FOUR

Jon yawned widely as he trudged down the hall from the bedroom.  As he moved, one hand raised to shove aside the waistband of his black boxer briefs, allowing him access to the bothersome itch.  Jon’s lip curled into a silent snarl of annoyance as he scratched his ass while continuing his trek.

He still hadn’t gotten used to rising early, even though the tour had been over for months.  After almost four decades of nocturnal life his body clock was set for good.  Even if he was awake before 10:00 a.m. it took at least until then for his brain to fully engage.

As he approached the heart of the apartment Jon automatically swiveled his head to the left, toward the airy room next to the terrace.  Cate was exactly where he expected her to be:  on the elliptical trainer, her body swaying rhythmically as her legs pistoned on the pedals’ oval track. 

As usual, she had headphones clamped over her ears and her eyes were trained on a thick binder of papers that covered the exercise machine’s display.  Perspiration shone on her neck and chest above the scoop neck of her purple sports bra and on her bare midsection.  Her auburn ponytail swung like a pendulum, keeping the beat of her movement.

Jon watched her for a moment, debating whether he should enter the gym to offer morning greetings.  After a minute he decided against the interruption.  He would see Cate after she finished her workout.  Jon didn’t want to break her concentration on her case file; he was pretty sure whatever she was reading was both complicated and boring.

His mind drifted hazily as Jon stood staring at his wife for another full minute.  Then he realized it was probably best he not talk to anyone at the moment.  He needed coffee before he would be able to form a coherent sentence.

Jon turned and shuffled to the kitchen, following the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.   Silently he offered up a prayer of thanks to the inventor of the automatic timer; this was one of those mornings he didn’t think he would survive the wait for a pot to brew.

He paused to scratch at a tickle on his bare, silver-furred pectoral, then ran a hand through his unruly mane before taking a mug from the tree next to the pot.  He yawned again as he decanted the dark, rich brew into his cup.

The first sip burned his tongue, as usual.  As usual, Jon swore, then tried again.  He snorted quietly as he wondered if his tongue could form a callus due to its frequent scalding, as his fingertips had grown permanent pads against the abrasions of his guitar strings.

He snorted again as he realized what a ridiculous thought that was.  Clearly he needed caffeine.

Jon stood in the kitchen for a few more minutes, sipping his coffee and staring through the wall of glass that separated the terrace from the kitchen, dining, and living rooms.  The sun was beginning to rise, painting the patio with a faint goldish hue.  It promised to be a pretty fall day.

As the caffeine went to work Jon finally found the impetus to move.  He wandered into the living room, rounding the end of one of the facing leather sofas.  Flopping down onto it with a groan, he reached for the remote and aimed it at the dark screen on the adjacent wall.  Immediately the window illuminated, filling with familiar morning show faces.  Jon sank into the couch and wrapped his hands around his mug.

Twenty minutes later Jon was informed of the day’s news headlines and weather, had seen a preview of the trendiest women’s handbags for fall, and had emptied his coffee cup.  Realizing a few more neurons were now firing in his brain, Jon heaved himself off the couch and turned back toward the kitchen.

He glanced toward the terrace again, this time his eyes settling on the far corner of the wall that jutted out perpendicularly to the glass.  He knew Cate was still in the exercise room, watching the sunrise light the terrace through that room’s floor-to-ceiling window.  She should be cooling down from her workout by now; it would soon be time for her to leave for work.

With a little smile Jon moved toward the kitchen with a task in mind.  He first refilled his coffee mug and again seared his already-tender tongue with another fresh sip.  Then he moved over to the stove, taking the stainless steel teapot from the back burner and carrying it to the sink.  Jon filled the teapot with water and returned it to the stove, then ignited the burner under it.  The soft pop and whoosh of the gas flame made him involuntarily flinch.

Next Jon wandered back to the coffee station and pulled open the door of the overhead cupboard.  He took out a metal travel mug and the wide wooden tea box.  Jon smirked at his plan; in a few minutes he would go into the gym and greet his wife with a smile, a good morning kiss, and a warm beverage.  Jon gave himself a mental pat on the back for being such a thoughtful and sensitive husband.

Cate had only recently begun drinking hot tea in the morning in place of her traditional coffee.  When she had quietly made the switch Jon had noticed, but didn’t inquire of his wife about her change in preference.  He didn’t have to. 

Over the past few months Cate had stopped drinking alcohol, weaned herself off caffeine, and restricted her diet almost exclusively to organic and unprocessed foods.  She also exercised religiously.  Jon and Cate had always been health- and fitness-conscious, but since they had decided to try for a child her attention to her diet and body had become almost compulsive.  While Jon admired her willpower and dedication to their goal, he couldn’t stifle a nagging worry about his wife’s sudden renewed self-discipline.

Jon lifted the lid of the tea chest and surveyed the assortment of flat paper envelopes inside.  He frowned slightly as he saw there were more than a couple different varieties.   Jon wasn’t sure which type of tea Cate currently favored; once the bag was removed from the wrapper there wasn’t really any way to tell them apart other than by taste.  He would have to guess.

Jon plucked a plump brownish-green packet from one of the rows and turned it over for inspection.   Immediately he knew he had the right one:  the wrapper was printed with the slogan “FertiliTea:  A Tea for Preconception.”  His brow furrowed as he pulled the bag closer to his face to read the smaller print.  “An organic tea containing vitex, red raspberry leaf, and other herbs to enhance fertility.”

Giving his head a small shake, Jon sighed softly.  A little stab of worry pierced his heart as he tossed the tea bag onto the countertop, then closed the chest’s lid.  Though he knew he should let Cate deal with her anxieties by whatever means she needed, he just couldn’t help himself.  He hated to see her struggle.

“It’s just a tea bag, Dummy.” Jon mumbled the chastisement to himself as he picked up the tea chest and returned it to its place in the cupboard.   He pried the lid off the travel mug before ripping the paper cover away and dropping the tea bag into the empty metal cylinder.  He crumbled the FertiliTea label into a tight ball before tossing it aside, a symbolic gesture of his determination to put his concern aside.  This morning he wanted to be the sweet and loving husband, not the overprotective worrywart.

Within a minute the kettle was boiling, its escaping steam filling the kitchen with a shrill whistle.  Jon carried the travel mug over to the stove and flipped off the burner before pouring the bubbling liquid into the cup.  He stared idly at the submerged tea bag as he raised and lowered it by its string to steep it in the boiling water.

