Preamble Binds

by JazzyGirlFriday

After five years Jo Polniaczek returns to New York City and Blair Warner suddenly finds herself in a newly appointed corporate position. Relationships change over time...so do hearts. Jo and Blair are suddenly thrust into a tumultuous journey in learning about what they want in life and love.

7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for hanging in there with me after a brief hiatus. I'm back and ready to see where our ladies take us on their journey.

Just some brief chapter notes:

1.) Madison's Restaurant is totally made up for this piece.

2.) Westerfield Park...maybe somewhere there's a Westerfield Park, but for the sake of this story, it's made up too.

3.) Villa Manzi Gallery. I have no idea if there is a gallery out there with this name, but I totally made this up.

4.) Grammerson Playhouse Theater - a fictitious place somewhere in the NYC theater district. Yep. Fake, lol.

As always, I appreciate you, your patience and your feedback. It really keeps me going.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Daybreak. Nightfall. They both virtually look the same if you're not paying attention to the clock.

Long white bands of steam slowly curled upwards from the rooftops of the gray buildings. The air barely stirred so early in the morning as Blair stood in front of the penthouse windows. Her white silk bed robe was tied tightly around her waist. There was a sigh. Brown eyes gazed at nothing in particular. It was something she often did when her mind was busy. When she needed to think about her next strategy or to figure things out.

When she couldn't sleep.

She took a sip from a steaming cup of tea, flicking disheveled hair from her eyes every now and then.

There was rustling from the kitchen as Gigi's clawed feet clacked on the tiled floor. She was looking for Blair. "Yip, yip!" Blair cracked a smile before she picked up the small dog. She had just been groomed the day before, her shiny coat getting a good fluffing from her mistress. That earned several satisfied whines as Gigi licked high cheekbones and a chin appreciatively.

Blair giggled at the attention, then set the dog down; holding Gig's front legs as she walked along the floor on her hind legs. "That's a good girl, good girl, Gigi!" A pink tongue lapped out, wagging at the effort. "Yip! Yop! Yop! Yip!"

Blair released the front paws as Gigi balanced on her hind legs – looking like a show dog. She laughed, then clapped as Gigi barked with each step; finally getting tired as she reached the edge of the windows.

Bending down, Blair picked up her prize pet and hugged her; rubbing her nose in the soft fur. She hummed contentedly hearing the soft pants of the tired dog. "Good girrrl."

"Blair?"

Blair turned before releasing Gigi, who scampered off down the hall to her little room.

She glanced up into sleepy eyes. "Did I wake you?"

The brunette shook her head, making her way over to Blair. Amanda made a quick examination of the blonde. Last night she'd fallen into bed fast asleep before her head even hit the pillow, then up hours later before the crack of dawn.

"Are you alright?"

Blair nodded. "Thank you for dinner. I hadn't even thought about eating." She admitted.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind. Being president carried a weight Blair hadn't figured into her personal plan of reign… not that she had an iron clad one to begin with; just one that didn't include a multitude of problems from the very start.

She thought about her predicament: two burned down warehouses, unaccounted for, an obstinate cousin out to ruin her career and an unwanted project.

She sniffed indifferently. She had overheard the quiet conversations. The critical jabs about her ability to 'carry' the company. The sly remarks about her age and the fact that she was practically handed her position. Those things don't matter, you're a Warner – her father had reminded her for the thousandth time.

And then there was her personal life.

She took in the dark haired woman before her. Her makeup was pretty much all gone; hair disheveled and all over her head. Eyes squinting and slowly focusing at the gradually brightening room as the sun started to peak over the edges of the buildings. She was wearing one of Cliff's old tee-shirts; the bottom of it barely covering the tops of her thighs. She still looks pretty.

Blair sighed and gave Amanda a thoughtful smile. "Thank you for staying, you didn't have to." Whispered softly, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Amanda reached out and laid a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder, gently massaging the muscle she found there. "I wanted to."

Blair smiled and patted the hand. She moved out of the embrace then made her way to the kitchen, failing to notice the questioning expression of her companion.

"Is it something I said?" Amanda sat in one of the chairs at the counter.

"Hmm?" Blair washed her cup out and set it on the counter top.

"Blair, what's wrong?"

A brow dipped slightly. Blair approached Amanda, leaning on the counter. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You just seemed a little… off last night." Amanda tried not to let her words unsettle the blonde. She smiled to diffuse the impact.

"I see." Blair twisted her lips.

"I meant, not yourself."

Blair paused, not quite knowing how to answer. She numbly nodded and moved her focus to the rapidly brightening view outside. She watched as the creeping sun found the crevices of each building's sharp angles and flat planes.

"What's wrong?" Concern filtered through Amanda's voice.

"Nothing." Blair moved her eyes to meet Amanda's.

"Nothing?"

"I'm fine Amanda. Just… a little overwhelmed." That much she felt comfortable admitting.

Amanda sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. Finally. "You were obviously bothered by something last night." She watched as Blair eyed her with trepidation.

"How could you tell?"

Amanda reached over to one of the two empty wine bottles they'd finished and set on the counter. She grabbed it and turned it upside down; tiny drops making their way to the counter top.

Blair lifted a discomfited brow. "Oh."

Amanda set the bottle up right. "Thanks for at least letting me have one glass all to myself. I don't think I've ever seen you drink so much in one sitting."

Blair nodded then lifted her hands. Letting them drop; she gave Amanda a weak smile. "I have to go in early."

She turned and made her way down the hall to her bedroom, sensing the brunette following. Blair padded her way across the room as Amanda leaned on the doorframe. She watched as Blair opened the doors to her enormous walk in closet, noticing the almost obscene amount of shoes on display.

"You never answered my question."

Blair grabbed a tan suit and white blouse from her racks. Turning, she met questioning eyes. She threw the clothing on her bed and sighed. "I got the papers yesterday."

Amanda pushed off from the doorframe. "Papers?"

A nod. "Cliff." Blair watched as concerned eyes approached her apprehensively.

"Hmm…" Amanda nodded.

"I asked Meg to send them to me as soon as they came to the mansion. So she walks in with this envelope and all I could think was… this is it."

"Did you talk to him?"

Blair paused, feeling anguished. "Yes, it was… sad."

"I'm sorry." The brunette moved closer.

"He just brushed it off like it was no big deal, and God… I just felt so bad." Blair shook her head. "If I could just go back, I…"

"Blair." Amanda kept her voice soft. "It's over. Let's just put it in the past where it belongs."

Blair took in the woman before her. She was sincere and open and… wonderful. She cracked a small, lopsided grin. "You're right. "

Feeling empathetic, Amanda gently captured the blonde around the waist; bringing her close. "But, wow, perfect timing, huh? Your first day on the job and all." She gently consoled, sensing the need to diffuse some tension.

Blair turned around, placing her back to Amanda, and letting her head fall back a little.

"God, my job…"

Amanda lightly rested her chin on Blair's shoulder. "Well, you are the newly appointed President."

Blair rolled weary eyes. "Don't remind me."

Amanda hummed as she silently gauged the blonde's temperament. She had talked incessantly about the board meeting last night while drinking glass after glass of champagne. "Something else bothering you?"

Blair felt the tiny, gentle circles being drawn on her stomach and cracked a smile. "Nooo…"

Amanda muffled a small giggle. "Mmmm… you like that?"

"Very much," came the light, breathy reply.

They stayed like that for a minute; swaying a little in the middle of the room. Blair let her mind drift, not really intent on focusing on anything but the feelings going through her at the moment.

"Blair?"

It was said so softly she'd barely heard it. "Yes?"

"Why won't you kiss me?"

The blonde went still. She'd thought briefly about pretending not to hear the question. "I…"

"Not ready yet?" I know. Amanda nodded.

Blair shook her head, keeping her back to Amanda. "It's not that. I just wanted to wait until…" She let it linger. "I, um..."

"The divorce was final," Amanda's voice tinged with cynicism.

Blair nodded, "Yes. Well, I, I didn't want to rush into anything."

That sounded insincere, and Amanda filed the feeling of heavy disappointment away, for now. "We've known each other for what… six months?"

A nod.

"And we decided to start dating about two weeks ago."

"Casually." Blair pointed out, her voice rather strong there.

Amanda bit the inside of her lip, nodding begrudgingly. "Yes, casually."

She loosened her arms around Blair, allowing her to turn around and face her. "The divorce was final yesterday." She said pointedly, capturing hesitant brown eyes.

"I know," came the soft reply.

Amanda studied her for a moment. "So what's stopping you?" She quirked her mouth, half teasing, half serious.

Blair started to answer. Eyes flicked to the soft lips in front of her as she licked her own lips nervously.

Amanda watched carefully. She tried to keep her face neutral, but Blair's lack of a response was telling.

"Oh, wait, that's right… your newly appointed job as President. Is she the mistress I should be worried about?" A sarcastic smirk crossed her features.

Blair took a step back. "Amanda."

Amanda lifted a brow; a bit self satisfied she'd stirred the executive's ire a little. "Ah, what… I don't' get extra points for guessing correctly?" she lightly teased.

Blair let out a sigh. "I don't have time for this." She turned, heading for the bed.

