Steeling a
Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
Steele
Holting On
Chapter 4 Home
While flying home comfortably in first class, Laura and Remington sorted through Daniel’s portfolio. “He really does have a villa in the south of France?” She always thought it a pipe dream of Daniel’s.
“Yes, yes, he does, along with a flat in London and a brownstone in New York. I have those papers here.” He raised his eyebrow a bit. “It also appears that he has several staff members in charge of maintaining each location. We’ll have to contact them and make arrangements for them to continue if we want to keep the properties.”
“Do you want them?”
“I should think so. It would be quite beneficial for the Remington Steele Agency to have locations
internationally. Not to mention having a handy place to go for a weekend jaunt.”
She laughed. “You just can’t stand the idea of giving up anything that might force us out of the office every so often. Your allergy to legwork is legendary.”
“Laura,” he drawled, “the agency has a reputation to maintain, and it is quite important to visit
occasionally to ensure the properties are being cared for properly.”
“Ah, I see.” She thought for a moment. “Mildred.”
“Mildred--Mildred, what?”
“Let’s send Mildred to check out the properties and Daniel’s portfolio. She’ll enjoy visiting and she can have a vacation in the meantime. She’s been wonderful about managing the agency these past few weeks even though I’m sure she’s been swamped. With all the traveling to Mexico, London and Ireland, you and I have been gone far too long. I’m sure she’ll enjoy staying at Daniel’s places. If I’ve learned anything about the two of you, it’s that you live first class all the way. She’ll like being pampered for a while. Maybe she can take Mickeline.” She referred to the major domo at Ashford Castle who appeared to be much taken with Mildred.
“You don’t want us to do it ourselves?” he sulked.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed our honeymoon, Remington, I want to go home.”
“Ah, home.” Remington looked down and pretended to nonchalantly sort papers. “Where are we going to live? My place or yours? Any thoughts on the matter?”
“Actually, yes, but I don’t have any answers. You hate the stairs in my loft and while I do like your place--after all, I rented it and furnished it in the beginning--I don’t think we can squeeze my piano into your living room.”
“Are you saying that if you could find a place for the piano, you wouldn’t be averse to living at my flat?”
“No. Not at all.” She enjoyed surprising him, but really, she'd only had her loft for a couple of years and it was still a rental.
“Hmmm.” He tapped his cheek.
“What’s that?”
“That, my dear Mrs. Steele, will have to wait until the morrow when I can do a little more research. I might have an idea or two you might like. But let’s make it a surprise, eh?” Laura thumped him on the shoulder before she returned to reading the stack of papers in front of her.
Tired from the long flight, both of them were glad to have Fred pick them up in the limousine. After the constant cool air of Ireland, LA’s balmy weather provided a welcome change, and they were both quick to shed their sweaters and coats.
Laura was somewhat apprehensive about their first night back in LA. Apparently, Remington was too, since he kept twining his fingers about hers during the long drive. Neither wanted to make assumptions about where they would sleep tonight, only that for certain they wanted to stay together.
“Do you mind if we go to my place for a few minutes so I can pick up some fresh clothes and get my mail?” she ventured, broaching the topic with hesitation in her voice.
“Of course not. Fred, stop by the loft first, please.”
“Yes, sir. Might I venture to add my congratulations?” He had noticed the wedding rings on the couple.
“Thank you, Fred.” Laura smiled.
“I have no idea why you need more clothes, love. You've brought half of Ireland back with us.”
She warmed at the endearment. She got a thrill every time he said it. “Me? Just because mine came back in a suitcase, and yours will be delivered by your tailor from London doesn’t mean I brought back any more than you,” she quipped. She rested her head on his shoulder.
*****
At the loft, while Remington waited patiently in the kitchen, Laura stuffed several changes of clothes into an extra suitcase and retrieved her favorite pillow from her bed while listening to her answering machine messages. She had only five, but three of them were from her mother, one from someone named Kate who was coming back on Friday, and the other from her sister, Frances. Laura wrinkled her nose and a little crinkle appeared on her brow.
“Family duty calling, eh?” Remington teased. He liked her family. They meant well despite driving Laura nutty most of the time.
“I’ll phone them tonight from your place.”