Once the liquid had turned a reddish-amber Jon added a dipper of organic honey from the pot on the counter and stirred briefly.  Then he held the open-topped mug to his nose and sniffed.  The tea didn’t smell awful, so he took a cautious sip.  He grimaced; the tea was much more bitter than it smelled.  Considering Cate had always drank her coffee practically half-diluted by chocolate-caramel creamer Jon wasn’t sure how she stomached this stuff. 

Making another face, Jon added another large dipper of honey to the brew and stirred, then warily sipped at the beverage again.  This time it wasn’t as bad.  With a little shrug Jon shoved the travel cap on, being sure to catch the tea bag’s string in the seal.  Then he took one more swallow of his coffee to rid his palate of the unpleasant aftertaste of Cate’s morning beverage.

That done, Jon picked up the mug and headed for the gym.  His bitter-tea grimace was replaced by an amused smirk as he saw Cate through the open door before he stepped into the room. 

She had finished her workout on the elliptical trainer and dismounted the machine.  Her back to the doorway, she was bent over at the waist, her nose touching her knees and her arms circled around her calves, stretching out her glutes and hamstrings.  Her position provided Jon an enticing view of her shapely derriere, sheathed minimally in black spandex boy-cut yoga shorts .  And as a bonus, the little shorts had ridden up with her movement, baring the bottoms of Cate’s cheeks to Jon’s approving stare.

“Well Good Morning to Me,” Jon drawled as he leaned against the door frame.  He gave a low wolf-whistle at his wife before grinning broadly.

Still bent over in her stretch, Cate moved her face to peer around her knee.  Her messy ponytail dangled down past her head and she gave him an upside-down smile.  “Hey!  Didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

“I’m a busy guy. Got places to go, people to see,” Jon joked.  He raised the warm metal mug in his hand.  “Brought you somethin’.”  The ghost of his concern vanished as he chuckled at Cate’s grin in response.  She seemed to be in a bright mood this morning.

“Awww, Baby.  My tea.  That’s sweet of you.”  Her stretch completed, Cate levered her torso upright and raised her arms above her head.  Interlocking her fingers, she stretched her arms upward and raised onto her tiptoes.

Jon’s eyes automatically roved over Cate’s half-naked body as she stretched.  He almost let out another whistle as he evaluated her physique. 

The muscles of her back were clearly defined, flexed by her current position and banded by her purple sports bra.  Though her back was to him, Jon could see the outer ridges of Cate’s abdominal muscles along her trim sides.  Her ass was taut and round under the little black shorts.  Her legs were toned and smooth.  Her summer tan had not quite fully faded, and her body shone in the morning light, slicked by a light sheen of perspiration remaining from her workout.

Jon nodded slowly in appreciation of his wife’s glowing body.  Regardless of her motivation, Cate’s new diet and exercise regimen were certainly beneficial to her figure.  She looked fantastic.

Cate finished her stretch and relaxed, then turned to face Jon.  She gave him a little smirk before moving toward him.  Jon grinned back, knowing she had enjoyed displaying herself for him.  He held out the mug as she approached, presenting his Thoughtful Husband offering.

“Morning, Baby.”

Cate’s smirk turned devilish as she stopped in front of her husband.  “I’m glad you’re up.  I was gonna come wake you.”  She reached for Jon’s middle, grasping the elastic waistband of his briefs and tugging lightly, then slipping her hand inside.

“Wha.. WHOA!”  Jon’s eyes widened with surprise at her bold movement.  Involuntarily he bent at the waist, automatically seeking to protect his most sensitive area from her unexpected grope.  Remembering he was holding a hot beverage, he stretched his arm out away from his body.  “Jesus! Cate!”

Cate giggled and stepped closer to Jon, reaching further down to cup him in her hand.  “Sorry, Baby.  Did I scare you?”

“Yeah!”  Jon’s surprise was still evident in his exclamation, though his posture straightened.  Despite his shock, he felt his dick stir in response to its sudden attention.  “Uh…”

Cate wiggled her fingers inside Jon’s briefs, gently kneading the two soft lumps around which they were curled.  “You’re not really a morning person, are you, Babe?”  She moved closer, slipping her free arm up around Jon’s neck and molding her moist body against his side.

Jon groaned softly as his arm automatically slipped around Cate’s waist.  “But… I brought your tea…” he protested weakly.  Though his wife was now in his one-armed embrace he still held his cup hand out wide of his body, forgetting the hot beverage was contained by a lid.

Cate giggled and leaned up to nuzzle at Jon’s neck.  “That’s very sweet of you, Baby.  Thank you.”  She nipped lightly and heard his little squeak in response.  “But I’m not really in the mood for tea at the moment.”  Her lips traveled downward, along the ridge of his collarbone.

“Uhh... Yeah.  I can… tell.”  Jon sucked in a breath as Cate released his balls and circled her fingers around his awakening shaft.  He looked dazedly at the mug in his left hand, realizing there was no place to set it within his reach.  He hadn’t even made it all the way through the workout room door.  “Cate… uhh… Time Out?  I need to set this mug down.”

“Time Out?”  Cate raised her head from Jon’s chest and grinned evilly.  “Okay, but you only got thirty seconds.”  With that she slipped her hand from Jon’s briefs, being sure to drag her palm hard against his semi-rigid cock.  She stepped nimbly out of Jon’s arms and gave him an expectant look, one brow raised.

Jon stared at Cate, his mouth hanging open as he tried to comprehend what the Hell was happening.  It wasn’t like this was the first time she had wanted to have morning sex, but it had been a damned long time since that had happened.  And she had never been this aggressive before.  

“Tick Tock, Jonny.”

“Oh.”  Jon started at her playful prod.  He quickly moved into the gym and to the nearest corner, where he set Cate’s mug of tea on a small table.  He felt her move up behind him, then her arms were around his waist and her warm body was pressed against his back.

“Christ, Cate… what got into you this morning?”  Jon chuckled, his arms crossing over hers around his middle. 

“In a couple minutes… You.”  Cate’s sultry purr was not-so-subtly demanding.

“You wanna go in the bedroom?”

“No.  Right here’s just fine.  No need to waste time.”

“What?”  Jon half-laughed with the question as he turned in Cate’s arms to face her.  He gave her a bemused smirk as he gazed down into her pink-flushed face.  The desire roiling in her sapphire eyes made his cock jump.  “Baby, this isn’t like you.  I’m not complaining, mind you, but...”

“It’s time, Jonny.  Now.  This morning.”

