Saturday, November 10, 2012

FORTY-THREE


"Jon!  Put that thing away and get dressed!"

The command floated across the bedroom from the open door of Cate's walk-in closet.  It was firm but upbeat, with just a touch of "I-mean-business."

"Just a mi-nute..." Jon sing-songed back to her.  He smirked as he swiped his finger again across the glowing screen. 

He knew he was driving his wife crazy with his purposeful lollygagging.  All day Cate had been adamant that they could not be late for their evening dinner plans, reminding him every hour on the hour that a car would arrive to pick them up promptly at seven-thirty.  Though he hadn't been at all bothered by her borderline-nagging, Jon was secretly enjoying Cate's increasing impatience at his pretend-laziness. 

Jon tapped again at his iPad, opening another window.  From the corner of his eye he saw her dark-red head appear in the closet's doorway.

"Jon!"  This time her bark was sharper, demanding obedience.  "Hurry up!"

"Oh, Ma'am, yes Ma'am!"  Jon chuckled, raising his hand to tap his forehead in a lazy salute.  He let the tablet rest on his bare thigh as he looked up to give Cate a cheeky grin.  "God forbid we make that hired car wait a few minutes."  He shot a sideways glance at the bedside alarm clock.  "Considering it's not even going to be here for another forty-five minutes."

Cate fully emerged from the closet, a pair of sheer black nylons dangling from her hand.  She gave her husband another stern glare as she hurried over to the small sitting area near the bedroom's massive wall of windows.  She perched on the edge of a suede-covered chair before draping the stockings over its arm.

"Yes, in just forty-five minutes. Which is why you better hurry up and Get. Dressed."

"Pffft."  Jon rolled his eyes with his gentle sputter, then gave her a cheeky smile.  "All I gotta do is put my pants on and I'm ready to go.  You're the one with all the..."  He waved a hand in her direction, indicating her matching set of lacy undergarments.  "... stuff."

Cate arched a brow at his rebuttal.  She knew he was teasing her; the warm sparkle in his azure eyes gave him away.  But still, if she didn't ride his ass Jon would laze around until the last second.  Then he would jump into his suit, half-knot his tie, splash on a little cologne, run a hand through his hair... and look rock-star perfect.

Which kinda pissed her off.  

Especially since she had spent three hours at the salon today.  She hadn't trusted herself to get her hair and makeup just right for this special evening.  So counting that trip, Cate had been getting ready for this evening for nearly the past five hours.

Cate stared back at Jon, trying to keep a stern countenance as inside she melted at his sexy grin.  She crossed her legs and reached for a stocking, her hand flicking aside the dangling strap of her garter as it brushed across her thigh.

"You gotta do more than just put your pants on.  Unless you plan to look like you just crawled out of a Jersey City whorehouse, wearing your stained wifebeater and a stupid grin.  Not to mention your crazy-ass Nick-Cage-Raising-Arizona hair." 

She slowly gathered the stocking into a bunch as she tossed the barb playfully at her husband.  Cate gave him a satisfied smirk, then bent forward to slide her foot into the nylon sheath.  Her bow gave Jon a perfect view of her round breasts, their creamy flesh half-exposed by the top of her frilly black push-up brassiere.

"Hey, there ain't nothin' wrong with my hair."  Automatically Jon's hand went to his silvery-sandy locks, his fingers combing through the thick strands.

"Mmmm.  Gettin' kinda shaggy, don'cha think?  And you've got that cowlick in the back.  You know, right above your..."

"Hey now! Watch it!"  Jon interrupted his wife's tease before she could mention the rapidly-thinning spot on the back of his scalp.  "I do not have a bald spot."  His hand slipped back to cup protectively over the sensitive location.  

Cate chortled.  "Well, not yet..."  She smirked wickedly and slid the stocking up over calf, gracefully pointing her toe as she extended her leg.  She could feel Jon's eyes following her hands upward, over her knee and to her thigh.  "But it's okay, Baby.  You're fifty, after all.  You've fought a good fight."

Jon couldn't help but chuckle at her tease.  His smirk relaxed to a smile as he watched her continue to dress, her slender fingers guiding the nylon band high on her thigh and snapping the garters into place before reaching for the other stocking.  Again his eyes slid up to Cate's cleavage, then down her midsection.  Her navel was hidden by the high waist of her silky black slip.  Its shiny folds bunched around her hips, hiding what Jon was sure were sexy lacy panties to match her delicate bra.

His cheeky rebuttal was forgotten as Jon gazed at his wife, caught up in the sensuality of her dressing ritual.  After a long moment of admiring silence he spoke.

"You should wear stockings every day."

Cate smiled, the gentle awe in his soft voice warming her.  "That wouldn't be very practical."

"No, but it would be sexy as hell."

A light flush tinted her cheeks as Cate grazed her palms over her legs from ankle to thigh, ensuring her nylons were smooth.  When the task was complete, she sat up and gazed back at Jon.  Her heart squeezed at the affection in his smile. 

"Jon, please get dressed."  This time it was a calm request, not a command.