"Blair." Amanda rolled her eyes, a feeling of regret washing over her. She watched as Blair smoothed out her skirt, then forcefully snapped it in the air; doing the same with her blouse. "I'm sorry, ok?"

Blair laid the blouse down on the bed not meeting the eyes of her companion. She tilted her head in thought. Truth was she wasn't looking forward to starting the rat race today at all. She looked at Amanda who was patiently waiting for her to respond.

"It's just going to be a hectic week, and I'm not looking forward to it."

"I can understand. You have to prove yourself," Amanda sat down on the bed. It was still disheveled from the night before.

Blair ran a hand through her hair. "It's not enough I have to prove myself. I have to troubleshoot and figure out how to get over major hurdles and babysit and…and."

"Whoa, babysit?"Amanda chuckled.

"Yeah. God, can you believe that?" Blair gave her an incredulous look.

Amanda fell silent for a moment in thought. "Not really." Her brows knit. "Do you mean an actual baby we're talking about here or…"

"Stop teasing. Really? You'd think that?" Blair eyed her then let out a laugh.

Amanda shrugged. "Well, you said babysit. I can't imagine what the president of a major corporation would be doing babysitting, what… clients?"

An eye roll. "I wish. Probably would be easier." Though not by much.

Amanda watched as Blair went back into her closet then quickly returned with a pair of heels that complimented her outfit. "Tough customer?"

Blair dropped the shoes. "Stubborn, infuriating, frustrating…" Hands quickly went to hips, and a bottom lip was nervously bitten.

"I see..."

"And hot headed, Oh God, sooo freaking ill tempered!" Blair flailed an arm.

Amanda absorbed the reaction, pursing her lips. "Sounds like you know this… colleague? Pretty well."

Blair looked up. "She went to school with me, is all." She turned and straightened the bed sheets.

She. Amanda slid off the bed as Blair snapped the covers straight. She stood watching as the pillows were fluffed briskly, Blair beating them into shape.

"Sounds like you two don't get along too well."

Brown eyes glanced up. "We've had our moments." She smoothed out the top comforter.

"The way you just described her, she seems like a real asshole." The tone was almost challenging, and Amanda internally smiled at her own description.

Blair arched a brow. "Hardly."

The brunette nodded. "You have to work with her?"

Blair sighed, sitting down on the bed. "Unfortunately. Some new project Daddy already approved."

Amanda sat down beside her; the mattress bouncing a bit. "Maybe I'll drop by. You know, to make sure she doesn't bother you." She patted the knee she found there.

Blair cast a sideways glance before getting up from the bed. "I can handle her." She tossed back. She picked up a towel from her dresser then opened the top drawer and got out a loofah sponge.

"Ok, then can I come by to get you for lunch?" Amanda walked over to her. "For a well deserved break?" She batted her eyes; her voice had a hopeful quality to it.

"Sure." Blair cracked a smile, charmed by the woman's cute expression.

Amanda clapped her hands happily. "Then it's all set." She smiled brightly.

"All set." Blair returned the smile. She turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

---

Westerfield Park. Beautiful. Cute. Brand spanking new.

It was designed as a complement to the newly renovated apartments in the area. It boasted a vibrant walking trail comprised of an assortment of native plants, trees and flowers. The wonderful smell of year round evergreen trees was a welcomed aroma as patrons moved along the trail enjoying the visual display of foliage.

Muscular legs ran along the sidewalk; the pounding of running shoes beat the pavement, as a steady pace was set.

"C'mon boy." Jo had Ace along side her and was glad his leash was adjustable. She had to stop a few times as he marked his territory… which comprised of peeing on the trees, bushes and flowers.

It was wearing the agent out, and Jo found herself pulling on his leash when he'd taken a special liking to those few patrons who'd mistakenly decided to stop and enjoy the view only to find their leg attacked by free flowing urine or, occasionally, a randy dog trying to have his way with them.

"Knock it off!" Jo had taken to jogging in place as Ace whined then started marking a small tree. Can't take you anywhere.

Her phone buzzed and she unclipped it from the harness she'd strapped on the outside of her jogging leggings. "Polniaczek."

"How'd I know you'd be up already?" Eric's voice piped through her phone.

A heavy sigh. "Ace wouldn't let me sleep in. What's up?"

"What time are you going over to The Warner Building?"

"One thirty." Jo watched as Ace animatedly wagged his tail, digging down with his hind legs in order to throw grass and dirt on his marked territory.

"That's kind of late."

She started jogging again. "Yeah, well I guess Blair's busy in the morning so she has me reporting to her then."

"Can you go over any earlier?"

Jo slowed her steps and thought for a second. "I don't see why not. Any particular reason?"

"The serial number on Russell's computer brought up a service fee."

"Yeah, and? ACE!" She yanked the dog off of an older lady who had been on an early morning walk only to have her leg attacked by the horny dog. Jo gave the startled woman an embarrassed grimace. "I'm really sorry about that, ma'am."

Jo glared at the Jack Russell, his head held down; resigned. He whined then galloped along beside her as they picked the pace back up and made their way down the path.

"The service fees seem to be for the first Friday of every month."

"What are they for?"

"I'm glad you asked, they're for the hard drive."

Jo's breath was slightly labored. "So?... What… Warner was having it wiped? That's not going to be a problem for me." She stated.

"Not wiped, destroyed. Then replaced entirely, every month."

Jo slowed her pace again. "That does pose a problem."

"A problem we need to solve quickly, Jo."

"Understood. When are they coming to change it out?" She wiped at the sweat forming on her forehead.

"Two days from now."

"That soon?"

"That soon. Get in there and get it collected. I have a feeling this is the one that has the information we need."

"Not going to be easy." Jo yanked the leash a bit.

"I know, you told me. Blair has to log you in."

Jo nodded, picking up her pace again. "Yeah, well, she's been too busy for anything more than a two second conversation."

There was silence for a moment. Jo could hear Eric typing on his pad. "You know what you need to do."

That went without question. "Yeah. Create an inferno. This is Blair we're talking about."

A laugh. "What... she's argumentative? Wouldn't have guessed it."

Jo smirked then rounded a corner. "I just need to throw her off her game."

She flexed her calves, her thighs tightening with each step. Her tank top as drenched in sweat; the imprint of her toned abdominals showing through the material.

"Do whatever you have to do, just get the information off of Russell's drive."

"I will. And don't worry, I can handle her."

"Fair enough. Just remember we're up against time here."

"Eric, I know," she panted.

"Alright. Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks." Jo disconnected the call.

This was indeed all about skating a thin line, but ultimately comprised of getting on Blair's bad side; a side she was all too familiar with. Of course, it often worked to her advantage to ruffle Blair's feather's a little. That usually resulted in her being dismissed in one form or another. Jo just hoped her plan didn't backfire and banish her from the mission altogether.

Thin line…very thin. Her lips quirked to a small grin. She loved a good challenge.

They stopped again as Ace barked, cocking a leg up. He only had a few drops left in him to mark the poor dogwood tree. Jo bent down and rubbed his head, earning a few satisfied whines. The energetic dog was panting hard from all the running they'd done.

She stood back up, stretching her legs and looked out over the expanse of the park. Only a couple miles to go, then shower and dress, she told herself. She knew what she had to do. Jo took in a deep breath as a plan started to form in her head.

"C'mon boy, time to hit the grinder."

---

"So you're saying they don't have any leads at all detective Matasuki?" Blair stepped off the executive elevator heading toward her office; her ear sealed against her cell phone.

She listened intently, waiting for the interpreter to relay her question to the detective in Tokyo. She could hear him respond in his native tongue.

"Uh huh." She stopped just outside of her office door. "Please let me know something substantial by the end of the day, I have an executive board I have to answer to and—"

She abruptly stopped talking once she realized the interpreter was trying his best to keep up with her. "Yes, my board needs answers." Another pause. "Yes, today."

The ping of the elevator got Blair's attention. The doors slowly opened to reveal the dark haired agent. She was dressed in a crisp navy blue pantsuit, briefcase in hand.

Blair checked her watch then made a resentful face. "I look forward to that, thank you… arigato." She disconnected the call.

Here we go. Jo nonchalantly walked up to the blonde. "Hey..."

Blair cocked a brow. "What are you doing here? It's nine-thirty."

Jo purposely displayed a casual demeanor. "I thought I'd come in a little early and get started on some things. You know, set up and—"

"I don't have time for this." Blair abruptly entered her office, aware of Jo following close behind her. She rounded her desk. "Our meeting time is one thirty for a reason, Jo. I'd appreciate it if you would abide by my wishes."

Jo sat her briefcase down on the chair in front of Blair's desk. "Blair, c'mon. What's the problem here."

Brown eyes flicked to meet green. "In case you haven't figured it out, I have a company to run." She sat down and turned on the computer.

"I won't stand in your way." Jo made a wide gesture with her arms. "Just let me see some figures and I'm all ready to get the ball rolling." A toothy smile.

Blair gauged the woman in front of her; squinting slightly before voicing a pointed, "No."

Jo's smile wavered. "What do you mean no, Blair." She was starting to sense an in for her plan.

