Steele Dating

Vol. 2; Ch. 12

By R.J. Harrington,

Remington reviewed the instructions with Bernard and wrote the telephone numbers to the condo and the car phone on a notepad. Without hesitation, Bernard agreed to stay with Aunt Mildred for a few days, more for her peace of mind than for protection.

Remington hugged Mildred.

"You ring me if you need me, no matter the hour."

"Right, boss, thanks…for everything."

"Take care of her Bernard," Remington hollered as he strolled out the back door and into the limo.

"Home, Fred."

Remington slouched onto his hand against the door and stared through the window as they headed for Rossmore. Tiny droplets of rain stuck to glass, collecting and streaming down the pane like tears.

The sprinkles turned to a downpour by the time the limo reached the condominiums. Remington shoved the door and rushed under the canopy that covered the walkway to the building entrance. He brushed water from his trousers and headed for the fifth floor.

He threw his keys onto the credenza and walked to the bedroom to change from his damp and blood-stained clothes. Once in his more comfortable jeans and sweatshirt, he rubbed a towel across his hair and walked to the living room, sitting on the edge of a chair to watch the rain.

His thoughts were with Laura. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He flipped on the TV to search for an old movie as a distraction, but found only An Affair to Remember. While not his usual preference for an old movie, it was the end of the picture. The climactic scene was too captivating to click the remote.

Deborah Kerr sat quietly in her chair, a blanket covering her crippled legs, as Cary Grant walked to her bedroom. There in the mirror he sees the painting he drew, the painting his shop sold to a woman in a wheelchair. Realizing why she had never met him as she promised so many years ago, he returns to face her. She realizes he knows. He whisks her into his arms and tears stream down her face. Love reunited.

It's a touching picture for most viewers, but all Remington could think was what a waste. Years of joy and happiness lost because she couldn't tell him the truth.

"No slight to you Nikkie, ol' chap, but I think I'll try a different tact."

Remington grabbed his coat and headed for the lobby to call Fred. He slid the overcoat onto his shoulders. As he walked outside, he peeked under the canopy to check the weather and frowned at the downpour.

He shivered and pulled his lapels together for warmth, then looked up. He couldn't believe it.

Across the circle drive stood a vision. It was Laura. She was soaked. Her hair was wavy and pushed back from her face; her spring sweater and petal pink shirt clung to her body and she held a folded umbrella at her side. She crossed the driveway and stood before him.

"Forgot to open our umbrella, did we?" Remington said with an impish grin.

"Yes." Laura smiled.

They stood in silence for a few moments, each staring at the other. Reminded of why he was standing in the rain in the first place, Remington reached for Laura's face and leaned to kiss her. The kiss was sweetened by the rain's dampness and the sureness that not all was lost. Their lips parted, but they stayed close.

"I thought you were going to stay in San Francisco?"

"I was, but the reason no longer exists."

"Oh."

"Besides we have a new client, and I couldn't pass up a free trip to the Mediterranean." Laura said as the pair turned to walk inside with their arms wrapped around the other's waist.

"The Mediterranean, eh?"

"Sundrenched days and moonlit nights."

"Sounds irresistible."

Remington smiled and kissed the side of Laura's forehead as they strolled into the lobby and up to the condo where chilled champagne was waiting.

The End