With a little nod Jon reached to set his iPad on the nightstand before pushing himself up off the edge of the bed.  Still smiling, he rounded the bench at its foot and strolled over to where Cate sat.  He paused in front of her, holding out his hand. 

Silently she accepted his help, rising gracefully from her seat.  Her slip slithered down over her thighs, its lacy edge fluttering slightly as Cate moved close to Jon.  She tipped her face upward, automatically tilting her head to the side to receive the brush of his lips over hers.

Jon smiled down at Cate, his heart squeezing happily.  He knew tonight was important to her, probably moreso than to him.  She had flown home in the middle of the night to ensure they could keep this date.  She had picked out his suit and tie.   She had even taken the unusual step of having her hair and makeup done, a luxury she usually reserved for black-tie affairs.  And she looked beautiful.  Only a ghost of weariness flickered in her deep sapphire eyes.

While he had insisted there be no lavish celebration of his half-century birthday, Jon was quietly delighted that his wife wanted to make the night special.  And private.  He could think of no better way to spend this evening than alone with Cate, sharing conversation over wine, savoring the past and looking forward to their future.

"Okay."  Jon breathed softly, a belated acquiescence to her repeated request.  "I'll get dressed."  The lines around his eyes crinkled sexily as he grinned.  "And for the record, my undershirt isn't stained.  It's fresh outta the package."

Cate couldn't help but giggle at his gently-delivered tease.  She raised a hand to his chest, tracing the scooped neckline of the tank-style shirt.  Wiry silver chest hairs curled around her fingertips as they brushed his skin.  "Well I should hope not.  This is a fancy occasion."

Jon again ducked his head forward to kiss the tip of her nose, then stepped back.  Cate's hand fell to her side as she watched him saunter away, toward his own huge closet on the opposite wall.  Her gaze automatically dropped to his behind, the muscular curves of his glutes bunching rythmically beneath his boxer-briefs with his gait. 

She grinned at herself when he disappeared into the closet, realizing she had thoroughly enjoyed that shallow moment.  With a little shake of her head Cate turned and moved back to her own wardrobe.

When she selected her outfit Cate had been careful not to pick something too obviously "Mad-Men," not wanting to tip Jon off to the theme of his secret party.  She had been fortunate to find a lovely midnight-blue, curve-hugging vintage-60's cocktail dress in the upscale vintage shop around the corner.  Paired with black seamed stockings and patent-leather pumps and accented by a simple strand of pearls, the outfit was one of timeless elegance.  Only Cate's soft modern beehive hairdo and dramatic makeup hinted at a retro look.  Luckily, mod-retro was the season's trend, so she was able to pull it off with some subtlety.    

Chortling softly to herself, Cate carefully unzipped the dress and pulled it from its hanger.  She started to step in to it, then hesitated when she realized her slip would ride up into a bunch when she pulled the narrow-waisted skirt up over her hips.  With a mild swear Cate instead lifted the dress over her head.  She struggled with the navy silk, trying to slip into the garment without wrinkling the pressed cloth or mussing her still-pristine hairdo. 

After several more curses and contortions, Cate finally succeeded in tugging the dress into place.  Straightening her slip under the slim skirt, she turned to face the long dressing mirror.  She smoothed her hands over her skirt and smiled.  Now all she needed was a little hand.

"Jon?"  Cate turned to the side, checking to be sure her stocking seams were straight as she awaited his reply.

"Yeah?"

"Baby, can you zip me?"

"One second." 

Cate turned back to face the mirror, her lips curving gently with approval at her reflection.  She looked good.  Really good.  Especially considering she had entered the salon with a tangled mass of hair stuffed under a baseball cap and huge dark circles under her eyes.  With a touch of lipstick and a dab of perfume she would be ready to face a roomful of people in a celebratory mood.

"So ya need a hand, huh?"  Jon's gentle voice came from the doorway now, not from a distant corner of the bedroom.

"Please."  Cate smiled persuasively into the mirror, knowing he was looking at her reflection.  She chuckled softly as Jon sauntered over to where she stood, giving the loose knot at his neck a little adjustment as he moved.

"Mmm.  What if I'd rather not?"

Cate shivered lightly as she felt Jon's finger trail slowly up the bared vee of flesh exposed by her open zipper.  His touch left a tingle of pleasure in its wake.  "Please?"  She fluttered her long lashes coyly.

Jon stepped closer, his hands sliding onto her hips.  He smirked at her in the mirror as his chin dropped to settle on her shoulder.  "But un-zipping is much more fun."  The argument was delivered in a sultry half-purr.

"Baby, I'm already unzipped."

"I know."  Jon chortled huskily and turned his head to nip gently at her bare neck.  Cate couldn't contain a soft giggle as she squirmed against the tickle of his lips.

"I'm diggin' this Brit-mod-chick thing you've got goin' on here tonight."  Jon returned his happy gaze to their reflection in the  mirror.  "The hair, the makeup... looks good on you."

"Thank you.  Just trying something a little different."  Cate let the half-fib roll off her tongue.