Suddenly comprehension smacked Jon between the eyes.  Of course. 

Cate had been scrupulously documenting her body’s every detail for the past few months.  Every morning when she awakened she took her temperature and recorded it on her iPad.  At first Jon had been amused that there was an App for that, but when she explained its purpose he understood.  Using the patterns of her basal body temperature she could predict her most fertile days.

Apparently this was one of them.

“You’re ovulating?”

Cate nodded vigorously and pulled at the waist of Jon’s briefs.  “Come on, Baby.  Do me.  I gotta go to work.”  

THREE

Cate growled in frustration as again the dark thought escaped into her mind.  Enough, she chided herself sternly.  No more.  Not tonight.  

She scrubbed angrily at her eyes, wiping away the moisture that dotted her lashes before blinking them open and taking a deep breath.   She was so tired of feeling helpless.

“Fifteen minutes,” Jon announced, strolling back into the room.  He smiled down at his wife, who was now occupying his favorite position on the sofa.  “That okay?” He perched on the arm of the couch and reached out to ruffle her hair.

“Sure,” Cate nodded unenthusiastically.  It wasn’t like her appetite had returned in the few minutes since Jon had left the room.  “Oh, sorry…” She pulled herself upright on the sofa.  “I took your spot.”

“No, stay right there,” Jon ordered.  He slid off his perch and circled the cocktail table, stopping in front of the other end of the couch.  With a little grin he settled on the leather cushion, then slid sideways toward Cate.  “We can share.”

Cate gave him a quizzical half-smile.  “Share the spot? Or share the couch?”

“The spot.  We have to get really close, though.”  Jon sidled closer to his wife and slipped an arm behind her, around her waist.  He chuckled sexily and nuzzled at her ear.  “This okay?”

“Mmm Hmm.”  Cate let herself slouch against the back of the couch again, her tired body relaxing into the supple leather.  Jon followed her movement, bracing his shoulder against the sofa back as he lowered his mouth to Cate’s.  She turned her head to accept his kiss, sighing softly at the contact.  Jon gently caressed her lips with his, his heart twinging as he tasted her sadness. 

When he pulled back, Jon gave Cate a long, searching look.  She met his gaze and he could see her silent plea not to ask, not to bring up the topic they had already spent countless hours discussing.

“So…” Jon gave Cate a tender smile, then pushed himself upright to sit beside her.  “I know you’ve been working your ass off, and today kinda sucked.  I thought maybe tonight we’d just unwind, veg out on the couch for awhile, have a glass of wine, maybe take a bubble bath…”  He sing-songed the plan in his honey-whiskey croon.

Cate smiled tiredly, but shook her head.  “I really should work.  I’m meeting with the Civil Attorney on Thursday, and…”

“And you will be perfectly prepared, as always.” Jon interrupted her.  “But you can do it tomorrow.  Not tonight.  You deserve a night off.”

Cate sighed heavily.  “Jon, you don’t understand…”

“Yes, I do understand.  I’ve been married to a Fed long enough to know the rhythm of these things.  You’re not far enough into this case yet to have to have the whole deal laid out for the U.S. Attorney.”  Jon gave his wife a stern look, his brows raised.  “I know you can afford to take a night off, Cate.  Maybe spend it with your husband?”

Cate felt the sting of guilt at Jon’s last sentence.  She stared back at him, watching his beautiful blue eyes glitter in the firelight.  In those indigo pools she saw his need to comfort her, to be her protector and caretaker.

She had to let him be what he needed to be.  Even if she didn’t want to admit that that’s exactly what she needed from him right now.

Cate mustered a smile.  “Well, since you put it that way… Spending the evening with my husband sounds much more appealing than plowing through spreadsheets.”

Jon chuckled, relieved at her acquiescence.  “Thanks… I think.”  He leaned forward and reached for the wine bottle on the cocktail table.  “Now, let me pour you a glass and we’ll toast to… something.”

“Jon, no.”  Cate shook her head as she protested his offer.  “You know I’m not drinking.”

Jon froze, then sighed softly.  He turned back to Cate, reaching for her hand.  He gave her a patient smile, weighing his words carefully before speaking. 

“Cate, I know you’re trying to do everything right.  By the book.  And I love you for that, for all the sacrifices you’re making.  But Baby… one glass of red wine ain’t gonna hurt.  Dr. Seuss told you that at our last appointment.  Hell, she even told you it could be beneficial, remember?  You know, good for the heart, helps you relax, relieves stress…”

“But Jon…”

“Cate.”

The quiet authority in his voice stopped Cate’s argument cold.  She knew Jon was right; all the research she had done on lifestyle factors affecting fertility supported his argument, as did the advice of her own doctor.  Cate also knew her cold-turkey abstinence from alcohol, caffeine, artificial sweeteners, and a long list of foods probably had only minimally improved her reproductive health.   But she was going to control the factors she could when it came to her body.  It was what she had to do, even if only to soothe her worries.

 “Baby?”

Let him comfort you.  Cate sighed softly, then gave Jon a little smile and a shrug of acceptance.  “Okay.  But just half a glass.”

Jon grinned and pulled her hand to his lips for a quick kiss.  “Deal.”  He settled Cate’s hand on her abdomen and gave it a pat before reaching for the bottle.  He half-filled the empty wine glass, then added another pour to his own.

“Okay, time for a toast before the food gets here,” Jon grinned as a low rumble emitted from his midsection.  Cate chuckled quietly, sitting up straight on the couch and accepting her wine from Jon.

“What are we toasting?”  Cate raised her glass expectantly.

“Well…” Jon turned toward her, lifting his own glass.  “I think we should toast ourselves.  It ain’t easy being us.  Especially lately.  But we do a damned good job of it, so we deserve a little recognition.” He gave her a cheeky smirk.  “Fuck everybody else.  To the Bongiovis!”

Cate’s laugh warmed Jon’s heart.  His smile gentled as he saw a flash of sparkle in her eyes and a slight flush of pink in her cheeks.  He hadn’t heard that beautiful sound enough lately.

“Hear, hear,” Cate agreed, raising her glass to bump against Jon’s.  “To us.”  She giggled softly as she raised the wine glass to her lips and took a long sip.  Cate closed her eyes as she held the wine in her mouth for a long moment, savoring the rich flavors.   It was delicious.

“This is nice,” she observed quietly after swallowing the ruby liquid.  Her eyes still closed, Cate slumped back against the couch, the supple leather creaking softly as it yielded to her weight.  She swirled the wine in her glass before holding it to her nose and breathing in the bouquet.

