Della Street regarded herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom and gave a small smile of satisfaction. Della was not vain, but she was honest enough to admit that the Good Lord had blessed her with more than her fair share of good looks, and tonight she felt she had made the best of them. Her chestnut curls had fallen into perfect shape after her shower, her carefully-applied make-up brought out the sparkle of her hazel-green eyes and luscious ruby lips, and her figure was enchantingly enhanced by the the red silk dress she had chosen for the occasion. The neckline was just low enough to titillate without being immodest, while the wild silk showed off her feminine attributes to perfection. "Not bad, girl," she murmured to herself as she heard her doorbell ring. With another glance in the mirror, she almost skipped down the hall to admit her caller.

"Evening, Beautiful! My word you look amazing! You'll be the most beautiful girl at the party by far."

Della gave her visitor a peck on the cheek. Paul Drake had come to collect her and take her to the Christmas party being thrown by Stewart Brent, owner of the office building where they both worked. It was nearly a year now since Della had come to work as personal secretary to the prestigious lawyer, Perry Mason. During that time she and Paul Drake had become fast friends. At first they had gone out on "dates", but it had soon become obvious, to Della at least, that there was no romantic spark between them and they had agreed to see each other as friends pure and simple, and often enjoyed spending time together. Tonight Paul had invited her as his partner to the Brent party, simply because neither was involved with anyone else at the time.

Della recalled the conversation they had had the night they decided that friendship rather than romance was the order of the day. They had been out dancing, and when Paul accompanied her back to her apartment, he had leaned in and kissed her on the lips. With a sigh she had gently pushed him away .

"I'm sorry, Paul," she remembered saying, "I enjoy our time together, but I don't feel that way about you. Can we just be friends?"

He smiled fondly. "Sure, Beautiful, but you can't blame a guy for trying. I know your heart is elsewhere."

She looked at him with a shocked expression. "Whatever are you talking about, Paul? There's nobody else. Do you think I would be spending time with you if there was? What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

"You can't fool me, kid. I've seen the way you look at him. If that's not LOVE I'm a Dutchman."

"What are you talking about? There's no-one. You're mistaken…" she faltered to a halt.

"Perry," he said quietly. "You're in love with your boss."

She blushed a deep red from her shoulders to the tips of her ears. "Don't be ridiculous," she almost shouted at him. "You don't know what you're talking about. In any case, he has a girlfriend, not that that's relevant…. I'm not…."

"It's ok, kid. I won't tell. I don't know how he can prefer that Cartwright woman when he could have the most beautiful, the most wonderful woman on this earth. But I give you my word. I won't say a word."

"How…how did you know?" she asked shyly. "Is it that obvious? Lord, do you think he knows? I would die of embarrassment."

"How did I know? Because of the way you look at him, the way you work your socks off all hours of the day and night to please him, the way you protect him from overbearing female clients, the way your face softens when you're anywhere near him. But no, I think he's oblivious. He's too tied up with that Cartwright woman to notice, not that that's much comfort to you."

Putting thoughts of that conversation out of her mind, Della collected her wrap and purse and headed for the door. "I suppose Laura will be there tonight with Perry?" observed Della

"I don't know," replied Paul. "She doesn't seem to have been around much recently. Perry's pretty tight-lipped about her when I bring the subject up. In fact, even though he's my best friend, he's not very communicative at all about the current state of his love life."

"Oh well," smiled Della. "It's none of my business. Let's go enjoy the party."

xxxxxxxxxx

Stewart Brent's palatial suite of offices was already busy with guests when Paul and Della arrived. Paul snaffled them a glass of champagne, then craning his neck into an adjoining room, he spotted Perry leaning nonchalantly against the wall, observing the other party-goers. Paul ushered Della into the next room and they greeted the lawyer.

"Della, you are looking quite...enchanting," he remarked. "That shade of red really suits you. I don't think I've ever seen you wear it before."

Della blushed, partly at the compliment and partly at the thought that her boss even noticed what she was wearing.

Paul looked around the assembled guests. "Laura not here?" he enquired, with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"No," replied his friend.

"Coming along later, is she?" pursued Paul.

"No."

That seemed to put a stop to that particular topic of conversation, and Paul put his arm round Della and asked: "Care to dance, Beautiful?"

"Why, thank you, Paul. I'd love to," she replied as they took to the small area that had been cleared for dancing. When the music finished, Paul pointed up to the ceiling above their heads. "Now would you look at that!" he said. "Seems we just happened to stop under some mistletoe." And with that he gave her a light kiss on her lips.

She patted his shoulder. "You planned that," she laughed.

"Not at all," he replied solemnly. "Look up, there's mistletoe everywhere. It's hard to avoid it."