Blair peered up at the brunette; twisting back and forth slightly in her chair. "First of all your desk is out there." She pointed toward her office door.

Jo swung around. "What… In the lobby?"

"At my executive assistant's station… until I find one."

Jo thought for a moment. "Ok, but I still need to see the figures."

"I'll get you a print out, for a more permanent visual." Brown eyes bored into green.

Are we getting smug now? Jo bobbed her head. "How about we just sit right here and look at them together?" She moved then plopped down on the corner of Blair's desk. "That way we won't be wasting paper." A grin.

She watched as the blonde visibly breathed through her nostrils. C'mon. That's it, Blair...

Blair lightly cleared her throat. "How long is this going to take? I have a meeting in twenty minutes."

"Oh," Jo pretended to think for a moment. "Probably an hour or so."

"An hour." Blair begrudgingly got up and made her way to the file cabinet.

Jo nodded. She noticed the computer had been successfully booted and awaited for Blair's prompt to log in. "You can go to your meeting and I'll just hang out here until you get back." She offered.

Blair retrieved a file then slammed the cabinet door, locking it. "You can hang out in the lobby and when I return I'll print out the information you need." A mocking smile. "That way you'll be free to leave at lunchtime - for the rest of the day." She added.

Jo casually watched as Blair put the file in her briefcase, then swiftly move toward the office door without a glance backwards.

Jo blew out a breath. "Blair wait." She moved to join Blair at the door. "Really. What's going on?" It was said gently and Blair spared her a look.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Jo shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. "O-k. I'll speak plainly for you. I've obviously done something that's upset you."

That was met with silence. Jo continued, taking a step closer. "You have yet to even give me a clue as to what that is."

Blair took in a harsh breath. "Alright, fine. I was having a bad day yesterday, Okay? Things weren't quite unfolding the way I'd hoped and I was feeling overwhelmed by it all. The last thing I needed was another project."

Jo crossed her arms. "So you literally and figuratively threw me out on my keister… to prove what exactly?"

Blair paused for a moment then purposefully yanked the door open. "Don't be so touchy." She swiftly moved out into the lobby area.

Green eyes hardened then steeled; and Jo barked out a laugh. "Really. Touchy? Seriously Blair?!" She caught up with the blonde at the elevator.

Blair punched the down button. "Yes… touchy." She turned and looked at her new office mate. Jo's nostrils were flaring, and Blair bit back a self-satisfied grin before it overtook her features.

It was the opening Jo had been waiting for. Her facial features sliding into a mocking glare. "Corporate America be damned. You're still the same spoiled princess you ever were."

Brown eyes held a stunned look. "Don't call me that." Blair's voice was low in register.

Jo shook her head at Blair's audaciousness. "Why not? You humiliated me and you could care less about it." She stepped closer noticing the glint in Blair's eyes. "You don't even feel like you owe me an explanation do you?"

The elevator had arrived, and the doors had been open for a few seconds. Neither of them had noticed until they'd swiftly closed again.

"I've already given you one." Blair turned on her heel and went back into her office.

Jo followed closely behind her. "That explanation doesn't cut it with me, Blair!"

Blair turned suddenly almost knocking into the fuming agent. "Do you want the figures or not?"

"You know what? Right now I'd prefer a better explanation." Green eyes held brown, and Blair blinked at the sudden prowess of the brunette. She took a slight step back, determined to keep her composure.

"Why Jo? Why would you even bother?" She flicked a few strands from her eyes.

"I." Jo started, then frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You've never cared for my opinion or what I think or feel about anything. So why do you care why I threw you out?" Blair crossed her arms tightly. Her look was almost condemning.

"Is that what you really think?" Jo stared a bit confused by the sudden declaration.

"It's what I know, Jo. You look at me and you see what you want to see. Usually that means someone who is nothing but a... princess." A smirk. "How quickly I forget sometimes. We've known each other for several years and you still can't quite get over the fact that I'm rich."

Jo scoffed. "Oh come off it Blair. We got past all that years ago."

Blair held her stance. Her facial features unwavering, daring Jo to explain herself. She sucked in her cheeks and waited.

I hate when she does that. So much. Jo let out a breath. "Is all this because I came out to you?"

Blair barked a small laugh. She caught the sudden, offended look on Jo's face and chose to ignore it.

"There is no deeper meaning Jo, no ulterior motive, no mysterious reason. I simply didn't want this project in the first place." There. Stated calmly.

"Then why didn't you throw out my entire team, huh? Why just me?" Jo questioned.

Blair stood still for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe I did want to make a statement. Is that good enough for you?" She raised a brow.

"No." Jo made an incredulous face. She crossed her arms, mirroring Blair. "No it's not." She managed to give Blair a serious look. "Tell me… exactly what statement would that be, Blair? You have all the power now so you can wield it around as you please?"

Blair scoffed. "I believe I've already answered you."

Jo watched as she moved to stand behind her desk. "You could've talked to me face to face!"

Blair moved a few papers around, flicking through them. "I'm a very busy woman, I was simply saving time." She purposefully ignored the disbelieving look that was thrown her way.

"And wasting mine," Jo added loudly. She watched Blair a few moments. Her lack of acknowledgment was noted - that's what Blair Warner does best.

Time to end this. Jo gave the blonde a long look, taking in her appearance: Designer suit, makeup, perfect. Her hair was freshly trimmed and styled. She had newly manicured fingernails and just the right amount of perfume – not too overbearing.

She lifted her chin confidently. "But what do you expect from someone who's had their whole career handed to them on a silver platter?"

That did it.

Blair ever so slowly lifted her head to meet the dubious eyes of the woman in front of her. She shook her head in disbelief, a scowl curling the corner of her lip.

"I knew it. You're still the same self-righteous, egotistical, stubborn jerk!" she sneered, flicking her eyes over Jo's form. "I should've known; all those years in California didn't change you one bit!"

Jo met her head on. "Well now isn't that interesting, seeing as you've quickly moved up the power ranks recently haven't you, Queen Warner!"

Blair's chest heaved. She tore her eyes from Jo's. "This is going to stop!" She held a hand up. "I've played games with you long enough." She signed onto the computer, the prompts popping up then she clicked into the financial operating spreadsheets - bringing them up one by one.

"Contrary to how you feel about me, I have a company to run so you are going to review these figures and I'm going to my meeting. That's final!"

She all but shouted the last two words before staring down the impossible brunette; then quickly exited the office allowing the door to slam dramatically behind her.

Final.

The door actually rattled. Jo watched until it stopped.

"Jo… you there?"

A brown head nodded timidly, then shook. Tearing her eyes from the door, she quickly moved to sit at Blair's desk, clicking on the screen. She scanned it, and then reached in her pocket taking out a small USB device. She put it in the tower port.

It only took a few seconds. "I'm in Eric, but she might surprise me and come back, so let's make this quick."

"Don't worry she's heading down… I won't even tell you what kind of condition she's in."

A sigh. "Yeah, I know." Jo started typing.

"Let's just say… you'd be in pretty bad shape if you were the inside of that elevator."

She paused. "You just had to tell me that."

Eric could hear the frustration in his agent's voice. "Stay focused."

"Focusing." She typed in a few codes.

"Alright. Let me know when you've completed the 525 so I can get a look."

"Done."

A chuckle. "That was fast."

"I aim to please." Jo half smiled, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "He had this stuff buried six level's deep."

"That's pretty deep. Definitely didn't want it found." Eric brought up a new screen. "Alright I see you."

There were hundreds of spreadsheets concerning undocumented transactions to pour through. "Bingo! Well, well... looks like Warner was a very busy man."

Jo quickly scanned the screen. "I've never seen so many transactions in one day! Look at two weeks ago… starting on the 13th."

"Not good. Let's get it to analytics for a trace."

"Alright, one sec," Jo clicked a few times. "Incoming."

She leaned back and waited as everything downloaded. Shaking her head, she wondered how many exchanges were actually legally viable to the company.

"By the way, that was brutal Jo. I sure as hell don't understand your methods… but I respect them."

Jo looked up, eyeing Blair's office door. "All in a day's work." She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek, shaking herself to concentrate. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

The program had finally stopped. She clicked around the screen. "Alright. Let's see what we have here."

---

The double doors swung open as a small, swiftly moving crowd emptied the boardroom. The meeting of high-ranking managers and board executives had gone well enough for an hour and a half. Blair had outlined the next month's goals and, of course, informed them about the investigation of the warehouses in Tokyo.

She had been bombarded with questions right after the meeting and was, quite frankly, looking forward to her lunch break. Her phone chimed as she entered the lobby area.

In front lobby, on my way up.

It was from Amanda about lunch. Crap. She'd forgotten about that.

"Blair?" Her father's voice came from behind her.

Blair kept walking. "I'm in a hurry."

"Can we talk for a minute?" He'd caught up with her before she could reach the elevators.

Blair sent a quick text message. "I have lunch."

"Cancel it."

A blonde brow shot up. "Why?"

"Your mother and I need to talk with you." David kept his voice low.

Blair typed in another message. "Must be serious, you two together? Since when?" She sent it.

"Since you have a much public life, but not really a private one." David stated.