"That why you've got me wearing this Goombah suit?"  Jon stuck out a leg and gave it a little shake, indicating the dress trousers he had donned before answering Cate's call for assistance.  The shiny dark-gray fabric rippled with the movement.  "Something different?  I haven't worn this thing since the nineties."

"Oh you have too worn it since then."  Cate laughed softly at his exaggeration, then pursed her lips in another coy flirt.  "I like that suit on you.  It's classic.  And if I was trying to dress you like a Goombah you'd be wearing polyester double-knit and wide lapels."

"Classic, huh?  Classic what?  I feel like a fuckin' Goodfella."  Jon let his lip curl into a playful sneer.  His blue eyes flashed with mischief as he played to his reflection.  "You think I'm funny?  Do I amuse you?  What's so fuckin' funny about me?"

This time Cate's laugh was more robust, her head tipping back against Jon's shoulder and her cheek brushing his.  He grinned and slipped his arms around her waist in a loose embrace.

"I think Marty Scorcese got the wrong guy for that part.  You're so much better than Joe Pesci."  Cate's compliment was gently sarcastic.

"I know.  But I don't have the hair.  Or the pinky ring."  Jon waved his right hand at the mirror, clearly displaying its absence of jewelry.

"Ah, well.  You're too cute to be a bad guy, anyway."  Cate giggled and turned her face to brush a kiss against Jon's ear.

"We'll see about that.  I get to be really bad pretty soon."

"On TV or in real life?"  Cate winked at him in the mirror, knowing he was referring to the dark turn of his television character's storyline.

"Maybe both."  Jon smirked and gave his wife a little squeeze before stepping back and sliding his hands around her sides.  He gave a half-growl, half-sigh as he fidgeted lightly.  "Can't I just wear jeans?  These pants are too fucking slick.  My junk's gonna be slidin' around all over the place."

"No, Jon.  We're going to a really nice place.  A suit is appropriate."  Cate gave Jon a half-stern look in the mirror.  "Do you think I'm getting this dressed up just for the hell of it?"

"So I'll wear a dinner jacket and a nice shirt."

"Jon..."  Cate sighed, her exasperation authentic this time.  "Just... humor me, okay?  This night is important to me."

Her imploring look made him back down.  Jon gave his wife a resigned little grin. 

"Oh, all right.  I'll wear the suit.  But if I'm squirming around all night you'll know why.  Superman likes his phone booth nice and snug."

"Yes, Jon,  I know.  But right now we really don't have time for this.... pants debate."  Cate turned her head to look over her shoulder, a clear reminder that she was still waiting for her husband's assistance with her dress.

"Oh.  I guess you're gonna yell at me again if I don't get you zipped."

"Yes, I am," Cate agreed.  She stood still as Jon gently pulled the zipper upward, closing the gap at her back.  She automatically inhaled as the navy silk snugged around her torso, encouraging her to straighten her posture.

"Need help with your necklace too?" 

Cate smiled at his thoughtfulness.  "Yes, please.  I'll get it."  Her movement was stilled by Jon's hand at the small of her back.

"Stay there.  I will.  What are you wearing tonight?"  Jon moved over to the dresser-sized jewelry bureau and paused, awaiting her instruction.

"The pearls.  Second drawer."

Jon slid out a shallow drawer and drew out a single strand of silvery-white pearls.  He smiled as he moved back over to his wife and gently looped them around her neck.  The pearls had been his wedding gift to Cate; one he had purchased in a Hawaiian jeweler's shop the afternoon before they exchanged their vows.

Jon easily handled the clasp, then gave Cate's reflection in the mirror an approving nod.  She looked almost as if she was ready to walk onto the set of a 1960's-themed movie. 

"There.  Gorgeous."  He grinned.  "You look a little like Ann-Margaret."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Hell yeah."  Jon chortled sexily.  "She was one Hot Mama.  Elvis sure thought so."

"Well, I guess there's no arguing with The King."  Cate snickered quietly as she tucked an errant copper strand behind her ear.  Then she turned slowly, feeling Jon's hand slide from her back to her side. 

Her hands raised to rest lightly against the crisp white cotton that covered his chest. "Thank you.  Now you really do need to hurry up and get ready.  The car's going to be here soon, and I want to give you your present before we go."  Her fingertips moved to the loose knot in his thin black tie, gently tugging to straighten a little crease.

"I'll try not to mess up your hairdo."  Jon's playful tone dripped with naughtiness as he lowered his head to rub his nose against hers.  "If you promise to be careful not to get lipstick on my fly."

Cate rolled her eyes but giggled at his tease.  She wondered if every man in America assumed, like her husband, that they were entitled to a birthday blowjob. 

"Sorry, Baby.  That's gonna have to wait 'til later.  That is, if you want it to last longer than about three minutes."

"Oh, it will definitely last.  I can promise you that."  Jon chortled dirtily.  "Superman may be fifty, but he still feels like he's twenty.  Especially with all the flyin' around loose he's gonna get to do tonight in these fuckin' Goombah suit pants."

Cate ignored his complaint, instead focusing on the positive portion of his statement.  "Well thank God for that."