“I thought you’d like it.”  Jon watched Cate enjoy the wine for a moment, then set his glass on the cocktail table.  Glancing at Cate’s face to be sure her eyes were still closed, Jon’s hand moved behind him to slide the slim, flat box from its concealment in his back pocket.  He placed the little white-ribboned blue parcel gently on Cate’s tummy.

Cate’s eyes fluttered open as she felt the item rest on her middle.  She peered down at her waist, her lips parting with surprise as she spied the box.  “Jon…”

Jon cut off her protest before it began.  “Shhh.  None of that ‘Jon, you shouldn’t have!’ bullshit.”  His mouth curled into a crooked smirk as he mimicked her usual chastisement.  “It makes me happy to buy My Girl pretty things.  So sue me.”

“Christ, Jon.  If I did sue you I wouldn’t get anything, the way you throw your money at Tiffany.”  Cate’s sarcastic tease was softened by the affection in her tone.

“Yeah, yeah.  Open it, already.”  Jon reached out to take Cate’s wine glass from her hand.  He set it on the table beside his, hardly glancing away from her face.  He loved watching her expression when she opened those little blue boxes.

He wasn’t disappointed.  Cate’s lips curved into a soft smile as she tugged at the ribbon and carefully pried open the box.  Again her blue eyes flashed with a sparkle of warmth as they widened again, then blinked as she gazed down at the simple silver necklace nestled against the white satin lining.

“It’s nothing much,” Jon warned, almost guiltily.  “Not from one of the big cases in the back of the store.  Just a little bauble that caught my eye.  And my heart.”

“Oh, Babe…” Cate sighed her reply, her lashes fluttering against the happy sparkle of moisture in her eyes.  “It’s gorgeous.”  She brushed a fingertip gently across the flat, heart-shaped platinum tag, feeling the grooves of the scrolled inscription under her touch.  “Dream a little dream,” she read in a half-whisper.

“Yeah.” Jon reached up to hook a gentle finger under Cate’s chin.  She raised her glittering gaze to his and his heart melted.  “Just a little something to remind you to hold on to that dream.  Our dream.”

A silvery tear slipped down Cate’s cheek as she saw the concern in Jon’s beautiful blue eyes, thinly masked by his smile.  She nodded silently, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

“We’ll get through this, Cate.  It just takes a little time, a little patience.  And a little faith.”  Jon felt his own eyes moisten with his words.  He quickly leaned forward to touch his lips to Cate’s, not wanting her to see his emotion.  

He kissed her tenderly and nuzzled her cheek as he blinked away his tears, then pulled back.  Jon gently brushed away a tear from his wife's cheek with his thumb and smiled.

“I…”  Cate swallowed hard and returned Jon’s smile, then sighed wearily.  “I know.  It’s just … some days it’s hard to see the ray of hope, you know?”

“I know.  That’s why we have to stick together. Pull each other up when one of us gets down.”  Jon chuckled quietly.  “Teamwork, Baby.”

Jon’s pep-talk made Cate giggle softly.  She looked again at the ornate pendant.  “It’s perfect,” she mused softly. 

“And this one you can actually wear,” Jon pointed out.  He reached for the box and carefully removed the necklace from its mount.  “Unlike most of the stuff I buy you, you don’t have an excuse for this one.”  He grinned at his tease as he pried apart the clasp and separated the two ends of the chain, then held it up expectantly.

Cate laughed quietly and pushed herself half-upright.  She swept her long hair aside with one hand, pulling it up so Jon could circle the chain around her neck.  “That’s true.  This one’s not flashy.  I can get away with wearing it at the office.”  She felt the weight of the pendant settle against her chest as Jon secured the clasp and pulled his hands back.  Cate released her hair and moved her hand to touch the silver charm resting over her heart.

“Well, I hope you’ll wear it all the time,” Jon observed gently, reaching up to cover Cate’s hand with his, his own finger brushing over the platinum tag. 

“I think I just might,” Cate agreed softly.  She gazed deep into Jon’s eyes for a long moment, reading his thoughts.  Her smile turned melancholy as she saw for a fleeting moment her own dark dread mirrored deep in his soul.  Then it was gone, masked by affection.

Cate reached up to lay a palm against Jon’s cheek.  “Thank you, Baby.  I love it.  I love you.”

Jon grinned and turned his face to press a kiss against her palm.  “Welcome.”  He reached up to give her hand a squeeze, then pull it away from her face and deposit it in her lap.  “So, you want me to turn on some music or something?”

“If you want.”  Cate sighed and slid back into her slouch, groaning softly as the couch cushioned her tired muscles.  “Honestly, I’m good with the quiet.”

As if on cue the intercom chimed, announcing a visitor at the concierge’s desk.

Jon chortled as he stood.  “Shit, that was fast.  And so much for quiet.”  He strolled into the foyer and and pressed the button before speaking into the small intercom beside the front door.  “Rudy, could you bring it up, please?  The check and tip are already taken care of.”

“Yes, sir.  Right away,” came the concierge’s courteous answer.

“Thanks.”

Cate  pushed herself up, struggling a bit to extract herself from the comfort of the deep sofa.  “I’ll set the table,” she announced.

“Okay.  Take the wine,” Jon directed, nodding at the bottle and glasses on the table.

“Got it.” Cate stooped to pick up first the glasses, then the bottle, then headed for the kitchen.  Once there she set the items on the massive granite-topped island before taking plates and utensils from their places in the cupboards and drawers. 

She had hardly finished the task when Jon appeared with a large, delicious-smelling white paper bag.  Despite Cate’s lack of appetite her stomach rumbled in response to the olfactory stimulation.

Jon grinned at the sound.  “Told ya you need to eat.”

“Yeah, well… Nico’s is hard to resist.”

“So give in. Yield to temptation.”  Jon set the bag on the counter and extracted from it a quartet of food containers.  Together he and Cate assembled their meal, filling plates with pasta, chicken piccata, sautéed mushrooms, and roasted root vegetables.  Then they moved to the high-backed stools at the end of the kitchen island.

“A little dinner music would be nice, yeah?” Jon asked as he set his plate on one of the placemats Cate had laid out in preparation for their meal.  He took a step toward the panel that controlled the apartment's intercom and sound system.