Blair casted a few looks around as the group of executives started to thin out going back to their offices. "Daddy what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about—"

"David!"

The CEO turned to see the hand of a tall, lanky man rapidly approaching. He grabbed it, shaking it firmly; giving him a fake smile. "Miles. Are we still on for golf this Friday?"

"Absolutely. I don't suppose you still need that handicap on the seventh again?" The gravelly voiced man laughed then sprouted a wide grin.

"Brutal hole, but I think I can mange," David informed.

The executive nodded, then turned his attention to Blair. "Great presentation. Shame about the warehouses, but we'll just have to rebuild, won't we?"

Miles Winstead. Tall, gray and almost 80 years old. He was one of the oldest board members. Blair regarded him, then lifted her head as if to nod back when something struck her about his demeanor. He was quite sure of himself.

I guess being on the board all these years he's been through it all, she mused, especially when my grandfather was President.

"That is one of our options," Blair said cautiously. Her phone pinged again.

"Good, good," Miles turned to the CEO. "David, tee time's at nine, don't be late. Jensen wants to discuss expanding his shares again."

"Wouldn't miss it." They shook hands again, and David watched as the man walked down the corridor toward the elevator.

"Daddy, I have to go." Blair started to move down the corridor.

David kept in lock step with his daughter. He noticed his phone chime with a text, and glanced at it. "Blair."

"Yes?"

"Madison's at twelve sharp, we have a reservation for three. She only has an hour." David read. He glanced at Blair, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Blair sighed. "Daddy this is short notice. I really can't. Can we reschedule?"

"Can't you? Obviously this is serious, why else would I agree to meet with your mother."

That she couldn't argue with; it was true. She studied her father, his fingers poised over his device ready to type in her answer. She decided she'd be the source of resolution this time.

"Alright. Just let me make a call."

---

"Jo…"

"One second, last level coming in…" There was tapping of a few buttons. "Alright done. What is it?"

"You have a visitor. There's a clone of you riding the elevator up to your floor."

"What?" Jo leaned back in the office chair. Noticing how comfortable it felt.

"I don't know who this woman is but I'd bet good money I couldn't tell the two of you apart from behind."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" Jo noticed the prompts stop. She leaned forward. "It's uploading now. You should get it in five minutes."

"Thanks. Get your ass back out in the lobby. She's two floors away."

"Right." She closed down the screen.

Jo pulled the USB out of the tower – stuffing it in her pocket. She swiftly made her way across the office; gently closing the door behind her.

She quickly sat at the small receptionist's desk. She had previously set up her laptop and had her notes situated in front of her. She watched as the elevator doors quietly slid open.

Whoa. Ok, I can see some resemblance. Maybe a couple inches shorter.

The woman was dressed in a very smart tan pants suit. No doubt designer as it fit her in all the right places.

As she stepped off the elevator, Jo noticed the woman look around the spacious lobby area until her eyes met Jo's.

"Hi."

The woman walked up to the receptionist's desk. "Hi. Is Blair in?"

"Uh, no, actually she stepped out for a minute."

"I see… " She turned and headed for the water cooler.

Jo watched the woman pour herself a cup full. "I'm sure she'll be right back."

"That's fine." She made her way back across the room toward Jo, a cautious smile on her lips. "I'm Amanda."

A brown head nodded. "Jo."

"Jo?"

Jo laughed a little to herself. "It's short for Joanna," she explained.

"I see," Amanda nodded then stepped away from the desk.

"Most people call me Jo."

A tight smile. "Sure." She took a sip.

"I'm new here." Jo sensed the need to explain herself to the woman.

"I see." The tone was slightly condescending.

There as a brief moment of silence then, "She shouldn't be much longer," Jo reassured.

Amanda took her cell out of her purse and tapped it. "I'll just give her a call."

Jo smiled. "Good idea."

"Blair? Hi I'm here… your office lobby. Yes, your secretary just told me you were on your way."

Jo smirked.

"*snicker*"

"No, I didn't get your message. I lost reception as soon as I entered the elevator. You sound upset. Alright, I'll just wait here with your secretary then — she isn't?"

Amanda slid her eyes over to the receptionist desk. She made a quick assessment of Jo as she typed away on her laptop. "Oh. I see. Bye."

Amanda put her cell phone back in her purse. "Sooo… Jo was it?"

Jo sensed eyes on her and looked up as the woman approached. "Yes?"

Amanda tapped her chin. "I remember now. Blair's told me a lot about you."

Jo sported a surprised look. "Really?"

"Yes. She said the two of you would be working together... some special little project or something or other." Amanda blinked, a plastered on smile graced her features.

"We are working on a project. My company is, that is," Jo reiterated.

Amanda nodded then looked around the lobby, taking in the décor as she did. There wasn't much to it, just a couple of office plants; a few paintings on the beige walls. She recognized one or two of the artists.

Jo watched her for a moment. "She hadn't mentioned you," she pointed out.

Amanda turned her attention back to Jo. "Oh, she hasn't? Well, we are very close." She stressed. "I'm sure she just didn't want to bring home the office… you understand."

Jo frowned a bit. Not really. "I'm sure you're right. I mean… I guess."

Jo was standing now, her hands in her pockets. She felt the small plastic device and rolled the flash drive around with her fingers. The two women just stood there and nodded to each other. The conversation had started to waver a bit.

"Get her full name, Jo."

"I didn't quite get your name."

"Amanda Palmero. I'm the chief curator at the VillaManzi Gallery." Amanda kept her eyes riveted to Jo.

"Jo Polniaczek, systems analyst for JTI. We're an educational software company."

"Nice pitch."

"How fascinating," Gray eyes held Jo's. There was a slight smirk.

Jo ignored it. "You said VillaManzi Gallery?"

"Yes. Second largest in the city. I'm sure you're familiar with MOMA?"

Jo thought for a second. "I'm sorry, MOMA?"

"Museum of Modern Art. They're the largest gallery. My mother sits on the board of trustees." It was added with a superior air.

Jo slowly recognized the formal name. "Ah, sure, sure. I have heard of the museum. I didn't realize it was called MOMA."

"You're so uncultured, for shame."

Amanda gave a faint smile. "Simple acronym. Confuses some, but if you really think about it."

"Makes sense," Jo interjected lightly.

"Jo, Blair's coming up on the executive elevator. She'll be rounding the corner in about thirty seconds. Doesn't look happy."

Does she ever lately? "You're welcome to wait for Blair. I'm sure she'll be here any second now."

Amanda blinked a smile. "I'm sure."

They could both hear the executive elevator open and the sound of faint footsteps making their way down the hall. Blair had rounded the corner; her steps getting lighter and slower as the two women came into view.

She was visibly flustered. Her face and neck were crimson red and there was a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. She stood there for a few seconds her eyes going between the two.

"Blair?" Amanda noted the almost alarmed look gracing Blair's features.

"I see you two have met," Blair flicked her eyes to both of them. She seemed to be out of breath.

Amanda moved to stand by her side. "Yes. Joanna here was just telling me about the project her company has her working on."

Blair nodded, then turned her attention to Jo. "Y-yes. Um, did you get all of the information you needed?" She moved to approach the receptionist desk.

Jo nodded. "I did. Thank you. I was able to incorporate everything into my program. I'm just going to sit here and go over the spread sheets… again," she added. Blair seemed extremely tense.

"Good, good," Blair cleared her throat as she gestured to Amanda to follow her into the office.

"If you'll excuse us. Amanda?"

Amanda blinked then gave Jo a squinted glare as she passed by the desk. "Excuse us."

Blair entered the office and quickly headed for her desk.

Amanda paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Nice meeting you, Joanna."

Jo acknowledged the woman. "Same to you."

She watched as the door closed. Then discreetly put her hand over her mouth as she stared at her laptop; pretending to concentrate. She was careful not to tip off security.

"Palmero. What do we have on her?"

"Better yet, why the hell do we not know about her? Damn, just what we need! Someone new from outside to fuck up everything."

Jo pretended to type, keeping her head down. "She works at an art gallery; it's no surprise she would know Blair. Probably harmless."

"She was sizing you up."

Jo hefted a laugh at that. Classic. "You mean judging me? Typical of Blair's friends, they always are."

"Actually, I think... hold on, I just got your last file."

"I warned you it's huge," Jo's eyes flicked to the security camera.

"Ok, wow. Yeah this is going to take analytics a while. Here's what I'm going to do. I sent in a request for information on Ms. Palmero. I'll fill you in once we get it all. In the meantime, keep a low profile, Jo."

"Don't I always?"

"I mean until we find out more about Blair's mysterious friend."

Jo glanced at Blair's office door. "No problem."

---

"I thought we were on for lunch, what happened?" Amanda watched as Blair closed her file cabinet then made her way back to her desk.

"My parents." Blair sighed as she took a seat.

"Did you tell them you have plans already?" Amanda asked. She was visibly upset.

"I did, but they're persistent." Blair turned off her computer. She glanced at the frustrated woman seated in front of her. She felt a twinge of sympathy.

She moved around to stand by Amanda. "I'm sorry. It must be something important otherwise they wouldn't both be risking injury to meet together."