"Hallelujah, Ay-men."  Jon leaned in to press another sweet kiss against Cate's lips.  "And by the way, I thought I told you not to get me a present."

"Well, I listen about as well as you do."  Cate smiled with the gentle barb.

"Alright.  Lemme go get my belt and shoes and shit first."

"Okay.  Meet you by the bed."

With one more brush of his lips over hers Jon turned and sauntered out of Cate's walk-in closet, adjusting the cuffs of his white dress shirt as he went.  She chortled softly to herself before moving back to the jewelry bureau.  Cate stooped to pull out one of the lower drawers and extracted two leather-bound boxes, one flat and rectangular, the other small and square.

She sighed softly as she looked down at the gift boxes in her hands.  Cate hadn't had the slightest idea what to give Jon for his birthday.  He was so much better at thoughtful gift-giving than she.  And it didn't help that he would give her no clues or inspiration, insisting that he wanted nothing but her love.  It was a sweet sentiment, but completely useless to her cause.

Consultation with Jon's friends and family had yielded little inspiration.  Richie had good-naturedly suggested a vintage guitar or a private lingerie show.  Obie had, not surprisingly, suggested a car.  Jon's brothers simply shook their heads and shrugged.  Even Dorothea had been unhelpful, giving Cate an empathetic little smile as she pointed out Jon had everything he wanted and then some.

So, left to her own devices, Cate had settled on two things Jon neither needed nor coveted.  One gift had been an impulse purchase; she hoped he at least liked it enough to humor her by wearing it a few times before it was assigned to a drawer in his own closet.  

The acquisition of the other gift had been carefully planned and completed several weeks ago.  Thankfully Cate had arranged to have it delivered by messenger last week.  Picking it up would have been another errand delayed by her unexpected travel.

Cate set the boxes on the top of the bureau before turning toward the opposite wall.  She stood on her tiptoes and stretched to retrieve a shoebox from the middle of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. She placed the clear plastic container on a small ottoman next to the mirror and pried off the lid.

Cate lifted the black patent platform pumps from the box and looped the fingers of one hand into their toes, then again turned to the jewelry bureau, picking up Jon's gifts with her other hand.  With a little smile she turned and padded through the closet door and out into the bedroom.

Jon was seated again on the edge of the bed, his iPad in his hand.  He looked up from the screen and gave her a little smirk and a low wolf-whistle.

Cate's cheeks flushed at his reaction as she crossed the long room to where he sat.  She dropped her shoes onto the bench at the bed's foot, then stopped in front of Jon.  She smiled half-apologetically down at him, holding the leather-bound boxes in both hands, the smaller stacked on top of the larger.

"So... it's not much.  But I wanted to get you something."

Jon chortled softly, then shook a finger at her in a gentle scold.  "I told you, no presents.  You promised."

"Yeah, well.  Some promises are meant to be broken."  Cate shrugged. "Do you want to open them?"

Jon's smirk twisted quizzically at her half-hearted question.  "Do you want me to open them now?  Or wait 'til later?"

"It's up to you, Baby.  It's your birthday."

Jon's brow furrowed at Cate's indifferent answer.  After all her anxious prodding about being ready for their dinner date, she seemed less than enthusiastic about her gifts.  He reached up to gently take the boxes from her hand, careful not to let the smaller one slide.

"Tell ya what.  You go finish up in front of the mirror.  I'll wait 'til you're done, then you come sit here with me and we'll open them together."

Cate's lips curved into a half-hearted little smile.  "Okay.  But like I said.... it's not much."

"I didn't want anything, Cate.  Except you."

Cate resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his sweet but annoying sentiment.   "Okay.  Gimme a minute.  Just lipstick and perfume."

"Okay."  Jon chuckled as he watched his wife turn and move briskly to the bathroom door.  When she stepped through the arched portal he set the boxes gently on the bed next to his thigh and again picked up the tablet. 

He saw the little mail icon had changed from his last glance, indicating receipt of a new electronic message.  A tap of his finger opened the folder.  Jon grimaced lightly at the sender's identity.

"So, looks like Ma sent me another birthday e-mail."  Jon called out his discovery in a half-amused, half-weary tone.  Cate's voice floated back to him from the vanity.

"Well, you are her Little Johnny..."

Jon snorted softly and tapped again at the screen, opening the message.  He quickly scanned the brief text.

Tell Cate she looks lovely!  Why didn't she stop by when she was in town?

Below Carol's simple message was a link.  Jon tapped again, this time opening a new window to view the content of whatever website his mother had found. 

His mouth twisted into an amused smirk when he saw the header for the Miami Herald's Society page at the top of the window.  Beneath a bold headline proclaiming "Affair of the Arts" was a color photograph of his wife dancing with a grinning Latino man.

Jon chuckled before announcing his discovery.  "Uh oh.  Guess what?"

"What?"  Cate's question preceded her appearance in the bathroom's doorway.  Her lips glistened under a fresh coat of ruby lipstick.  She arched an inquisitive brow.

"You're busted."  Jon grinned and held up the iPad.

Cate's stomach clenched at his playful accusation.  Shit, had he somehow found out about the party?  She squinted against the glare on the little screen, trying to make out the image on display.