“Sure.”  Cate smiled gently as she settled on her chair, knowing what Jon’s selection would be.  In seconds the familiar strains of piano and bass and horns drifted softly through the room, preceding the unmistakable voice of Mr. Sinatra.

“Now we got ourselves a proper Eye-Talian dinnah.” Jon joked as he slid onto his stool, exaggerating his usually-dormant North Jersey accent.

Cate giggled softly, taking another sip of her wine.  “You really are pure Goombah, aren’t you?”

Jon leaned over to press a kiss to his wife’s cheek, his heart warming at her playful tease.  “Me?  Fuhgeddaboudit.”  He gave her a wink and a grin before picking up his fork and spoon.

They ate slowly, making small talk and avoiding the topics of work and doctors.  Cate gradually relaxed, her frustration and worry diminishing as the food and drink took effect, nourishing her tired body and lifting her grey mood.  Jon’s gentle smile remained as he watched his wife’s transformation from melancholy to calm.

“You want a refill?” Jon asked as he tipped the wine bottle to his glass.  “I can open another.”

Cate shook her head as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.  “Thanks, but no.  One was enough.”

Jon nodded, knowing not to push.  He emptied the bottle into his glass and took a sip before sliding off his chair.  He reached for Cate’s plate, stacking it on top of his before carrying it to the far end of the kitchen and setting it in the deep sink.

Cate watched him with a little smile playing across her lips.  “You’re gonna wash those, aren’t you?” she teased gently.

Jon turned and gave her a smirk.  “Just because I wash dishes at the Kitchen doesn’t mean I have to do it here too, does it?” he protested playfully.

“Well, you’re pretty good at it.  All that practice pays off.”

Jon dropped his chin and gave Cate a devilish grin.  He stalked slowly across the kitchen toward her.  “Know what else practice makes perfect at?”

Cate giggled quietly.  “What?”

Stopping next to Cate’s seat, he pushed at its arm, swiveling the high-backed barstool so that she faced him.  He leaned in close, until his mouth hovered over hers.  He felt her breath stop and her lips pucker in anticipation of his kiss.  Jon chuckled huskily but didn’t move, teasing her with his closeness.  Then he drew back, a sexy smirk painting his handsome features.

“Dancing.”  He answered his own question in a velvety croon, reaching for Cate’s hand.  He stepped back, tugging lightly at her hand and urging her to join him.

Cate sighed softly and slipped off her chair, unable to resist her husband’s silent invitation.  Though the day’s events hardly made her feel like dancing, she had no objections to letting Jon hold her. 

She stepped in close, resting her left hand on his shoulder as he pulled her right hand to his chest.  Jon’s arm slid around Cate’s waist, guiding her hips against his.  His cheek brushed against hers as they began to sway slowly to Frank’s quiet croon.  She smiled as she heard Jon's voice soft in her ear.

Night and Day

You are the one

Only you ‘neath the moon

Or under the sun

Whether near to me or far

No matter, Darling, where you are

I think of you

Night and Day

They revolved slowly in place, their bodies moving effortlessly as one and their hearts speaking silently to each other, sharing what they couldn’t express with mere words.  Cate blinked back a tear as she once again felt Jon’s devotion, in his touch and his breath and his heartbeat.  With his silent reassurance she felt her hope return, that someday soon there would be another little heart to share in their love.

Jon felt Cate’s body melt against his as they moved.  He smiled and stopped his quiet croon, rubbing his cheek gently against hers.  

“Tomorrow will be better, Baby,” he whispered.  “Promise.”

Cate smiled gratefully and nodded, then turned her cheek to his shoulder.  She pulled her hand free from Jon’s and slid her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.  He responded in kind, pressing a kiss against her hair.

They danced on in silence, holding each other close.

TWO

Cate blew out a long breath, willing herself to relax.  She shifted uncomfortably on the vinyl-covered table, then stared moodily at the ceiling.  The flimsy paper covering her rustled with her movement.

“Just a minute more, Cate,” the calm voice reassured her.  “Then we’ll be done.”

Cate snorted softly.  “Until next week, you mean?”

Dr. Seuss chuckled quietly.  “Hopefully longer.  I’m running everything I can think of in this panel.  We should get some answers this time.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before, Doc.”

The gynecologist smirked as she picked up a trio of long, cotton-tipped swabs.  “I know.  But hey, occasionally we hit the right number when we throw the dart at the diagnostic board.”

Cate couldn’t help but smile at Dr. Seuss’ gentle sarcasm.  “Gave up on the Magic Eight Ball, did ya?”

“Uh huh.  Damned thing kept telling me everybody had gonorrhea.”   Dr. Seuss extracted the swabs and, one by one, swiped their soiled cotton heads carefully across the glass slides on the steel tray at her side.  She smiled as she heard Cate’s quiet laugh in response.  “Okay, we’re done.”

“Thank God,” Cate sighed.  She grunted softly as she felt the gynecologist remove metal speculum , then pull the drape over her knees.  Slipping her feet from the stirrups, Cate slowly pushed herself up on the exam table until she was sitting.

“I know, it’s not fun.  But given your history of abnormal paps, I just wanted to do one more exam to be sure we’re all clear.”  Dr. Seuss gave Cate a motherly smile.  “Everything looks normal, I didn’t note any irregularities during the pelvic.”

“Good.” Cate nodded down at the cotton ball taped to the bend of her elbow.  “And that gallon of blood I’ve given you over the past couple days?”

“Will tell us if you’re ovulating normally.”  Dr. Seuss reached for the electronic tablet that rested on a nearby counter.  She tapped a few buttons and quickly scanned the display, brushing her finger lightly over the screen as she read.  “You’ve been diligent in charting your menstrual cycle and recording your basal body temperature, as well as documenting intercourse.   In clinical detail.”   The doctor paused and looked up at Cate, giving her a little wink.  “I’d expect nothing less from someone in your line of work.”

Cate shrugged, smiling sheepishly.  “Well, information is the most valuable weapon.”

“Well put,” Dr. Seuss chortled.  “From what I see here, it appears you and your husband are doing everything right.   So we just need to figure out where the glitch is.”

“Glitch, huh?” Cate picked at the tape on her arm, freeing the cotton ball and peeling it away from her skin to reveal a small red puncture wound over the shadow of a vein.  “Is that the technical term now?”

Dr. Seuss detected the note of bitterness in her patient’s half-playful reply.  “Cate, though it may seem counterintuitive, if these tests show something it’s actually a good thing.  They will tell us what to treat.  That’s a step in the right direction.”