“Perfect. Ah, perhaps we can stop by the grocer’s on the way home? I’m rather in the mood for a decent meal this evening.”
Laura grinned. “You just want to putter around the kitchen. Oh well, I guess I’ll suffer your cooking.” She danced out of the way when Remington made to swat her on the rear.
“If there’s any suffering of anyone’s cooking, love, it’ll be mine to yours,” he retorted
She laughed at the old joke, but suddenly grew quiet as they locked the door and returned to the limo. He knew that look. It was Laura’s self-confidence taking a sudden nosedive. Fred held the door of the limo while they slid inside.
“Laura?” She was looking at her wedding ring, turning it over and over.
Earnest, she spoke up, “Remington, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m not much in the kitchen. I’m sure I can learn to cook and at least do my share. I’ll probably never be as good as you, but I will try.”
He took her very seriously and tipped her chin up to him. “Laura, I love to, as you put it, putter around in the kitchen. It brings me a great deal of pleasure. If you want to learn, by all means do so. But I didn’t fall in love with you because you could or could not cook. I don’t expect you to suddenly become Frances and be the domesticated housewife because we’re married.” He landed a light kiss on her lips. “I assure you, I’m much more interested in the skills I’ve discovered that you have in other parts of the house.” He wiggled his brows flirtatiously. “And if you want to try that in the kitchen, I’m sure I could accommodate you.” He leaned in for a kiss to let her know just how much she appealed to him. Laura’s chocolate eyes lit up, letting him know things were right in their world.
Later, the smell of duck confit drifted through the flat. Remington tossed a white dish towel over his shoulder as he mixed an arugula and endive salad. The telephone rang. And rang again. “Laura?” he called as he came out of the kitchen, carrying the salad bowl.
His wife threw him a quick grin as she dashed into the living room. “Sorry, I was unpacking my things into your bathroom. Hello? ... Oh hi, Mom.” Her voice dropped. Laura had left a message at her mom’s earlier.
Remington made a face at his salad and stepped back into the kitchen. He knew Abigail Holt only had her daughter’s happiness in mind, but he and Laura both wished she had a better understanding of what made her daughter happy.
“Yes, Mom. I know. If we had time to invite everyone to the wedding, we would have. ... Yes, I know getting married on a boat wasn’t exactly romantic. ... No, I’m not pregnant. ..."
Remington snorted under his breath. Laura? Pregnant? Even her mother should know better than that.
“What do you mean, was it legal? Of course, it was!” Laura's voice rose, the ire in it clear as day. “Mr. Steele is not my boss. He’s never BEEN my boss, Mom. ... Yes, we’ve been friends a long time. ... No, no, it really wasn’t as sudden as you think. I really did know what I was doing. ... What do you mean? Of course, I don’t think he married me just to immigrate to America. If he did, he wouldn’t have married me again in Ireland just to prove it!”
Uh oh, that let the cat out of the bag. He could hear Abigail’s shriek all the way in the kitchen. He leaned back to see Laura rubbing her temple while holding the phone about a foot away from her ear. He could tell from her chagrin that she’d had no intention of telling her mother about their second nuptials on their honeymoon.
Laura’s cool, calm tones took back control of the conversation. “Mother, stop. We’re married. The wedding is over and done. Whatever you want to do with that is up to you. ... Yes, I suppose you could send out announcements. ... What blessing?”
Remington could hear his wife’s voice drop. Naturally, he stopped stirring the green beans to listen. A man’s got to keep his hand in somehow.
“I ... haven’t thought about--I have no idea. I’ll have to talk to Mr. Steele about it. ... Can I call you tomorrow and let you know? ... Yes, we can get together on Saturday. All right, Mom. ... Yes, I love you too. Bye.”
Remington slipped his arms around his wife’s back before she could escape into the bathroom again. Whatever it was that Laura was supposed to talk to “Mr. Steele” about didn’t need to wait.
“Ask me about what?” he nuzzled her hair.
Laura rolled her eyes. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Laura, of course not. It goes entirely against my training.”
“As what--a detective or a con man?”
“Laura.” She could hear the warning in his voice. He wasn’t going to let her off with a joke.
She turned in his arms and nodded toward the kitchen. “Can we talk in there?”
“Of course.”