Amanda grabbed Blair's hand stroking the backside gently before looking up into soft brown eyes. "Any idea what this is all about?"

"Not one clue."

There was silence for a moment then. "Rain check?" Amanda held a hopeful expression.

"Sure." Blair smiled.

Amanda stood up, noticing brown eyes following her. She gently placed her hands on Blair's hips. "You know, since they'll both be together, it wouldn't be a bad time to tell them about us."

Blair cast a quick peek at the door then back to expectant eyes. "Amanda, in public? Besides I'm not… " She stepped out of the embrace.

Not ready, right. Amanda let her hands fall. "Fair enough." She watched as Blair grabbed her briefcase. It wasn't lost on her the number of times the blonde had turned her gaze toward her office door. So what if she catches us Blair.

"Speaking of which. Your friend out there… she doesn't have a clue, does she?"

Blair shook her head, her jaw tensed visibly. "No. And I, I'd prefer it if… "

"Shhh… don't worry. When you're ready." A hand went up and touched Blair on the shoulder.

"Thank you," Blair stated softly, relieved.

Amanda watched as Blair stuffed a few more items into her briefcase. She looked around the office for a moment, then back to Blair.

"She's gorgeous."

Blair peered at the brunette, blinking several times. "Excuse me?"

Amanda nodded toward the door. "Your friend. You didn't tell me she was so pretty, so… handsomely pretty."

Blair inhaled a breath then checked her phone. "She's from the Bronx."

Amanda took in the new information. "The Bronx." Interesting.

"Amanda I have to go, I'm already late and they're waiting for me." It was said with part trepidation, part dread.

Amanda waved her arm, gesturing for Blair to move past her. "By all means, please lead the way."

Blair did just that. Exiting the office, she moved swiftly past Jo.

Amanda closed the door then turned and regarded Jo. "Joanna, nice meeting you." The look was one of insincerity, and it wasn't lost on Jo.

"Same to you," came the direct reply. Jo shifted her eyes noting Blair keeping an eye on the two of them.

Blair stepped forward to address her project partner. "Are you taking a break for lunch?"

Jo checked her phone. Almost twelve. "Ah, didn't realize. Yeah, I'm meeting Tootie," she informed.

Blair let a pleasant look grace her face. "Tell her I said hello."

"I will," Jo smiled back.

With that, Blair nodded as she and Amanda made their way around the corner and out of sight.

"How cordial."

"How fake," Jo made a sour face.

She started to gather the loose papers on her desk, putting them in her briefcase.

"Why don't you take a break from all the hoopla and go grab some lunch… Joanna."

It was said teasingly, and Jo had to roll her eyes a little at her full name. Not many people felt daring enough to use it, especially those she'd told of her preferred shorter version.

Keeping her head down, Jo reached for her phone. "Best idea you've had all day." A wicked smile. "I'll be disconnecting from all the hoopla now."

She tapped it a few times, noting the chuckle on the other end was cut off abruptly as she ended their connection.

---

Madison's was a cordial, upscale restaurant located in the most posh part of Manhattan. Despite the English name it boasted a unique French menu, and was a favorite of Monica's.

Blair expected to see many of her colleagues there, including those from rival companies. She quickly scanned the room and wasn't disappointed. Upon arrival the Maitre D had a host escort the President to her table.

She had spotted them. Her parent's sat at a little table set for four, off to the left. Her father was engrossed in his phone, while her mother sat nursing a glass of wine.

Red wine.

Not good. Mother only drinks red vino when she's upset about something.

After being momentarily detained by a few associates and acquaintances while on her way to the table, Blair took the menu from the host, kissed her mother's cheek then sat down in the chair that was held out for her. "Thank you."

"We've already ordered," David said without looking up from his phone.

"Darling, what took you so long?" Monica quirked an eyebrow at her eldest daughter.

"I had a few things I needed to tie up, is all," Blair gave them both a polite smile as scanned the menu. She had practically memorized it from all the times she'd taken various clients and colleagues to the restaurant. She decided to get the usual. She sensed the need to ground herself.

Monica studied her for a moment. "I see."

The waiter arrived and Blair closed her menu and handed it to him. "I'll have the Le saumon roti sauce Aurore au saffran, garniture provençale aux herbes fraiches."

"Very good, Madame." The waiter finished writing the order. "...and wine, Madame?"

"Yes please. Whatever she's having," Blair gestured towards her mother.

"As you wish, very good," the waiter bowed slightly then left.

"Chateau Lafite Rothschild, Dear. You won't be disappointed." Monica informed.

"Sounds good." Blair sat back and regarded her parents. "Well. What was so important you had to drag me here?" She set her hands on the table clasping them together.

Monica sniffed, then took a sip of wine eyeing her ex-husband. "David?"

A newspaper was produced. The New York Times. David placed it in front of Blair.

Blair sat up. "What's this?"

"Page three, bottom corner," came the gruff reply.

Blair chuckled internally. Shaking her head, she had to wonder at her father's propensity for reading the tangible version of the paper. He was a die-hard. She flicked through the first two pages before finding the small article.

She read it.

Wow. Didn't take them long. "I guess that's a done deal then." She folded the paper and slid it back to her father.

The waiter had arrived and presented a sample of wine for Blair. She tasted it and nodded her approval. The waiter filled her glass, then left.

Monica and David watched as Blair casually sipped. Her eyes darting around the restaurant, nodding at a few of the patron's she knew.

Monica cleared her throat, annoyed at Blair's nonchalant attitude. This was serious. "Really, Darling? You couldn't have told us beforehand?"

Blair flicked her gaze to her mother. "You both knew we separated, legally and publically."

"I thought the two of you were working things out." David interjected.

Blair sat her glass down. "Did you really, Daddy? Cliff's in Florida pursuing his residency," she pointedly informed.

"And when he's finished, the plan was to come back to New York." Monica kept her voice down.

"No. It wasn't, Mother. That was never the plan." Blair was stern.

"Keep your voice down!"

Blair rolled her eyes a bit. "We just decided it was best to end it."

David leaned forward. "Blair, you and I both know whenever we do something this drastic there are consequences." He put a finger on the paper for emphasis.

Blair arched a brow at that. "Isn't this whole thing a bit hypocritical?"

"This is different." He sat back.

Blair shook her head. His insistent demeanor was making her angry. "How? How, Daddy?!"

"Shh!" Monica held a finger to her lips.

That was enough. "Oh please, Mother. You've got to be kidding me. Look at the two of you. You mean to tell me you're going to try and lecture me about divorce?"

Monica abruptly rose from her chair. "This was a bad idea. Garcon?!"

"Monica sit!" David barked. They were aware of eyes on them now. Monica sucked in a grimace as she slowly regained composer and sat back down. She picked up her glass and continued nursing her vino.

David turned his attention back to his daughter. "Blair, your mother and I only want what's best for you."

Blair smirked. "Oh, well now I get it. How foolish of me. Of course you could care less about my life. This isn't even about me, is it?"

"Darling, you're overreacting," Monica muttered.

Unbelievable. "Don't, Mother."

"Please try and understand… "

"Oh I understand," Blair clenched her jaw. "You decided to hash this all out here; in public. How predictable! God forbid we actually discuss this in private. My goodness, we can't have that can we?! That'd mean we'd actually have to talk to each other, tell each other what we really think of just how manipulative this whole thing really is!"

There was an awkward silence, then, "Are you finished?"

Blair turned blazing eyes on her father. "Are you? Tell me what is the bottom line here, hmm?"

Monica swirled her wine glass. "You're being impossible on purpose."

"I'm being?!" Barely concealed anger etched Blair's face. "This is about the trust isn't it!"

"Blair, keep your voice down." David's tone held a tinge of warning.

Blair scooted from her chair, rising in a huff. "Fine, let's take this outside, shall we? That way we won't put on a show!"

"Calm. Down." David pounded his open hand on the table, glaring up at his daughter.

Their eyes locked in a quiet test of wills. Tempers had been brought to the edge, yet each one of them understood the significance of the situation. They were in public. That meant decorum at all costs.

Blair stood silently for a moment then pinched the bridge of her nose and quietly sat back down. She swiftly grabbed her glass and downed the rest of the wine, loudly setting it back on the table. There was a low hum around the room. Several diners had eyed their table; whispers could be heard along with the tinkling of piano keys and silverware. A few moments passed, the noise of the restaurant returning to a respectable level.

Monica addressed her daughter. "So I guess you and Paul are an item for now?"

Blair slowly rolled her eyes to meet the brown ones of her mother. "No... No. See, you're wrong about that too mother."

Monica acted surprised. "Really dear? He seems quite perfect for you. Perhaps you should give him a chance." She picked up her wine glass and brought it to her lips. "Since Cliff is no longer in the picture."

"Well, I think his fiancée may have something to say about that." Blair quirked her lips a bit.

"Come again?" Monica lowered her glass, eyeing Blair in question.

"He's getting married in about two weeks." She waited a few beats, running her fingers up and down the stem of her empty wine glass.

"To a man." It was said tersely, calculatedly.

"I beg your pardon, Dear?" Monica stiffened visibly in her seat, a hand coming up to touch her chest in effectuated shock.