"What... what do you mean?"  Cate moved quickly over to the bed, trying to ignore Jon's triumphant smirk.  She took the tablet from his hand and peered at the screen.  A little squeak escaped her when she recognized herself and Tico in the photograph.  It was the shot the party photographer had stolen as they shared their uncomfortable dance at the charity ball.

"You can't deny it now, Baby.  I knew you were in Miami."

Cate gave Jon a sheepish smile as inwardly she sighed with relief.  She chuckled softly.  "Yeah, well.  I guess you got me."

"You didn't tell me you had a date."  Jon gave Cate a saucy wink.  "I always knew you had a thing for those Latin Lover types..."

Cate giggled.  "Honestly, Baby... I had no idea Tico was going to be there.  We just bumped into each other.  He donated a piece to this charity art-auction thing." 

She slid her fingertip over the screen of Jon's iPad, scrolling the page down to skim the other photographs.  She cringed slightly when she recognized herself in a second photo, with Dr. Cruz-Parra.

Cate hoped the tabloids wouldn't pick up on that one.  It was bad enough that they would probably be in a speculative frenzy over her fake maternity shopping trip.  A photograph of her socializing with one of Miami's foremost fertility specialists would only stoke the gossip fires.  Unfortunately it would be pointing the gossip rags toward the truth of Jon and Cate's very private situation.

"Ah.  Well, I'm glad he was there.  Makes me feel a little better about you running around with a gun under your dress, chasing some criminal.  Even at a high-society ball."

Cate raised her gaze from the tablet to give Jon an amused look.  "Why?  Because Tico could protect me?  Jon, I'm the one with the gun."

"Still.  I know he'd never let anything happen to you."

Cate bit back her snarky reply.  She forced a smile, reminding herself that she didn't want to get into an argument with Jon tonight.  Not on his birthday.

"Yeah, well.  Anyway.  We had a little chat, had a dance, then basically didn't see much of each other the rest of the night.  He was busy with the auction."

"And you were busy watching?"  Jon's brow lifted as he pushed a little, curious to see how much Cate would tell him.

She met his gaze, reading him immediately.  "Yes, I was busy watching... the auction."  Cate smirked.  "And bidding, actually.  Oh, by the way... the rest of your birthday present will be here next week." 

Cate couldn't hold in a giggle as she remembered she had bought Tico's sculpture at the auction.  So much had happened in the past few days that she had almost forgotten her purchase.

Jon gave her a fake-grimace.  "Umm... great."  His reply was purposely unenthusiastic.  "Art.  Just what I wanted."

"Well, at least it's something a little more original than what's in those boxes."  Cate shrugged.  "You don't already have a dresser-ful of sculptures."

"Ah.  Speaking of which..." Jon beckoned to Cate, encouraging her to come nearer.  He grinned and patted his lap, inviting her to sit.

Cate chortled softly, then moved closer to the bed.  Jon widened his legs for her to step in between them.  Cate lowered herself onto Jon's thigh, smiling as she felt his arm slip around her waist.  She glanced again at the tablet in her hand, preparing to hand it back to Jon.  His eyes dropped to the glowing screen as well.

"What're those?  More pictures from the party?"

"Huh?"  Cate looked again at the tablet.  At the bottom of the page were a row of small rectangles, thumbnails of additional photos.  She touched one and watched it enlarge to fill the screen.  Again her stomach fluttered as she recognized the outfit she had worn during her staged shopping spree.

"Umm... Oh."

"Hey!  That's you!"  Jon's surprise was genuine.  "Who's that you're with?"

Cate giggled half-nervously.  "Uh... that's Mirna.  My friend."

"I didn't know you had a friend in Miami."

Cate couldn't help but grin at his naivete'.  "Jon... she's an agent.  Remember, I told you about my partner?  The gorgeous one?"

"Oh."  Jon squinted at the screen, then let out a low whistle.  "Yeah.  You're not wrong."  He paused for effect before giving Cate a playful grin.  "So you two girls went shopping on your time off and the paps managed to catch you?"

"Yeah.  Something like that."  Cate let his assumption slide.  He didn't need to know about her established "cover."

"Are there more?"  Jon took the iPad from Cate's hand and dropped it on his thigh.  He dragged his finger over the screen, minimizing the photo and uncovering a dozen more in the series. 

"I guess so."  Cate fidgeted lightly on his lap.  "Baby, they're just candids of me and Mirna and some shopping bags..."

Jon grinned.  "Hey, I wanna see what you were up to.  Where you spent my money." 

Though Cate knew he was teasing, her heart squeezed.  She was certain he would notice the bag that made her shopping trip noteworthy to the gossip rags.

It took him only a few seconds.  "Baby... what's this?"  He pointed to the large white parcel with the prominently-displayed logo.

Cate sighed.  "Jon, it's nothing.  Mirna and I went into a baby boutique.  That's all."

"What did you buy?"  Jon turned his gaze to Cate, his blue eyes now full of hopeful excitement.  "I thought..."