Laura perched on the sleek barstool while Remington finished glazing the green beans. When the silence stretched out, he poured a glass of wine from the bottle breathing on the counter and set it in front of her.
“Thanks.” She sipped, taking a moment to savored the wine's bouquet. “Um.” She traced patterns on the counter with her finger. “We’ve never talked about religion. I, ah, believe it’s a personal thing.” She rushed through the next part. “Whatever you do or don’t do is okay with me. I want you to know that.”
Remington moved the green beans to a back burner and turned the flame off before casually pouring his own glass of wine. He wanted to watch Laura’s body language as she talked.
She shifted in her chair. “Mom asked if we were going to have our marriage blessed by the Church. I, I was raised Catholic. I told her I didn’t know. We’ve never talked about anything like this.”
“Catholic? You?” he ventured. Laura occasionally surprised the hell out of him.
Defensively, she replied, “I know it’s not the usual thing in California--everyone is into free spirits and free will and all that, and that’s okay by me. But practically my whole neighborhood went to the same church.”
“Is this important to you?”
“No, not really ... maybe, I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Do you still go to church?”
“Sometimes.”
“Laura, do you want to have our marriage blessed?” he narrowed his eyes as he watched her.
Laura turned her wedding band around her finger. “It would make my mother happy since she didn’t get to come to our wedding. I’m sure she’ll want a reception and all the trappings that go with it. It doesn’t matter, though. I ... don’t even know if you were baptized or what you think about faith or ... or anything about that at all.”
Remington sighed. For a razor sharp detective, sometimes she could be so obtuse. “Laura, I’m Irish, remember, raised in and around Dublin. Of course, I’m Catholic. No matter what orphanage or family I was with, every Sunday I went to church until I ran away. I think I was even an altar boy for a while. I have no idea if I have a baptismal certificate somewhere, but I imagine it was done a time or even two, just in case.”
Laura bopped herself on the forehead. “Irish Catholic, of course,” she echoed. “Why are things so easy all of a sudden?”
“Perhaps because they were so difficult for so long. Now, let’s eat, love, and we’ll tell your mother the good news in the morning . Better yet, I’ll tell her and I’ll be her new favorite son-in-law.”
“Donald will be crushed.” She referred to her sister’s husband as she hopped off the stool and rounded the kitchen island.
“Yes, well, he’ll get used to it.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me and tell me we can make this work.” She wound her hands around his neck.
“We’ll make this work, Laura,” he trailed his fingers down her long throat, “because we want it.”
The next morning Laura rolled over in Remington’s huge bed, taking the black coverlet with her and leaving her husband with nary a sheet to cover his assets. Rudely awakened by the icy cold air blasting from the air conditioner, he attempted to free a measly few inches from underneath her and failed miserably. He tried snuggling up to her to take advantage of her obvious warmth, but that too proved futile. Grumbling to himself about the necessity of sharing more than just the actual marriage bed, he shuffled off to the bathroom.
*****
Hiding a grin, Laura peeked over the sheets as those same finely-muscled assets paraded across the room before the door blocked her view. Yawning hugely, she stretched, wincing a bit as she found sore muscles. Some were caused by the long flight, but others--well, her husband bore that responsibility. Despite their weariness from the trip, Remington managed to make their homecoming quite memorable. He seemed to think that every new moment in their relationship had to be celebrated with some sort of sexual escapade.
She certainly was a willing participant. After all, it was a bit like having a Ferrari at your fingertips. Even while driving 20 mph down a side road, the throbbing of the engine and the feeling of repressed power kept you revved for action.
From the bathroom, Remington cranked on the shower. She was sure it would be hot, just the way she liked it, too. Rising naked from the bed, Laura decided to give her new husband a steamy surprise.
Remington grumbled all the way to the office about the dangers of starting work too soon after a nice vacation. Laura ignored every word.
“Good morning, Mr. Steele, Mrs. Steele!” chirped Mildred.
“Good morning!” Laura practically sang.
Remington gave Mildred a peck on the cheek. “Good morning.”
“And how are you two lovebirds?”
“Absolutely delightful!”
Remington twitched a corner of his mouth at his wife.