Blair almost enjoyed it. "I said he's marrying a man, Mother."

Monica glanced at David who was sitting still – his mouth open in a dumbfounded expression. "I don't understand. What, why would…"

Blair shook her head. "Oh please. It's 2015. You can say it. He's gay."

Monica leaned forward. "What on earth would you get out of dating a gay man, Blair?"

Blair's eye's flashed. "You mean besides tips on decorating and fabulous taste in shoes?" She grinned sarcastically. "You tell me. We've all seen the society blogs and pages. We look good together, don't we?"

"Blair what exactly are you trying to convey here?" David had a concerned look on his face.

"I'm tired of this whole thing. You brought me here to tell me I made a mistake divorcing Cliff, right? Or to confirm I'm abiding by the family duty of making sure I'm properly bred. Which one?" Blair asked, noticing their waiter arriving with their entrée's.

"Here we are Madame, Madame, and Monsieur." The waiter sat down each dish carefully in front of them. The steam rising from the plates did nothing to quell the confused, angry and shocked expressions of her parents.

Blair glanced up at the waiter once he was finished. "You know what? Wrap it up please, Garcon. I'm going to need this to go."

She got up, ignoring the confused look of the waiter as he quickly moved out of the way, almost tripping backward.

"I'll wait for it up front," Blair threw her napkin on the table.

"As you wish, Madame." The waiter quickly noted.

"It's Mademoiselle." Blair corrected him. He nodded, then left swiftly.

David turned pleading eyes to Blair. "Please. You're overreacting."

Blair bent down within earshot, eyeing them both. "Save it. Both of you." Her tone was clipped.

She reached in her purse placing a hundred dollar bill on the table. "You don't really know me."

With a quick turn of a heel and brisk steps, Blair made her way from the table, her parents, and the spectacle they'd created.

---

The room was dark. Or was it an auditorium? Either way, the walls and curtains were all black. The stage ahead wasn't exactly tiny… small. Yes. No. Intimate was a better fit; an intimate stage setting.

Jo stood on the top step, the glaring stage lights temporarily blinding her.

"Jo, over here!"

Jo shielded her eyes with her hand as she made her way down the steps toward the stage. "Nice digs."

Tootie smiled then helped her up on to the stage and over to a small table where there was food and drinks. "The craft cart only had chicken salad, chips and lemonade."

Jo delighted in the spread before her. "Looks good. I haven't eaten since early this morning and that was just an apple."

Tootie handed her a sandwich. "Don't tell me you're on a diet too."

"Not at all."

They each grabbed a bag of chips and a cup of lemonade; then made their way over to a small table with two chairs and sat down.

Jo immediately took a large bite of her sandwich. "I do have to keep in shape. It's part of the job," she chewed.

Tootie raised a brow. "Part of the job? You sit at a desk all day." She crunched a chip.

"Which is why we're encouraged to work out in the gym at my building. I also run." Jo took a sip of lemonade.

They sat there for a moment, enjoying the taste of the food.

Jo wiped her mouth looking around the stage. Professional design and settings were being worked on. She was impressed. This was a well-known location. Many off Broadway productions came through the Grammerson Playhouse Theater.

"So, when's opening night, Toot?"

"In about five weeks. We're just doing table readings right now. Getting to know each other."

Jo nodded. "How big is the cast?"

"Pretty small, actually. It's a Shakespeare play so… But I love the director," Tootie pointed out.

"That's great, Tootie," Jo smiled.

Tootie watched Jo for a moment. "What about you? You can't tell me programming is exciting." She took a bite of her sandwich.

Not at all. Jo had to think about that. Computers had been her guilty pleasure in college. She'd been fascinated by them. When JTI offered her a job, she was thrilled to be able to utilize her skills, but...

She reflected about her credentials as a secret service agent. She felt… needed. Yeah. She decided she liked that. And the pay was better than she had expected. It was just the danger that came with everything, she mused. And the secrecy. She wasn't a fan of that.

She gave Tootie a little grin. "I get out on my bike when I need a break from time to time."

"Oh my God, I saw the new bike!" Tootie giggled. "It's so much bigger than what you used to ride, Jo."

It was her pride and joy. Jo loved to ride, but the need to travel compelled her to buy a bike with a bit more cargo space without depriving the look of the masterpiece that was her 'baby' of course.

Jo felt a little giddy when talking about her prized mode of transportation. "I just got it before I rode out here." She knew she sounded proud, but well... she was.

Tootie hummed. "You must be doing pretty well at JTI."

A lopsided grin. "I do Okay." Jo motioned to her table companion. "What about you? What are you doing besides acting?"

"I just started yoga a few days ago."

Jo sat back. "Oh yeah? What brought that on?"

Tootie shrugged. "Acting's stressful. It gives me a chance to re-connect with myself. Meditate and disconnect from the world for an hour three times a week." She laughed.

Jo smiled and rocked back in her chair regarding her friend. "You know, one day soon you're going to be a star, Tootie."

Tootie waved her off smiling. "Naah, I've got a ways to go yet."

"Well, when you do, don't forget us little people," Jo chided.

"Hardly," Tootie picked up her lemonade slurping it. "You guy's keep me grounded." She set the cup down. "I know sometimes I can be a little… pretentious." She slyly eyed Jo.

"You? Pretentious? Nooo…" Jo dodged the napkin that was thrown her way as a giggle escaped her.

Tootie smiled. "I'm serious, I just…" She looked up at the rafters, at the lights, the ropes holding the walls of scenery above. She loved the stage; the rush of excitement on opening night, the nostalgic feeling of nailing that last line, in that show, after that last curtain call.

And she was just getting started. "I want to be taken seriously. You know?"

I can understand that. "I totally understand." Jo let a smile cross her lips. "I guess you're pretty serious about this whole acting thing."

Tootie considered the question. "About as serious as you are about the whole computer thing, I gather."

"Yeah. Well, I do have a Master's degree in computer science."

"And a Bachelor's in English," Tootie reminded her.

True. Moving to California had afforded Jo the option to gain employment as well as pursue turning her minor in English to a Bachelor's degree and her Bachelor's in Computer science to a Master's... all done at Stanford University. It was required for all agents to have a Master's, at least, in her field.

"It's a… job," Jo sat her chair on all fours.

"Just a job?" came the non-convincing inquiry.

Jo scratched at the side of her neck. "I like being able to help people."

Tootie nodded. The side of her mouth quirked. "You know, I always thought you'd be in a classroom somewhere, Jo."

A brow rose. "Really."

"Yes." Tootie regarded her seriously.

"What would make you think that?" Jo crossed her arms over her chest, a little bemused.

Tootie thought for a second. "Just." A shrug. "Remember that middle school class you interned during your junior year at Langley?"

Jo rubbed her chin in thought. "Yeah." A chuckle.

"You wouldn't shut up about how much those kids got on your nerves, but there was a twinkle."

"A twinkle, Tootie?" Jo laughed then eyed her companion.

A vigorous nod. "You just lit up whenever you talked about how you finally got through to them."

Wow, that seemed like so long ago. "Yeah well, I realized I needed to be able to afford to make a living so… " She trailed off thinking about those afternoons at Jefferson Middle School. Nothing quite like the feeling of seeing those eyes light up when you've finally gotten them to understand a concept, or a theory. Yeah. She smiled wistfully.

"So?" Tootie's question lingered as she watched Jo reminisce. She turned, noticing one of her colleagues coming up the stage steps. "Oh! Hi, Jill."

The short redhead handed her a sheet of paper. "Just got the schedule for the run."

Tootie took it. "Great, thanks. Oh this is my friend, Jo Polniaczek. Jo, Jill Martin." She looked at Jo, "She's my understudy." She informed.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Jo waved.

"Same to you." The woman nodded and smiled then made her way over to the food cart.

Tootie scanned the document. "Wow, we're going to be pretty busy the first week."

She turned it over. "Four middle schools and high schools. Let's see that's three show's for the morning and matinee and two in the evening. Then weekends and night time shows for the general public," she stated happily.

"Sound's very busy for you," Jo commented.

Tootie's eyes lit up. "I love it, Jo. Being this busy helps me hone my acting chops and fine tune the character when I have to play her so many times." Tootie's excitement was almost palpable.

"Not to mention the reaction from the audience right?" Jo pointed out.

"They love it. The set up is so intimate, we're so close to the front rows, you can see them getting caught up in the story," she flashed a big, genuine smile.

Jo tilted her head. She watched as Tootie made note of every one of her performances. It wasn't just the work part, but the actual enjoyment of working… as an actress.

Jo regarded her friend still engrossed in her schedule. "I'm sure it's a great learning experience for the kids to actually see real life situations acted out. It grounds them; helps them relate to the story Shakespeare was trying to convey as a real life person to be taken seriously. The real elements of the story reflected through the interpretation of the actors. All viewed through the eyes of the student."

Jo stopped herself. She almost laughed. She hadn't meant to blurt that out. She shook her head and grabbed her lemonade, finishing it.

Tootie looked up, absorbing Jo's interpretation as she did. She watched as Jo shyly glanced around the stage. Taking it all in. Enjoying it.

