name. He hadn't realized he'd been so lost in thought. Oh yes, the time… "You go ahead, Della. I have a few things I want to catch up on here."
He gave her his best, most charming smile and desperately hoped it didn't give Della the impression that he was up to no good.
Smiling back, those gorgeous hazel eyes were bright with suspicion and mischief. Who knew what Perry Mason was up to next? She'd learn soon enough, she supposed.
Well alright, chief. Don't stay up too late though."
"I'll certainly try not to. Good night."
Perry waited for the door to close behind his lovely confidential secretary before he took out his writing tablet. It really shouldn't be used for personal reasons, but it was Perry's law firm so he supposed it was his call.
He'd been wracking his brain for the right way to confess his feelings to Della ever since his conversation with Hamilton Burger in the coffee shop that morning. He'd wanted to conjure up something memorable, but several hours later he felt no closer to that. Perhaps he was overthinking it? Perhaps a simple love letter and a bouquet of roses would be sweet and memorable in its simplicity?
The love letter would be challenging all by itself. Perry Mason had mastered drafting and dictating perfect, concise law documents, but love letters were an art form of an entirely different sort. The love letter would make him vulnerable through the expression of his feelings. It would mandate he bear his heart and soul to the object of his affections and leave him at the mercy of her response. Law documents were stone cold and lifeless, devoid of any feeling and reflecting only the letter and spirit of the law.
The sound of Paul's signature knock at the back door to Perry's office halted the lovesick defense attorney's attempt to put the right words to paper. Perry was pretty mellow, but warring feelings of frustration and relief coursed through him at the interruption. He was anxious to get this letter penned and set aside for Della in the morning as she usually beat him to the office, but as he still had no clue what to say, he welcomed the distraction.
"Come in, Paul!" He called, though his voice sounded tired and lifeless.
Paul sauntered in like he owned the place and dropped his tall frame into the chair next to Perry's desk. He pulled out what was probably the fiftieth cigarette that day and lit it with a flourish before noticing how tired his longtime friend looked.
"Rough day in court?"
Perry shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "No, not really. Trying to pen a love letter actually. Not exactly my forte…," his deep voice trailed off distractedly as he stared at his still blank tablet.
"Love letter?!" Paul's blue eyes widened with surprise. "You mean you're finally going to tell Della how you feel about her?"
That woke Perry up a little and he glanced over at Paul. "Hamilton Burger said similar this morning at the coffee shop. Am I really that transparent?"
Perry seemed genuinely surprised to realize so many others had found his feelings for Della obvious. He thought he'd been as enigmatic and stoic about it just as he was in court.
"Well probably not to everyone, but let's face it, Hamilton and I have known you a while. It's hard to miss the way you look at her sometimes."
"It seems she has or she's done very well at pretending not to notice," Perry murmured softly.
"I've love to help you, Perry, but unfortunately, I haven't had too much luck in the romance department myself. I know nothing about penning successful love letters. You might want to ask Hamilton though. According to Helen, her mother has a shoebox full of them from Hamilton from their college years. I love to give Hamilton a hard time about winning in court, but the truth is the man figured out a long time ago how to win in the romance and family department. We can't say that for us so I won't mock him for knowing how to write love letters even though it does seem pretty old fashioned."
"Thanks, Paul. I'll just have to hope that Della appreciates my old fashioned-ness," Perry quipped good naturedly.
"Oops. Sorry, Perry. I wasn't trying to insult you."
"I know that, Paul. I'm just giving you a hard time, but I should really get to finishing it so I can get home at a decent hour. I still don't know what to say though."
Paul regarded the defense lawyer for a moment. "The truth, Perry. You're good at getting to that."