"Nothing for us," Cate answered hastily, not wanting to see disappointment again cloud his happy expression.  "Mirna has a new niece.  She bought a few things..."

"Oh."  Jon looked again at the photo, then back to Cate.  He gave her a more gentle smile, seeing in her expression that he shouldn't push.  But his words were out before he could stop them. "Was that... were you... okay?"

Cate nodded slowly, responding with what she hoped was a reassuring little smile.  "It was fine.  I mean... yeah, I was still a little disappointed over our news, but..."

Jon nodded along with her, then gave her waist a little squeeze. "Think that's why the fucking paparazzi was following you around?  More of that 'Baby Bon-Bon' shit?"

"Yeah, probably."  Cate sighed again, ready to dismiss the topic.  She didn't want to talk about it now, nor did she have any intention to explain to Jon that the attention of the tabloids was a necessary part of her work.   "But it doesn't matter." She shook her head, affirming her statement.  "It's your birthday, Baby.  I don't wanna think about that stuff tonight."

"Me either."  Jon tossed the tablet aside onto the mattress, symbolically closing the subject. He gave her another sweet smile. "Do I still have time to open my presents?  Or is the car here?"

Cate glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand.  "We have sixteen minutes.  Then we have to go."

"Well then.  I better get crackin'."  Jon chuckled and reached for the boxes.  "Which one first?"

"Whichever you like.  And I apologize in advance that they're nothing big.  You're not exactly easy to buy for."

"Well, you weren't supposed to buy me anything."

"I know, but it's your birthday, Jon.  You're my husband.  How am I supposed to not get you something?"

"I don't plan to get you anything for your birthday."  Jon gave Cate a wicked smirk.

Cate snorted at his tease.  "Yeah, right.  Baby, you surprise me with presents all the time.  Even though I don't need anything."

"Well, neither do I.  I have everything I could ever want or need."

"I know.  Shopping for the man who almost literally has everything ain't easy, you know."  Cate grinned.  "And seeing as how an NFL franchise was a little out of my budget...."

"Well, that you could have gotten me.  I woulda been fine with a football team for my birthday..."

Cate shrugged, her smile turning apologetic.  "Sorry, Jonny.  I guess you're gonna have to settle for a few little trinkets instead."

"S'alright.  I'm good with a few little trinkets.  They're from you..."  Jon ducked his head to plant a light kiss on Cate's bare arm.  "That makes 'em special."

"Thanks, Baby.  That's completely corny, but sweet."  Cate chuckled throatily.  She shifted on his lap as Jon pulled his arm from around her waist and set the boxes on this thigh.  With both hands he carefully lifted the smallest ring box and pried it open.

"Well that's cool!"  Jon regarded the heavy platinum band with a little grin curving his lips.  "I've never seen one like this."  He tipped the ring box to let the light play over the dark-metal circle.  The band was wide and thick, with a deep channel down the middle.  The precious metal that filled the channel had been worked to resemble chain links, giving the illusion of a circular chain-ring.

"I saw it in the Van Cleef & Arpels window on Fifth, thought you might like it."  Cate shrugged sheepishly.  "Something unusual."

"I love it."  Jon tugged the ring from its velvet-covered slot and slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand.  "It's heavy."  He waved his hand slightly, then grinned.  "Too bad it's too big to be a pinky ring.  I'd be a full-on Goombah then."

Cate giggled softly at Jon's return to the Mafia reference.  She had spent enough time watching a pinky-ring-wearing Italian over the past few days.  She'd rather not have one in her home.

"Yeah, well.  You're better than that."

Jon chortled at her compliment then leaned up for a quick smooch.  "Thank you, Baby."

"Welcome."  Cate glanced again at the clock on the bedside table.  "Twelve minutes."

"Okay, okay..." Jon acknowledged her prod with a hasty nod.  He tossed the empty ring box aside onto the mattress and picked up the larger, flatter jewelry case.  "And this.... is a matching pendant?"  He grinned cheekily with his prediction. 

Cate smiled at his inaccurate guess as he opened the box.  Then her heart squeezed as she saw his reaction to the antique Patek-Phillipe watch that lay nestled against the box's velvet lining.  Jon's lips parted in a soft gasp as his eyes widened.  His shoulders slumped slightly forward as his chin dropped to his chest.  He stared in wonder at the elegant timepiece.

"Oh, Cate..."  Jon brushed a gentle fingertip over the crystal face.  "It's.... Wow."

"I know you don't need another watch, Jon.  But this one... it's special."  Cate felt her eyes mist a little as Jon's awed reaction touched her heart.  "It's one of only a hundred and nine made, of which only about forty are known to still exist.  It's one of the only chronograph models ever made by this watchmaker.  And..."  She swallowed the little lump in her throat.  "Believe it or not... it was made on March 2, 1962."

Jon looked up at her, his blue eyes wide and shining.  "What?"

Cate nodded.  "The watchmaker kept excellent records.  This exact watch... number thirteen of this model... was completed on the day you were born."  She smiled, her own sapphire gaze sparkling back at Jon.  "And now it's yours."