“So, Mildred, tell me, what’s new?” Laura perched on the corner of the front desk and dropped her briefcase to the ground. She was practically floating with glee and rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
“Well, I’ve made a list of what needs to be done. You left a couple of cases hanging when you left, so you’ll need to close those out. I’ve done what I could, but one client is pretty irate at the delay.” She continued, “Here’s the list of people that want our services. I’ve told them all you were on your honeymoon and would call when you returned.” Pausing dramatically, she added, “But I’ve got the best news!”
“What’s that, Mildred?” That was from Remington, holding up the wall while he listened and chewed on a toothpick he found in his pocket.
“I got my private investigator's license while you were gone!” Her faced glowed pink with pride.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mildred!” Laura clapped her hands together. “How did you get it so quickly?”
“Well, it turns out that all the work I’ve been doing for you since I started counts toward the three-year requirement. Since you’ve always kept great records, I just pulled it all together and took the test while you two were in Mexico. All I need is your signature to make it official!”
“I suppose you’ll be wanting a raise now,” Remington commented drolly, gesturing at her with his
toothpick.
“Oh hush.” Laura took a paper from the desk and mock-swiped it at him. “Of course. And you deserve one.” The latter was directed at the beaming lady behind the desk. Tapping the paper on her chin, she mused, “You know, I think it’s time we expanded our operations. Mildred, you’re going to need your own office if you are going to be the lead I.T. investigator.”
“I.T.?”
“Information Technology.”
“Oh, I like that. That sounds so important.” Mildred fanned herself a bit. “What do you think, Mr. Steele?”
“Delightful. Laura, it appears that the agency is once again in your capable hands. Now, if you’ll excuse me ladies, I, ah, want to look in my office for a bit.” Remington bolted for his door.
“Don’t forget to call my mother,” Laura told his retreating form.
As soon as the door closed, Mildred leaned forward. “So Mrs. Steele, how was the honeymoon?” She wiggled her eyebrows comically.
“Perfect, Ms. Krebs. Absolutely perfect.”
“So tell me, why is Mr. Steele calling your mother?”
“Hmm, because apparently two weddings aren’t enough.”
“Two?” Mildred blinked in surprise.
Laura spent the remainder of the morning sorting through files and making phone calls, including the rather painful one to placate a wife sure that her husband was cheating on her. She promised to look into it right away. Given the information the wife had already provided, the detective felt certain some simple legwork and perhaps a photo or two would close the case, unfortunately confirming the client’s suspicions.
Another phone call to the building management revealed the availability of an expanded suite two floors up. She was thrilled to learn that the office could be remodeled to suit her needs. As she worked through the stack of files on her desk, she noticed that Remington’s phone line stayed lit up for most of the morning. Finally emerging shortly before lunchtime, Laura popped her head into his office. “Busy?”
He glanced down at the files and notes all over the desk. “No, of course not. That would imply that I’m actually working.”
All sly smiles, Laura sashayed to his desk and perched on the edge. “Have I mentioned how attractive I find you when you’re buried in paperwork?”
“Hmm, no, but please feel free to enlighten me.” He dropped his pen on the stack to nibble on her
fingers.
She walked them down his tie. “It makes you look so responsible, so serious. It’s very appealing. Did you call my mother?”
“Why do you think I’m doing paperwork?” he dodged. Laura picked up a file and tossed it at him. He caught it with a grin. “Of course, I did. She’s delighted and she’ll make all the arrangements. I’m now officially her new favorite son-in-law.”
“Hmmm. I suppose you think you deserve a kiss for that.” She reeled him in with the tie.
“It will do. For now.” Their mouths touched.
Mildred opened the door, catching them in a lip lock. Remington opened his blue eyes to see Laura’s brown ones dancing with laughter. “Perfect timing, Mildred.” She turned her head to look at her. “I wanted to see if you two want to look at an office suite that’s available upstairs.”
“Oooh, I’m in. Just let me put on the answering service. Got some more paperwork for you, Boss.” Mildred handed Remington a stack of files and chortled at his chagrin.
*****
The trio walked the new digs appreciatively. With a twinkle in his eye, Remington teased Laura, “Really now, darling, it’s just not the thing for your office to be the same size as mine. Why, no one will know who’s in charge of this operation.”