“And if the tests don’t show any abnormalities?”

“Then we’ll talk about the next step.”  The doctor reached out to pat her patient’s knee.  “But one thing at a time.  For now, you and Jon just keep doing what you’re doing.  Sometimes practice really does make perfect.”  She gave Cate a reassuring smile.

Cate replied with a wry smirk.  “Even for us Old Folks, huh?”

“Yep.  Even for you Old Farts.”  Dr. Seuss chuckled, her heart warming as a smile lit her patient’s face.  It was the first genuine one she had seen from Cate in some time.  “Listen.  I know it’s hard, but try not to worry.  I’ll see you and Jon on Friday, then we’ll know what’s what.”

“You’ll have his test results then too?”

“I should, assuming he submitted his sample today?”  The doctor looked back at her tablet, tapping the screen until a calendar appeared.

Cate nodded.  “He did.  He called me as he was leaving the clinic this morning.  Complained about the porn.”

Dr. Seuss grinned.  “Of course he did.  I’ll pass on his concerns to Dr. Klein.”

Cate sighed and her smile softened.  “Thanks, Jane.  I just… it’s just been a rough few months.”

“I know, Cate.  This can be a frustrating process, especially for women trying for their first child.”  Dr. Seuss set the tablet aside and rose from her perch on a roller-footed stool.  “You’re a Cop.  Try to think of it like one of your investigations:  We have to look at the clues and and the prime suspects.  Follow all the leads, gather all the evidence.” 

She gave Cate a cheeky grin and a wink.  “And hopefully, at the end of the process you get to squeeze something the size of a basketball out of an opening the size of your fist.”

Cate giggled as she involuntarily winced.  “Gee, thanks Doc.  Now that you put it that way…”

The doctor laughed softly and offered her hand to her patient.  “Hang in there, Cate.  We’ll know more come Friday.  Now get dressed and go home to that handsome husband of yours.”

Cate nodded and clasped her hand around the older woman’s, giving it a little squeeze along with a firm shake.  “Thanks, Jane.”

She watched the doctor exit the room, closing the heavy door behind her.  Then with a weary sigh Cate slid off the exam table and reached for her clothes.

*****

Jon looked up in surprise at the loud click of the front door opening.  He dropped the magazine onto his lap and craned his neck to look over the back of the couch toward the foyer.

“Hey, you.” Jon gave his wife a warm smile when she stepped into view.  “Thought you were gonna call me when you were on your way?”

“Oh…”  Cate’s shoulders slumped as she sighed heavily.  “Goddammit.  I’m sorry, Jon.  I forgot.”  She dropped her heavy satchel on the floor next to the hall tree and tossed her keys on the small marble-topped table before turning to give him an apologetic half-smile.  “I don’t know where my head is today.”

Jon tossed his magazine on the cocktail table and pushed himself up from the leather couch.  Rounding the end of the sofa, he stopped and held out his arms.  “C’mere,” he ordered gently.

Silently Cate crossed the room to him, her gaze cast downward and her expression glum.  She didn’t look up when she reached him, letting her husband enfold her in his embrace.  Cate’s arms slid around Jon’s waist and her eyes closed as her cheek settled against his chest.  She sighed again as she hugged him tightly.

“Everything okay?”  Jon murmured against Cate’s hair before dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. 

Cate nodded slowly, her cheek brushing against the soft knit of Jon’s sweater.  “I guess so.”

“Your appointment with Jane?” Jon prodded gently.  He knew Cate probably didn’t feel great after having yet another intimate exam, but it wasn’t her physical discomfort he was concerned about.

“Fine.” Cate mumbled.  “Nothing out of the ordinary.  Just more smears and another pelvic. Plus more blood work.”  She chuckled half-heartedly.  “I feel like a damned pincushion after these past few days.”

Jon chortled softly and gave her another squeeze.  “Sorry, Baby.  You’re definitely getting the worst end of this deal.”

His comforting rumble under Cate’s ear made her smile.  “Fuck.  I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be a whiner.”

“S’okay.  You’re entitled.”  Jon pulled back a bit as Cate raised her head to look at him for the first time since her arrival.  His heart twinged as he saw the dark circles under her tired, slate-grey eyes.  Cate’s eyes had always been the portal to her soul, the one place she couldn’t hide her emotions from him.  It had been a long time since they had swirled and sparkled deep sapphire with contentment.

Jon ducked his head to brush his nose against hers and gave her a sweet smile.  “Let me order up something from Nico’s.  I’ll have ‘em rush it.”

“I’m not really hungry.  But go ahead and get something for yourself.”  Cate pulled a hand from Jon’s waist and raised it to his chest.  Her gaze dropped to her hand as she idly caressed the soft fabric of his sweater with her fingertips.  “You shouldn’t have waited on me to eat.”

“I’m ordering something for both of us,” Jon replied firmly.  “I know you’re tired, but you gotta eat.”  He raised his hand to cover Cate’s against his chest.  “How about chicken piccata?  With angel hair? And a side of those roasted vegetables you like?”

Cate nodded slowly, then raised her face to Jon’s.  She saw the concern in his expression and gave him a little smile.  Her appetite had left her as she waited in Dr. Seuss’ exam room, but she knew Jon would just worry more if she refused his offer.

“Actually, that sounds good.”

“That’s My Girl.  I’ll call now.”  Jon brushed his lips across Cate’s and gave her hand a little squeeze, then stepped away and strode for the kitchen.

Cate sighed softly and wandered around the end of the sofa.  She paused to kick off her shoes, then sank down onto the soft leather with a weary groan.  She stared blankly ahead for a moment, not really seeing her surroundings as once again her mind drifted to the place she didn’t want it to go.

Dammit, you HAVE to stop it, Cate silently chastised herself.  Jane’s right:  there’s nothing more you can do right now.  Quit worrying and stick to The Plan.  She snorted with frustration and gave her head a toss, as if to physically dislodge the dark thoughts from her brain.

Cate closed her eyes and took a deep breath, held it for a second, then slowly released it as she counted to ten.  She repeated the calming technique twice more, then opened her eyes.  She sat still as gradually her senses tuned in to her surroundings.  A little smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she noticed the evidence that Jon had been waiting for her.

A fire crackled quietly in the fireplace, warming the big room more with its light than with its heat.  Flickering flames mirrored the fire’s dance on the wicks of candles Jon had set out on the cocktail table’s slate top.  Next to the tray of candles sat an open bottle of Pinot Noir and two glasses, one half-filled and the other empty.  Cate chuckled softly to herself as she noticed the ghostly print of Jon’s lower lip against the rim of the charged glass, dimly visible in the room’s soft light.