Jon exhaled softly, touched by her thoughtfulness.  He looked down again, watching the thin second hand tick silently around the soft gold watch face.  This little gadget was literally the marker of his life.  It had started counting the seconds and minutes and hours the day he had drawn his first breath.

"Baby... I... I don't know what to say.  It's... remarkable.  Beautiful.  And so... perfect."

"You're welcome."

Jon raised his face to hers, giving her a tender smile.  "I love you, Baby."

"Happy Birthday, Jonny."

Again he leaned up to press a tender, lingering kiss against her mouth.  When he drew back he gazed again at the magnificent watch.  "This couldn't have been easy to find."

"Actually..." Cate shrugged and gave him a little smile.  "I kind of stumbled upon it.  It was like I was fated to find it."  She chuckled softly.  "I happened to pick up a magazine that had an article about upcoming Sotheby's auctions, and read about these incredible antique watches.  In fact..."  She reached to brush her fingers lightly over Jon's hand.  "It was at Dr. Klein's office.  While I was waiting for an appointment."

Jon chortled at her confession.  "So the article mentioned this watch?"

"Not that one specifically.  I went to the online catalog and started looking around.  That's when I found it.  The second I saw the production date I knew I had to get it for you."  Cate's cheeks tinted slightly as she recalled her initial shock at the predicted auction price of the timepiece.  Thankfully her representative had managed to obtain it for significantly less than the anticipated sell-price.

"Cate... it's fantastic.  Thank you."  Jon hesitated for a moment before raising a brow at his wife.  "Should I wear it tonight?"

Cate smiled.  "It's yours.  Do what you wish."

"I'm almost afraid to ask what it's worth."

Cate giggled guiltily.  "Well... let's just say it's definitely a special occasion-only watch."

Jon grinned.  "Well, dinner out with my Best Girl is definitely a special occasion."  He slipped his arm around Cate's waist again to give her a brief squeeze before gently tugging the watch loose from its tethers in the velvet-lined box.   He pushed up his crisply-starched cuff and laid the timepiece against the top of his wrist.

"Here."  Holding the watch in place, Jon offered the underside of his arm to Cate.  She took the cue, slipping the leather strap through the buckle and securing the strap around his wrist.  Once it was tightened, Jon held out his arm to admire the handsome timepiece.

"It looks great on you," Cate observed quietly.

Jon nodded, then turned his shining blue gaze back to her face.  The happiness in his smile made her melt.  Cate sighed softly as Jon circled both his arms around her waist and pulled her close.  "You look good on me."

He reached up to cover her mouth with his.  His tongue stroked slowly over Cate's, silently expressing his gratitude and contentment.  He chortled softly against the kiss, then leaned forward, levering his wife back onto the mattress.

"Mmmm... Jonny..." Cate protested breathily as she reclined.  She giggled softly when she felt Jon's hand slide stealthily up her side, then curve over her breast. 

"I'm just saying 'thank you,' Baby."  Jon chortled softly, then kissed her again.

"Yes... but..." Cate slipped her lips from his with her mild protest.  "We only have a few minutes 'til the car's here."

"Fuck it.  Let the driver wait."

"Jon... we can't.  We have a reservation."

Jon sighed heavily, then drew back.  He propped himself on an elbow and gave her a wistful smile.  "You sure we can't just blow it off?  Stay home, order a pizza, let me mess up that pretty, sexy hairdo of yours?"

Cate giggled and reached up to wipe a smear of her crimson lipstick from Jon's lower lip.  "This hair took a long time.  But I promise you can mess it up later.  After dinner."

"Well...." Jon paused, grumbling almost inaudibly.  "Oh-kay.  I guess we gotta go."  He gave her another little smirk.  "I was just trying to thank you properly, ya know.  For the perfect birthday gift."

Cate felt a little stab in her heart at his sweet compliment.  She knew right away from Jon's reaction that he had seen the flash of sadness in her eyes.  There was no sense trying to hide it.

"I'm glad you love the watch, Jonny.  But it's not quite what I had in mind," Cate remarked softly.  "I was hoping to give you an early present this week, before everything went nuts.  You know..."

"I know.  Baby, it's okay."  Jon's reply was tender.  "Next year."  He didn't have to finish the sentence, seeing in her eyes that she shared the same hope. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah."  Jon smiled down at his wife for a long moment, then dropped a gentle kiss on her lips.  "C'mon, Baby.  Let's go.  We'll have a nice dinner, raise a toast, then come home and start working on my next year's birthday present.  Deal?"

"Okay."

"Okay, then." 

*****

"Cate, you remembered the tickets, right?"

Cate shot Jon a sideways look even as the corners of her mouth curved upward.  Ever since they had climbed into the back seat of the town car Jon had been poking at her, trying to get her to reveal their destination. 

"No, Jon.  I don't have tickets."

"Then how are we going to get to our seats?"  When his wife turned to look at him, Jon gave her a cheeky grin.

"Jon, I've told you.  We're not going to the theater."

"Then why are we headed uptown?"

"Because we live downtown.  There's no other way to go but up, unless you wanna swim."