Laura caught his sly smile and strolled nonchalantly away from the windows. “Actually, those offices are mine and Mildred’s.” She pointed through the door into a tiny space she thought would make a nice file room. “That’s yours.”
Pretending insult, he sputtered, “I think we’ll discuss it at length, don’t you think? I mean, it just
wouldn’t do for the image you want me to project.” Mildred chuckled at the by-play as the couple
bantered easily.
She eyed the pair with happiness. She didn’t think she’d ever see the day that her kids would finally be together. But the conversation was easy, the tones light, and the newlyweds couldn’t seem to get within arms’ reach of each other without finding an excuse to touch. Repressed desire had been replaced by honest affection. She chortled to herself. It would be interesting watching the pair chart these new waters, especially when she caught Mrs. Steele unabashedly admiring Mr. Steele’s backside.
*****
That afternoon, Laura reviewed the contracts for the new lease and discussed the need to hire a new secretary with Mildred. Since their caseload was relatively light at the moment, it was a perfect time to make the changes that would expand the business.
She was quite proud of the way her agency had come along. Six years ago, she opened her one-person operation under the name Laura Holt. Now that she had two investigators working for her--well, as much as Remington worked for anyone--and she could see the definite possibility of bringing an intern into the company to do simple legwork and to handle some of the more routine cases.
Mildred had proved herself an excellent asset over the years. Many times her benign appearance gave her a real leg up when asking questions or while shadowing a suspicious character. In addition, her ability to finesse information from the computer was second to none. With her accounting and IRS background, there was no one better suited for interpreting financial records and finding the tiniest inconsistencies that lead to case resolution. A number of divorce cases were turned on end when Mildred presented accurate records of assets, despite shady transfers or sales.
It was also apparent that the firm was now handling a great deal of security for various events. Remington had a real knack for that end of the business. I can’t imagine why, she thought dryly. As a result, the agency had developed a solid reputation for providing top notch protection. She thought it might be wise to simply shift that part of the business to him instead of reviewing each case and handing it to him as she had in the past. Doing so would free Laura to pursue some of the more complex investigations requiring the extensive legwork she enjoyed.
She had to admit that she and Remington simply made an outstanding team. Her ability to sift through the most mundane details combined with his innate ability to connect the dots through sheer intuition--or perhaps it was that he understood the criminal mind; she was never sure--gave them the ability to solve even the most complex of crimes. In the most private corner of her mind, she knew that she would have built an agency without him, but she wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun.
As the clock closed in on four, jetlag finally caught up with her. She knocked on Remington’s door and found him reclining in his chair reading through property listings in the newspaper. Without even a touch of the arrogance that he so often demonstrated, he set his paper down onto his perfectly clean desk and crossed to capture her lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. Staggering a bit, Laura smiled softly and touched her bottom lip. “That is definitely a perk of being married. I don’t feel guilty about that at all.”
“No, and neither do I.” He brushed a kiss across her knuckles.
Curiosity got the best of her. “What have you been working on all day? Every time I’ve noticed, you’ve been on the phone.”
“Besides dealing with your mother and the stack of files Mildred plunked down on my desk?” He shot her a dirty look when she laughed. “I’ve been looking at properties that might suit the two of us. Care to go with me to look at one in particular I think you might like?”
“That sounds wonderful, but you have to take me to dinner afterward.”
“I’d be delighted, Mrs. Steele.”
*****
Remington drove Laura in the Auburn. He had missed this car. Laura had her eyes closed in the passenger seat while he skirted traffic on Wilshire Boulvard. “I’m thrilled Mildred has her license. It’s going to make things much easier around the office.”
“How so?” asked Remington.
“Well, I don’t have to sign off on everything she does. Of course, I’ll review the cases and help her when she needs it, but some of the things she does with accounting are out of my league anyway.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“You know, if my records are good enough for Mildred to prove her apprenticeship, they are certainly good enough to prove yours, Mr. Steele.”
“Mine?” Remington scowled at her when he stopped for a light.
“Certainly. I think I see a private investigator’s exam in your future.”
“You want me to take a test? Does the great Remington Steele take tests?” he quipped.
“Well, it would mean that my signature won’t be needed whenever you close a case--or sign a security contract.”
He turned to face her. “Is this Laura Holt I’m speaking with? The same Laura Holt that keeps every element of her life under her thumb.”