Cate heard Jon’s voice from the kitchen, calm and smooth as he placed their dinner order.  She smiled in spite of herself.  Even though they had now spent years together that voice still got to her, still made her swoon.

With another quiet sigh Cate let her gaze wander around the room.  It was almost pristinely tidy; the cleaning staff had come in today.  There was no remaining evidence of the weekend visit from Jon’s rambunctious younger sons.   Jake and Romeo often left a path of minor destruction in their wake, usually in the form of sticky fingerprints, discarded juice pouches, broken crayon fragments, stray Lego blocks, and crumbs of various, often unidentifiable, varieties.

Cate smiled wistfully.  The best part of having the boys here was Jon’s reaction to them.  Nothing melted her heart like watching her husband with his children.  And nothing broke her heart like the sadness in his eyes when he had to say goodbye to them after returning them to their mother.

Nothing except the thought of not being able to give Jon what he wanted more than anything:  Another child.

She squinted her eyes shut against her threatening tears.

ONE

FALL

Jon slumped against the back of the sleek leather couch, panting softly.  He grimaced involuntarily as a light spasm rolled through his middle, causing his muscles to clench and his limbs to tremble.  With a quiet groan Jon rested one moist hand on his bare abdomen while his other hand tightened around the warm plastic cup in his grip.

He let himself rest for a brief moment, his cloudy blue eyes slowly focusing on the images in front of him.  Taut, naked flesh gyrated in a carnal frenzy on the wide plasma screen.  Throaty sighs and lusty moans filled his ears, channeled through the headphones clamped over his unruly blonde shag. 

Jon regarded the porno for a long moment, then turned his gaze to the receptacle in his hand.  “We gotta stop meeting like this,” he mumbled at the plastic specimen cup, the corner of his mouth curling into a wry smirk. 

He snorted at his stupid humor as he carefully rested the cup on the smooth leather-covered cushion before picking up with the same hand the green plastic lid that lay nearby.  Jon daintily placed the lid on the cup and gave it a slow turn, feeling the grooves on the rim of the cup catch their mates on the plastic cap.

Confident that the specimen cup was now semi-securely covered, Jon again picked it up and leaned to set it on the small glass-topped table at the couch’s side.  With another weary groan he settled back into his slouch, staring for another long minute at the television before reaching up to yank the headphones from his ears.  Jon tossed the headset aside and blew out a long breath.

Turning his head to again glance at the cup, Jon gave himself a mental prod.  He knew the drill; time was a factor.  He couldn’t sit here all morning and bask in the afterglow of his self-pleasure.  On the other side of the wall a lab tech waited to analyze the product of his morning’s exertion.

Sighing heavily, Jon heaved himself forward to sit upright on the edge of the sofa.  He pulled a handful of paper towels from the dispenser at his feet and crumpled them in his hand before swiping them over his lap, dabbing away the majority of the stickiness.  Then he stood and shuffled the few steps over to the small sink, his t-shirt drifting down over his stomach and his unfastened jeans sliding a little further down his thighs as he moved. 

Jon stuffed the soiled paper towels into the trash can and turned on the tap, then reached for a handful of fresh towels.  Those he dipped under the water and squeezed out before applying them to his groin.  Jon carefully cleaned and dried himself before zipping, snapping, and buckling himself back into proper order.  Finally, he scrubbed his hands with soap and water, then dragged his moist palms across his stubbly cheeks.  He stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment before continuing the ritual.

Hygiene taken care of, Jon stepped back over to the small table and picked up the specimen cup.  He tightened the lid, then double-checked the patient number inscribed on the cup’s lid and label.  Jon smirked at the irony; in this facility his status and money and fame didn’t mean a damned thing.  In this place, he was literally just a number.

Jon carried the cup across the room and set it on the wide ledge under the small frosted-glass sliding window.  He jabbed his finger against the square button next to the glass and waited.  He knew he didn’t have to interact with the people on the other side of the window; this clinic had strict anonymity procedures in place for those who wished to exercise them.  But for some reason they didn’t suit Jon, even though anonymity was one thing he frequently craved.  Ever since he had started coming to this place he felt a need to interact with somebody here. 

The familiar voice floated through the intercom.  “Thank you, Mr. B.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Doris.  As usual.”  Jon chuckled quietly at his pun, waiting for the nurse practitioner’s usual cheeky reply.

“Well, we aim to please.  All we ask is that you aim too, please.”

“Mission accomplished, Doris.  All clear in here.”  Jon grinned as he stepped away from the window.  His gaze turned back to the television where the now-silent orgy continued in high definition.  “No offense, Darlin’… but hope this is our last meeting.”

“None taken, Mr. B.  Same here.”

The warmth in the nurse’s reply made Jon’s smile soften.  “Thanks.  Fingers crossed, okay?”

“You got it.  Have a nice afternoon.”

“You too, Doris.”

Jon strode past the television, pausing to lift his jacket from the hook next to the door before pulling it open and stepping out into the hallway.  He squinted against the bright artificial light as he slipped his arms into the leather sleeves, then reached into the pocket for his sunglasses.  Unlike the room he had just exited, there was no need for mood lighting in this part of the clinic.

Slipping his shades over his eyes and tugging his black cap down over his hair, Jon exited the suite.  He slipped into the elevator car in the lobby and stood silent as it descended to ground floor.  As he strode across the lobby Jon pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping the speed-dial button while he pushed through the revolving glass door into the bright morning sunshine.

*****

Cate’s phone vibrated on her desk four times before she reached for it.  Her eyes never left her computer’s screen as she felt across the stacks of papers, searching for the little electronic gadget she knew was there.  Finally she located it and pulled it to her ear, her thumb automatically brushing across the answer button.

“Hey, Baby.  I was just thinking of you.”

Cate chuckled at Jon’s greeting as she continued to scan the text on her monitor.  “That so?”

“Mmm hmm. ”

“What were you thinking about me?”  Cate replied distractedly as she clicked her mouse to scroll the document down the screen.  She knew the paragraph she was looking for was somewhere in this convoluted affidavit…

“The ususal.  Dirty, filthy stuff. ”  Jon’s voice dropped to a husky purr.  “Naked stuff.”