Jon couldn't help but laugh at Cate's reply.  She did have a point.  He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Okay, so we're not going to the theater.  That means we're going... To a gallery opening."

"No."

"A concert."

"No."

"The Met."

"Nope."

"Oh, I know!  F.A.O. Schwarz."

That suggestion made Cate giggle as a vision of Jon dancing on the giant floor-piano flashed in her mind.  She smirked back at her smug husband.

"Yeah, you got me.  We're going to spend your birthday at a giant toy store.  All by ourselves."

Jon snickered dirtily.  "Hey, wouldn't be the first time we had a store all to ourselves."  He gave her a playful wink.

Cate blushed lightly at his conspiratorial grin, knowing he was referring to the intimate little Christmas party he had arranged for them last year at Kenneth Cole. 

"No, it wouldn't.  But sorry, Baby.  I'm not that ambitious."  Cate gave Jon a sweet smile before looking forward over the driver's seat.  They were nearing their destination, just a few minutes behind schedule thanks to Friday evening traffic.

Jon followed her lead, looking forward out the windshield.  He frowned slightly as he saw that they were now passing 52nd Street.  Cate had been so adamant about keeping this hard-to-get reservation at some restaurant, yet he couldn't think of a single place in this neighborhood that would be so popular or exclusive that mention of his surname couldn't immediately get them a table.

"Is this place you're taking me someplace new?"

Cate smiled cryptically at his renewed attempt to pry information from her.  "No."

"So we've been there before?"

"I didn't say that."

"And we're having dinner?"

Cate sighed.  "Yes, Jon.  We're having dinner."

"Dancing?"

"If you like."

"They better have a good wine list."

Cate snorted softly at that.  Dorothea had made certain Jon's favorite wine was well-stocked for this party.  "I'm sure they'll have something you like."

Again Jon's eyes were drawn forward as the car turned left onto West 57th Street.  He grinned triumphantly.  "Ha!  I knew it.  Carnegie Hall.  You're taking me to some kind of performance."

Cate giggled as the town car accelerated down the street, passing the entrance to the performance hall.  She leaned into Jon as the car executed another left turn, now heading south on a one-way street.   She gave Jon another little smile.  The confusion in his expression made her chuckle again.

One more turn brought the town car onto the right street.  As the vehicle rolled slowly down West 56th, Jon peered out of the window.  Suddenly, it clicked.  The sight of the red awning brought a triumphant smirk to Jon's lips.

This wasn't just a quiet birthday dinner with his wife.

"Are we late for the party?"  Jon's voice was gleefully triumphant.

Cate tried to keep a straight face, but felt herself smile.  "What party?"

"The party you're delivering me to.  My guess is...."  Jon smirked again as the town car pulled to a stop in the center of the block, in front of the red awning and heavy wood doors.  "Gee, the Carnegie Club."

"Baby, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh.  Sure you don't."  Jon tipped his head, giving Cate his best persuasive smile.  He could see she was about to crack.  "C'mon, Special Agent Sullivan.  Spill it.  You're burned."

Cate couldn't stop her giggle at Jon's "gotcha" grin.  She sighed exasperatedly.  "Okay, fine.  Yes.  There's a party.  We're going to walk through those doors and find a bunch of people all ready to celebrate your birthday."

"And what did I say about having a party?"  Jon gave his wife a faux-stern glare, one sandy brow arched.

"You said you didn't want one."  Cate sighed.

"Exactly.  So I think we should turn around and go home.  You must be punished."

"Oh, puh-lease."  Cate rolled her eyes at his playful command. "We're not going anywhere but into that Club.  You're gonna walk through that door, act suprised, and be nice."

"Cate, I told you.  I don't want a big deal."

"Well, too bad.  You're turning fifty, Jon.  It is a big deal."

"Cate, I don't want to spend the whole night playing nice to a bunch of people.  I want to have a good meal, a glass of wine, play a little footsie with my wife under the table, then take her home and get her naked.  That's the only kind of party I want."

Cate blushed and shot a glance at the driver, who could hear every word of their exchange.  She could see his little smirk reflected in the rear-view mirror.

"Well your wife isn't going to be playing footsie or getting naked if you don't go in there and be gracious.  It's not that big of a party; just close friends and family.  There are a lot of people in that room who care about you, Jon.  Maybe they want to celebrate the fact that you've survived half a century on this planet."

"They can still celebrate.  It's still my birthday, whether I'm there or not."

Cate gave Jon a long look, then sighed.  She could see the sparkle of excitement in his blue eyes.  Her husband was just being contrary; he was secretly delighted with the no-longer-a-surprise party.

"Let's go.  Driver?"

"Yes, Ma'am."  The driver responded promptly, springing from his seat and rounding the back of the car to pull open the rear passenger door.  Jon gave Cate a little faux-frown, then climbed out of the car before helping Cate from the back seat.  He thanked the driver and waited for Cate to arrange her wrap and take his arm.  Then he led her under the awning and up to the door.

"I didn't want a party," he muttered through clenched teeth as the doors swung open to admit them into the vestibule.

"Bullshit.  Now shut up and enjoy yourself."