“No. This is Laura Steele.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “And Mrs. Steele thinks it’s a little silly to be reviewing her husband’s work all the time.”
Remington touched his cheek in confusion as the light changed to green.
*****
Laura was perplexed when they drove directly to Remington’s building. “But I thought--”
He put a finger to her lips. “Just a moment.”
She was even more bewildered when they walked to an elevator at the opposite end of the building; one she didn’t even know existed. He placed a passkey in the slot. “I didn’t know this was here. Where are we going?” she asked as the elevator carried them up.
“Well, I have an idea for where we could live.” The elevator doors opened to reveal an elegant foyer. Remington unlocked the glass door and held it open for Laura.
She wandered through the penthouse, admiring the slight traditional accents combined with an elegantly modern style. Warm hardwood floors accented with creamy ivory and black notes here and there were a perfect merging of his and her styles. She imagined her piano sitting just in front of the expansive tinted glass windows, looking over the city skyline. The kitchen, with its granite countertops and state of the art appliances, would be perfect for Remington’s efforts. Three bedrooms took up one end of the flat and a study and dining room took up the other. In the center, the kitchen overlooked the living room which spilled out onto a wide terrace. In moments, she fell in love.
“No one is living here? When did this become available?” Laura’s brain kicked in then, and her heart sank as she began to make mental calculations. “Remington, this is beautiful, absolutely lovely, but I think even a lease is a little outside the agency’s budget.”
Remington had been quietly following her from room to room. Now he took her hands and kissed them. “The agency doesn’t have to afford it. I own it.”
Laura’s jaw dropped as she sputtered. “But how? ... When? ... Huh?” she said intelligently.
“Laura, my love, there is no con in the world quite as sweet as the real estate market.” He patted her hand and began walking her through the flat. “The penthouse was put on the market a couple of years ago. I purchased it and leased it to a businessman wanting a spot to stay when he traveled to LA. We had a convenient arrangement. He had a place that wasn’t a hotel, and I could terminate the lease at any time.”
“But Remington, I thought the agency paid all your bills!” Laura stalked around the living room, trying to process what he’d said.
“It’s been a while since you’ve balanced the agency checkbook, hasn’t it? Mildred does a fine job in that area.” He didn't quite cover the glee in his voice.
“Then you never needed me to cover your expenses in the first place.”
“No, darling, that was something you volunteered to do. What was it that Daniel taught me? To squirrel away nuts here and there?” He grinned at her sudden discomfort at remembering her own words.
“Just how much real estate do you own?”
“Oh, a building here and there. Nothing too complex. I have a wonderful management company. Care to see my portfolio? I daresay it’s not as extensive as Daniel’s, but he had a bit of a headstart.” Remington couldn’t hide his smile. The surprise on Laura’s face was worth a fortune to him.
“I ought to make you pay me back for all the ‘expenses’ you’ve submitted.”
“Better check your books before you make that threat.” Remington took her face in his hands. “What do you think, Laura? Do you like it? Will you live here with me?”
Marveling at the way he continually astonished her, she said yes.
Chapter 5 -- Revelations
While flying home comfortably in first class, Laura and Remington sorted through Daniel’s portfolio. “He really does have a villa in the south of France?” She always thought it a pipe dream of Daniel’s.
“Yes, yes, he does, along with a flat in London and a brownstone in New York. I have those papers here.” He raised his eyebrow a bit. “It also appears that he has several staff members in charge of maintaining each location. We’ll have to contact them and make arrangements for them to continue if we want to keep the properties.”
“Do you want them?”
“I should think so. It would be quite beneficial for the Remington Steele Agency to have locations
internationally. Not to mention having a handy place to go for a weekend jaunt.”
She laughed. “You just can’t stand the idea of giving up anything that might force us out of the office every so often. Your allergy to legwork is legendary.”
“Laura,” he drawled, “the agency has a reputation to maintain, and it is quite important to visit
occasionally to ensure the properties are being cared for properly.”
“Ah, I see.” She thought for a moment. “Mildred.”
“Mildred--Mildred, what?”