Cate smirked quizzically at her husband’s playful admission.  “And you called to tell me that why, exactly?”  AHA!  Just as she finished the question her eyes settled on the piece of information she was looking for.  Cate hastily maneuvered her computer mouse to highlight and copy the passage, then drag it to another window on her display.

“Because, Cate.  You told me this morning to call you when I was done.”

No longer distracted by her work, Cate sat back in her chair.  Her brow furrowed as she thought back through the morning’s events.    She didn’t recall telling her husband to call her at all, let alone after he finished some task.

“Oh.  Umm…”  Cate cringed at Jon’s heavy sigh. 

“I just left the clinic, Cate.  The tests?  Remember?”

Cate closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, grimacing slightly at the welcome pressure.  “Of course.  Sorry, Babe.  I’m just up to my ass in alligators on this case…” 

She let her hand fall heavily onto her lap as she sighed tiredly.  Her long-lashed blue eyes fluttered open, her gaze sliding to the framed photograph on the corner of her desk.  Cate smiled gently at the image of her handsome husband. 

“So it went okay?”

“Yeah, as well as jacking off into a plastic cup can go.  By yourself, anyway.”

Cate giggled quietly at Jon’s wry reply.  “Well, at least you get to have a little fun when you go to the clinic.  I just have to lay there and stare at the ceiling.”

“True.  But seriously, as much as we pay that place, they could invest in some better porn.”

The throaty chuckle in her ear warmed Cate’s heart.  Even so, her smile faded as she sighed softly.  “Jon, I’m sorry.  I know this is a pain in the ass, to have to do all these tests, but…”

Jon cut her off.  “Baby, it’s okay.  We’re in this together, remember?”

“I know.  It’s just…”  A lump formed in Cate’s throat as her words trailed away.  She swallowed hard. 

“It’s just you didn’t expect it to take this long,” Jon finished for her, his voice gentler.  “Neither did I.”

Cate nodded silently and looked down at her hand on her lap.  The gold band on her ring finger shone softly in fluorescent government-office light.  “I’ll try not to be too late tonight.  Hopefully Jane can get me right in and out.”

“Want me to meet you there?”

Another weary sigh escaped from Cate’s lips as again she looked up at Jon’s photo.  “Nah.  There’s nothing for you to do but sit in the waiting room anyway.”

“I’m cool with that.  And then we could go out for a bite after?”  Jon couldn’t hide the note of concern in his voice, even through his best persuasive sexy croon.

His attempt made Cate smile.  “Thanks, but no.  I’d rather just get this over with and come home and curl up on the couch.  It’s been a long day already.”  Her mouth twisted into a wry smirk.  “Besides, I’m used to getting dinner before ending up on my back with my legs spread and my feet in the air.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s supposed to work?  Hmm.  All these years, I’ve been doing it wrong.”

Cate snorted a giggle.  “Yeah, it’s always been way too easy for you, Rock Star.  Just prance around in those tight pants and sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ and girls lose their panties left and right.  No dinner dates required.”

“Nah, that’s Sambora.”

Cate laughed softly at Jon’s reply to her tease, grateful for his attempt to lighten her mood.  “Oh, okay.  If you say so,” she gently chided.  “But anyway… I really would rather just do this on my own.  ‘Kay?”

“Okay.  Call me when you’re done and I’ll order us a pizza or something.”

“Deal.”

“Love you, Baby.   Don’t work too hard.”

“Love you too.  See you tonight.”

Jon frowned as he lowered the phone from his ear and tapped the screen.  Though his conversation with Cate had been upbeat, he couldn’t get past the weariness in her tone.  His brow furrowed with concern as he raised an arm to hail a cab.  Miraculously, in just a matter of seconds a yellow taxi pulled to the curb.

Jon settled into the back seat and gave the cabbie his destination, then turned his gaze to the window.  He didn’t see the passing scenery as his mind replayed the telephone conversation.  Instead he envisioned Cate at her paper-piled desk, slouched in her chair as she held her phone to her ear.  Even in his imagination she looked tired.

He knew Cate was deep into a major case, though she of course wouldn’t tell him any details.  She had been working long hours at her office, in the field, and even at home.  Hardly a night had passed over the last month when she hadn’t locked herself away in the office with her files and laptop.  She even read through binders of reports and legal documents during her early-morning workouts on the treadmill or elliptical machine in their apartment.  Cate was fully immersed in this case, whatever it was.

Jon had been married to a criminal investigator long enough to understand the demands of the job.  There were times when a case had to be at the top of Cate’s priority list.  He didn’t necessarily like it when that happened, but he understood.  After all, there were times when his own career had to take precedence over other parts of his life, and his family’s.  That was the Price of Success.  In Cate’s case, it was often the Price of Justice.

But this time was different.  Jon had gleaned enough details through casual conversation with his wife and her colleagues to know that this investigation was still in the “follow-the-money trail” phase.  There were no imminent searches or arrests or prosecutions, at least as far as he could tell.  Cate hadn’t even traveled out of town on temporary duty yet, which usually happened as the moment of action neared.  It seemed to be business as usual for the Manhattan Field Office.

And that was the cause of Jon’s concern.  Cate’s immersion in her work seemed to be self-induced.   It was as if she was trying to occupy her mind and her time with things she could control, so she didn’t dwell on the things she couldn’t.

Like her body.

Jon understood perfectly.  Because she was just like him.

Shaking himself from his reflection, Jon turned his face forward.  He peered ahead through the cab’s windshield at the slow-moving traffic clogging the avenue.  Dammit.  If there was one thing predictable about Midtown traffic it was that it would be snarled at precisely the time you were trying to get from one place to another on a timetable.

“Hey, you can just drop me here.”  Not bothering to look at the taxi’s meter, Jon pulled a couple bills from his wallet and waved them at the driver.  “Change of plans.”

With an indifferent shrug the cabbie turned the wheel to steer the car toward the curb.  His unplanned movement caused a chorus of angry horn blasts from the traffic behind.  The protest was lost on the cab driver, who waited silently as his passenger exited the back seat of his car.  He accepted the bills from the blonde man with a nonchalant nod, not bothering to offer a “thank you.”  Then he pulled back into traffic, off in search of his next fare.

Jon turned away from the curb, fixing his gaze on the iconic marble-fronted building down the block.  He did have an appointment to keep, but he didn’t mind keeping the suits waiting for a few extra minutes.  First he wanted to take care of a personal errand, one that had just occurred to him.  One that was more important than lawyers and accountants.

Tonight he needed to see her smile.