The evening progressed pleasantly enough, with Della being much in demand as a partner since she was a very popular figure throughout the building. Unfortunately, the one man she wanted to hold her in his arms seemed determined to ignore her. Perry danced with friends and acquaintances from the various offices, but never with her, until at last as the small band struck up a romantic number, he came over and took her hand.

"May I have the pleasure, Miss Street?"

She gave him a sweet smile as they glided away to the music. He held her…not close, but not at a distance either. She relished the feel of his hand on her back, the smell of his aftershave, the way that they seemed to move in perfect harmony. All too soon the number ended, and they stood still, staring at each other, his arm still round her waist.

"Well, would you look at that," smirked Paul from across the room. "You just happen to have stopped under some mistletoe. Custom dictates that you've gotta kiss the girl, Perry".

Immediately Perry stepped back and withdrew his arm. "That's a stupid custom," he announced. "As if any girl wants to be kissed by some random guy just because it's 'the custom'." He turned and walked away, leaving Della standing alone in the middle of the room, a look of devastation on her face. Paul could see that she was near to tears and made her way towards her, but she pushed past him and headed for the ladies' restroom.

Paul turned to his best friend, grasped his arm and propelled him into a quiet side room. "Well, that was gallant, I must say," he began. "How dare you humiliate a sweet girl like Della by refusing to kiss her under the mistletoe? Leaving her standing there embarrassed with the whole room watching her. I thought you were a gentleman, Perry, but that goes beyond the pale. Perry looked at him astonished by his outburst.

"What did you want me to do, Paul?" he asked. "Kiss her in front of all those gawping faces. She's your girl. You would have been ok with that, would you?"

Now it was Paul's turn to be astonished. "She's not my girl, Perry. We're just friends who enjoy each other's company. I think of her more as a kid sister than anything else. That's why I am so mad at you for the way you treated her. The poor girl was mortified."

"I…I see," said his friend. "So you and Della aren't…?"

"No, we're not. And I think you owe her a big apology. I'll arrange to be called away on an 'emergency' and you can drive her home and take the opportunity to say you're sorry for how you treated her. If she'll go with you, that is. She might prefer a cab."

At that the band struck up again and through the open door they saw Della dancing with Stewart Brent himself. True to his word, Paul announced that an urgent call from a client meant that he had to leave the gathering early, and Perry stepped in to offer Della a ride home when the party finished. At first she was reluctant, but she finally agreed. The drive back to her apartment was awkward, with neither of them having much to say, but when the big Cadillac stopped outside Della's apartment building, Perry caught her hand as she was about to get out of the car.

"Della, we have to talk," he said quietly. "But maybe not here. May I come up to your apartment? What I have to say is important."

She gave him a weak smile as he came round to help her out of the car and followed her inside. Once in her rooms, she took off her coat and asked if he would like some coffee.

"No, Della," I don't want coffee. I want to talk to you."

She sat down on the sofa and he sat beside her. "First of all, I want to apologise to you for tonight. The mistletoe incident. The last thing I wanted was to hurt or embarrass you."

"Please, Perry,' she whispered, "I can quite understand why you didn't want to make a public exhibition of yourself by being forced into kissing your secretary in front of all your business associates."

"But that's just it, Della," he said taking her hands in his. "I wanted to kiss you more than anything in the world. But not like that. Not in front of all those people. I've wanted to kiss you for so long it was like a physical ache. I couldn't bear the thought of our first kiss being forced like that."

"Our first kiss? Perry, I…."

"I know you don't feel the same," he said, "and I will understand if you want to quit your job under the circumstances, but I can't go on pretending. While I thought that you and Paul were an item, I kept quiet because he's my best friend, but now I know that you two are not involved romantically, I can't keep quiet any longer. I love you, Della. I'm so in love with you sometimes I don't know whether I'm coming or going."

She sat quite still, looking dumbfounded.

"Please say something," he said. " Please say you accept my apology and then I'll be off and leave you in peace."

"Perry," she said again. "Do you really mean it? What about Laura?"

"Laura and I parted company weeks ago. I couldn't go on pretending any more. It wasn't fair to her when I was so in love with someone else."

"You can't love someone like me," she whispered. "I'm just a secretary. High-powered lawyers don't fall in love with their secretaries. It's meant to be the other way round."

""And is it?" he asked as he took her hand with hope in his eyes. "Is it possible that you could come to care for me too?"

"I think I've been in love with you since the first day I came to work in your office," she said shyly, "but I never thought I stood a chance."

"Oh, my darling," he said as he took her into his arms. "I love you so much. Who needs mistletoe?"And with that he kissed her deeply and passionately even though there wasn't a single sprig of mistletoe in sight.

"Merry Christmas, Perry," she murmured as he held her close.

"Merry Christmas, Della, my love."