She gets it. Tootie sat her schedule down on the table. "Yes… yes that's it."

---

"Ma'am we can't let you through."

"Ma'am? Can the niceties, Doug. Since when am I not allowed up to see Blair?" Natalie gave the security guard a stern eye.

"Miss Warner is momentarily unavailable," came the stoic reply.

"Ok, fine then. Let me contact my other friend, who's working for her." She whipped out her phone and began dialing. "You may have heard of her? Jo Polniaczek?"

"We're aware. If you'll please step aside ma'am."

The lobby was beginning to fill up with employee's returning from lunch. Jo had just entered the area, spotting the persistent reporter. She quickly ambled over to her.

"Nat?"

Natalie turned around at the familiar voice. "Thank God! You know, ever since Blair became president her palace guards here have become insufferable," she gestured to the tall, broad shouldered man.

"Yeah, well…" Jo eyed him cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see you."

Jo recognized the stressed aspect of Natalie's demand. She eyed the guard again. He was trying his best to act like he wasn't listening.

"You could've called me," Jo kept her voice low, hoping Natalie would get the hint.

Natalie smirked, then whispered. "I need to speak with you in private." She kept her eyes on the guard as she spoke.

"Okay, okay. Let's take this outside." Jo grabbed Natalie's elbow, catching the guard's eye as she did, giving him a tiny glare.

She guided Natalie out of the building. They walked swiftly until they'd reached a bench in the atrium. A few people were standing around, drinking coffee or talking on their phones. None were particularly paying any attention to them.

Jo met Natalie's eyes. "What is it?"

Natalie dropped her voice. "You have to take it away."

"What?" There was a confused frown as Jo quickly glanced around.

Natalie's voice rose. "Take it away, Jo! I don't want to know what I know about you!" She was breathing heavily now.

Jo regretfully shook her head negatively. "Nat..."

"I can't function as a reporter." Natalie's brow wrinkled with frustration. "Do you know how hard it was for me to explain why I gave up my interview with Sam Holder?"

"Sam Holder…" Jo thought for a second. "One of the aides to the mayor?" She questioned, not quite sure.

"Yes! I passed on it!"

Natalie was becoming a bit panicked and Jo felt, honestly... helpless. She grimaced internally. It was indeed a conundrum; one she didn't really have an easy solution to.

Natalie blinked at her. "Because I can't report on government officials remember?" She said. She took a hard seat on the metal bench, raking a hand full of hair off of her face as she did.

Jo sighed and sat down beside her friend. "Nat. There are other stories." Okay, she had to wince at that. Not exactly the most sympathetic choice of words.

It was met with an incredulous look. "That's your answer?" Natalie abruptly stood. "Great, fine. Well here's mine. Induce me." Blue eyes bored into green.

Jo looked up, holding the gaze. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" Natalie put her hands on her hips; her frustration was teetering on full-blown anger.

Jo stood, brushing off her slacks as she did. "For one, we're past the time limit. Two, there's no way you'd be able to account for lost time." She hoped that would explain things enough.

"I'm not following. You said I could be induced today," Natalie questioned.

"By ten this morning," Jo reminded. "It's past one in the afternoon," she said and regretted the hopeless and sorrowful look on Natalie's face.

"Nat, I'm sorry." Damn protocol. She doesn't deserve this.

"This isn't fair!"

Jo tried to be reassuring. "It would just be too hard to explain your whereabouts. Think about what you would say to Tootie. Nat you would've lost an entire day."

It was true. But that's just how the drugs work. They couldn't risk using it for affecting more than a few hours for fear of harming an individual. It was recommended for use within an eight hour range the first time. Natalie's situation was a bit trickier. They had discussed her situation, making a final decision the best solution was not to induce her twice within an eight hour period.

"Oh God, there goes my entire career. Great, just great." The reporter sat back down, cradling her head in her hands. "This sucks on so many levels."

Jo was at a loss for words. She watched as Natalie looked up at the steel building in front of her. It was all encompassing. Tall, strong, cold and deceitfully confining.

"Nat," she sighed, placing a soothing hand on her friend's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I really am."

"Yeah." Natalie gave Jo a halfhearted smile. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and stood. Exhaling heavily, she turned and took at the giant statue in the middle of the atrium: The Loom. The loom of doom. Just like me... doomed. Sighing she stared at the old world loom. She cocked her head to the side for a second, thinking.

"Look, Nat. I have to get back to work," Jo checked her watch. She turned to walk back towards the entrance of the lobby.

Natalie quickly stood up. "Wait a minute..."

"What?" Jo stopped, turning back around.

Natalie slowly started to nod her head, a brief smile breaking upon her face. "Maybe my not-so-dimwitted roommate was on to something after all."

Oh boy. Caution bells went off in Jo's head. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about doing an exclusive on my good friend, the newly appointed President of Warner textiles, Blair Warner!" Natalie's smile got bigger as she waited for Jo to validate her genius idea.

A blank stare, then there was a bit of quiet contemplation. Hmm…eh. "Go for it." Jo turned again, making her way towards the revolving door.

Nat followed close behind, feeling a new sense of purpose. "And I have you to help me."

Jo stopped again. "Forget it, Nat." She gave her a menacing glare.

Natalie ignored it. "C'mon! You're practically working for her."

"With her. I told you this is research for JTI." Jo was becoming slightly annoyed now. She internally rolled her eyes at Natalie's relentless and disbelieving expression.

"Look, her goons in there won't let you past the lobby, so forget it." Jo attempted to make the point. She tipped her head toward the three guards at the sign-in station.

"That's where you can help me!"

"Not likely." Jo really wished she would knock off the crazy optimistic smile. It looked maniacal. She knew whenever Natalie got an idea in her head it was almost impossible to persuade her otherwise.

"Why not?" Natalie questioned.

"They barely tolerate me," Jo said.

Natalie looked through the glass doors. "What's their problem?"

"Loyalty," Jo practically sneered.

"You're Blair's friend," Natalie tried to rationalize.

"Evidently that doesn't matter in the corporate world."

Jo tried to suppress a forlorn look. Truth was, she was still a little unnerved by Blair's 'corporate decision' to escort her out of the building. It stung. Yes it did... or more smarted than anything else. They had both decided to bury it for now.

Natalie gazed at her curiously. "What happened?"

Jo twisted her lips in a cynical expression, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "She threw me out." It was stated nonchalantly.

Both eyebrows shot up on Natalie's forehead. "What'd you do?"

I do? That sounded like an accusation and it, frankly, rubbed Jo the wrong way. "What do you mean!?"

Natalie crossed her arms over her chest and pinned Jo with a staid look. "This is the two of you we're talking about here, Jo. Spill it."

A smirk. "I have no idea."

The reporter gave her friend an unconvinced expression that held for a few moments... long enough to be irritating. Jo took a breath. "I'm serious. She won't tell me and I'm tired of asking. I have a job to do."

With that, Jo went through the revolving doors. Natalie, fast on her heels, rode around with her. She wasn't deterred. She smiled, her mind made up. "Perfect. So maybe I can find out."

Jo regarded her. "Maybe you'll leave it alone, Nat," she said a little incensed. They'd slowed down, and remained out of earshot of the guards' station.

You know me better than that, Jo. Natalie rocked back on her heels. Perhaps, I'll lead with another question: "Do you think she's still mad at you for coming out?"

Green eye's visibly turned a deeper green, Natalie noticed. Jo swallowed. Whoa. She didn't really expect that. Jo blinked in silent shock as her voice took on an affected tone. "She was mad at me?"

Ok… this is why I'm a cub reporter. Got a lot to learn, Green! Lead with the right question, not the one that gives away the story before there is one. "Wha-? N-no! She just didn't want to talk about it. At all." Natalie finished a bit shakily.

That was an obvious back-pedal. Jo's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Really."

"Totally quiet on the plane ride home. Whenever Tootie and I tried to bring up the subject, she'd politely change it." Natalie concluded. The cat was out of the bag now. Might as well name it.

Jo nodded slowly, biting the inside of her lip. She didn't know why that bit of information sent a wounded pang through her, but it did. She felt helpless about it, so she stuffed it down, for now. Maybe Eric was right.

She watched as several employee's went through security; then checked her watch again. "Uh, look Nat I have to get back up there. I'll put in a good word for you with Blair, how's that?" She forced a smile.

"I need clearance to get upstairs," Natalie stated the obvious, flicking her eyes over at the big, burly guard, Doug - who was watching them when not swiping employee badges. She didn't really feel like getting into blows with them though, she thought. Keep first things first. The story.

"I'll come back later. Maybe tomorrow," she amended. She needed to get clearance on her proposal first. Her boss being the only stumbling block besides Blair, of course. But she'd make it a priority to work on that.

"I'll work on that for you." With that Jo quickly moved through security with no problems. She waved to Natalie who waved back.

Natalie watched as Jo moved around the corner and out of sight. She smirked at security, then turned and walked out of the building toward her car... making a plan as she did so.

Blair Warner's rise to power. This has juicy story written all over it. She unlocked the car door. Now if only Hanson will give me the green light!

---

Jo had rolled her sleeves up and was steadily working on workflow solutions for the capstone project. Typing then reviewing her notes every now and then - she heard the distant pinging of the executive elevator. Probably Blair. She kept working, reviewing her notes.

The light clicking of footsteps grew close; the air wafted of perfume. Jo shook her head. It was amusing how Blair's scent preceded her arrival into a room.

"How was lunch?" She kept her eyes glued to the screen, sensing the swift movement of the blonde executive past her desk.

"Fabulous."

That sounded harsh, and it got Jo's attention. Her hands stilled over the keyboard as the office door was flung open and Blair swiftly entered the room.

Jo sighed. She knew the cues. She slowly got up - picking up her pad and pencil. May as well get some things done in the process. She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Brown eyes glanced up at Jo from across the room. Blair was sitting at her desk, checking her email. "What is it, Jo?"

"I have a few questions I need to ask you. It's part of the procedure." Jo tapped the top of her pad with a pen.

"Can't this wait?" Blair sent an agitated look toward her office mate.

It wasn't lost on her. You don't have to tell me twice. "Sure. Just let me know." Jo started to close the door.

A sigh. "Wait, Jo. Come in. Let's get this over with." Blair ran fingertips through her bangs.

"Are you alright?" Jo asked as she made her way to sit in front of the desk. Crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm fine." Blair had her to-go box from the restaurant open and took a bite of bread before closing the lid and pushing it to the side. Not hungry. She placed her hands in her lap, clasping them together, and then got comfortable in her chair. "Fire away."

Jo turned to her notes. "Ok, let's see." She looked up into waiting brown eyes. "What's the first thing you do when you sit down at your desk in the morning?"

"Check my emails and answer them," Blair responded.

"Who do you talk with first?"

"Usually my chief financial officer."

Jo nodded her head. "And next?"

"VP's of marketing and advertising."

"They have daily reports for you?"

"Not every day. At least three times a week on average."

Jo scribbled down a few answers. "And next?"

"I look at our stocks."

"What if they're down?"

Blair took a moment to think, her eyes never leaving Jo's. "Usually I get emails from shareholders immediately and I answer them as best I can."

"You mean to appease them," Jo gave her a knowing look.

"For the most part," Blair admitted.

A nod. "Who is the main shareholder you have to answer to."

"My father."

Not surprising. "And then who?"

"Agnes Steinbruner."

"And then?"

"Miles Winstead." Blair shifted in her seat a little.

A few scribbles. "Who's in charge of security?"

"Doug Fairmount."

"Who is Amanda Palmero?"

"She's a friend of… wait a minute, Jo." A blonde brow rose.

Jo kept her composure. "I just assumed she had something to do with the company since she was here earlier." That was met with a slow blink.

Jo continued. "I mean your security clearance is pretty selective wouldn't you say? She'd have to be pretty important if she got through so easily and say... " She shrugged. "Natalie or Tootie had a hard time."

Blair inhaled. I get it. "Or you." A squint. "You still want me to explain that."

Was that a question or accusation - Jo couldn't decide. She waved it off. "No. I'm good, really I am."

Blair didn't really believe her, but her day was going off the rails as it was, so she agreed to let it go. "Are you done?"

"You didn't answer my last question." Jo was steadfast. She quietly observed the woman in front of her. She knew Blair. Knew when she was being vague.

"She's just a friend of mine. We met at a gallery party and that's it. Are you finished?"

Jo uncrossed her legs. An almost overwhelming sense of foreboding overcame her. It wasn't lost on her the attitude Blair's friend had toward her. It made her feel damn uncomfortable. For all she knew, it may have been brought on by something completely and totally shallow, she had reasoned. Wouldn't be the first time. Nonetheless, Jo wasn't going to be satisfied until she resolved it. She closed her pad. "For now."

"Thanks." Jo gave Blair a tight grin before standing and heading for the door.

She turned around. "I'll be out here gathering my things together… shouldn't take long. Just go over a few notes and I'll be out of your hair." She opened the door.

Blair thought for a second. "Jo, wait."

Jo stopped and waited.

"What time are you coming in tomorrow?"

Good question. "I don't know. You tell me." This time she would respect Blair's wishes, as she had put it. No more off the cuff plans... at least that she knew of at the moment.

"How's nine sound?" Blair asked.

Oh, now she's asking me? "No problem. Anything else?"

"No. No, that's it." Blair held a hand up.

"Okay then." Jo stood there for a moment, in case Blair wanted to ask her something else. She could hear the faint sounds of daily activities going on around the office floor. When she saw Blair go back to reading her emails, she closed the door then sat down at her desk.

Tapping the back of her ear, she started to close down her laptop. "I'm packing up for the day. Got anything new for me?"

"Funny you should ask. I'm calling a meeting."

Jo stopped her task. "When?"

"Now."

"Alright give me an hour, I have to close down here, then run some errands." She opened her briefcase. "What's the meeting about?"

"You'll see when you get here."

A glower. "I hate it when you're vague."

Eric chuckled. "Don't worry, Summers and Mendoza are just as in the dark as you are."

She threw her pad in the briefcase along with a few pens. "Good to know."

"And play nice with the boss. She needs to stay neutral in all of this."

Yeah, well... "I'll play as nice as she'll let me." She put her laptop in the side slot of her bag.

"Jo."

"What." She knew what was coming.

"You need to get on her good side."

"You do realize this is Blair Warner we're talking about here."

"And you know her as well as anyone."

Okay, that she couldn't argue with. She conceded. "I'll make nice."

"For the sake of the case," Eric interjected.

"For the sake of the case," Jo agreed. This was, after all, about the case and the case only.

She zipped up and latched her briefcase before straightening up the desk chair. She didn't hear Blair's office door open.

"Jo?" It was so softly it almost startled Jo when she looked up to see the blonde standing behind the door. She held it against her with her head peeking out.

Jo straightened, a confused look on her face. "Yeah?"

Blair entered the lobby a little more, still staying within the confines of the half open door. "Look, um, I was thinking: I don't want us to start things off like this."

Jo didn't say anything, but instead gave the president of Warner Textiles her undivided attention.

Blair continued. "We're going to be working together for a while and I just think we should agree to at least get along while we're here at work."

Jo nodded. "I don't have a problem with that. I mean, Blair, we've known each other for what… fourteen years?"

Blair leaned on the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Lived together for eight or so."

Yes. Jo locked knowing eyes with Blair with a small upturned crooked smile. "Argued, fought and cried together," she supplemented.

Yeah, yeah we did. Blair smiled back. Her eyes lighted a little; she sighed, resting her head slightly on the back of the door as she gazed into green eyes... that held for a moment before dropping. "Then this shouldn't be so hard, right?" she said gently.

"Right," Jo cleared her throat. "Right. This should be pretty easy." She looked back up at Blair.

A nod. "Ok, then. I'll see you at nine sharp." Blair started to move back into her office.

"I'll be here with bells on," Jo stated. She gathered her jacket, then stopped herself. "Hey Blair?"

Blair opened the door before it closed completely. "Yes?"

Make nice Jo. "I, uh... do you have any plans for this evening?"

Blair stood still. Surprised. No. Apprehensive, maybe, described the look on her face at the invitation. Perhaps it's a gesture to appease. Yes that's it. What else could it be... really. "I'll have to check my calendar, why?"

"Well I was just thinking, since we've agreed to get along."

Blair tilted her head curiously. "Yes?" She asked almost hopefully.

Jo kept going. "That maybe, dinner or drinks or whatever you want." She was starting to lose steam now.

Blair threw her a bone. She knew that wasn't easy, and she actually found herself quite charmed at the effort. "Business dinner." She flicked hair out of her eyes.

Right, business dinner. "Yes. That way I can ask you a few more questions about your position." Keep things in perspective, Jo.

Blair gazed at Jo through half lidded eyes. "Got it. Dinner and business." A toothy smile.

It was contagious, and Jo couldn't help but smile back in kind. "A business dinner."

Blair's eyes held and she felt a wave of pure joy run through her at the aspect of having dinner with... an old friend. And she didn't bother to analyze it because this was a day she wanted behind her any way she could manage to do that. "Strictly business." Came the breathy confirmation.

"What about seven? You name the place." Jo finished her rather open invite.

"Seven's fine Jo, and maybe you should name the place. After all, you asked me." Blair said a little coyly.

True. "Ok. I'll think about it and then text you." Jo watched as Blair checked her watch. Probably late for another meeting.

"Do that." Blair gave her a playful glare then swiftly turned and closed her office door.

Jo stood there for a moment. She was quite proud of herself she had to admit. Breaking the ice with Blair had always been something she cared little for but this was different. This was, as her friend had stated, just business.

"Looks like you've planted the seeds. Nice work, Jo."

Jo moved toward the elevators then glanced back at Blair's office door before pressing the down button. "Yeah, well... I'm tired of all the tension."

She retrieved her phone, bringing up a search engine and typing in 'Manhattan Restaurants.' The doors slid opened and she stepped into the elevator as she perused the various businesses - trying to find one that was both impressive and didn't break the bank.

---

Chapter 8 is fast on this one's heel's! Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. :)