“Let’s send Mildred to check out the properties and Daniel’s portfolio. She’ll enjoy visiting and she can have a vacation in the meantime. She’s been wonderful about managing the agency these past few weeks even though I’m sure she’s been swamped. With all the traveling to Mexico, London and Ireland, you and I have been gone far too long. I’m sure she’ll enjoy staying at Daniel’s places. If I’ve learned anything about the two of you, it’s that you live first class all the way. She’ll like being pampered for a while. Maybe she can take Mickeline.” She referred to the major domo at Ashford Castle who appeared to be much taken with Mildred.
“You don’t want us to do it ourselves?” he sulked.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed our honeymoon, Remington, I want to go home.”
“Ah, home.” Remington looked down and pretended to nonchalantly sort papers. “Where are we going to live? My place or yours? Any thoughts on the matter?”
“Actually, yes, but I don’t have any answers. You hate the stairs in my loft and while I do like your place--after all, I rented it and furnished it in the beginning--I don’t think we can squeeze my piano into your living room.”
“Are you saying that if you could find a place for the piano, you wouldn’t be averse to living at my flat?”
“No. Not at all.” She enjoyed surprising him, but really, she'd only had her loft for a couple of years and it was still a rental.
“Hmmm.” He tapped his cheek.
“What’s that?”
“That, my dear Mrs. Steele, will have to wait until the morrow when I can do a little more research. I might have an idea or two you might like. But let’s make it a surprise, eh?” Laura thumped him on the shoulder before she returned to reading the stack of papers in front of her.
Tired from the long flight, both of them were glad to have Fred pick them up in the limousine. After the constant cool air of Ireland, LA’s balmy weather provided a welcome change, and they were both quick to shed their sweaters and coats.
Laura was somewhat apprehensive about their first night back in LA. Apparently, Remington was too, since he kept twining his fingers about hers during the long drive. Neither wanted to make assumptions about where they would sleep tonight, only that for certain they wanted to stay together.
“Do you mind if we go to my place for a few minutes so I can pick up some fresh clothes and get my mail?” she ventured, broaching the topic with hesitation in her voice.
“Of course not. Fred, stop by the loft first, please.”
“Yes, sir. Might I venture to add my congratulations?” He had noticed the wedding rings on the couple.
“Thank you, Fred.” Laura smiled.
“I have no idea why you need more clothes, love. You've brought half of Ireland back with us.”
She warmed at the endearment. She got a thrill every time he said it. “Me? Just because mine came back in a suitcase, and yours will be delivered by your tailor from London doesn’t mean I brought back any more than you,” she quipped. She rested her head on his shoulder.
*****
At the loft, while Remington waited patiently in the kitchen, Laura stuffed several changes of clothes into an extra suitcase and retrieved her favorite pillow from her bed while listening to her answering machine messages. She had only five, but three of them were from her mother, one from someone named Kate who was coming back on Friday, and the other from her sister, Frances. Laura wrinkled her nose and a little crinkle appeared on her brow.
“Family duty calling, eh?” Remington teased. He liked her family. They meant well despite driving Laura nutty most of the time.
“I’ll phone them tonight from your place.”
“Perfect. Ah, perhaps we can stop by the grocer’s on the way home? I’m rather in the mood for a decent meal this evening.”
Laura grinned. “You just want to putter around the kitchen. Oh well, I guess I’ll suffer your cooking.” She danced out of the way when Remington made to swat her on the rear.
“If there’s any suffering of anyone’s cooking, love, it’ll be mine to yours,” he retorted
She laughed at the old joke, but suddenly grew quiet as they locked the door and returned to the limo. He knew that look. It was Laura’s self-confidence taking a sudden nosedive. Fred held the door of the limo while they slid inside.
“Laura?” She was looking at her wedding ring, turning it over and over.
Earnest, she spoke up, “Remington, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m not much in the kitchen. I’m sure I can learn to cook and at least do my share. I’ll probably never be as good as you, but I will try.”
He took her very seriously and tipped her chin up to him. “Laura, I love to, as you put it, putter around in the kitchen. It brings me a great deal of pleasure. If you want to learn, by all means do so. But I didn’t fall in love with you because you could or could not cook. I don’t expect you to suddenly become Frances and be the domesticated housewife because we’re married.” He landed a light kiss on her lips. “I assure you, I’m much more interested in the skills I’ve discovered that you have in other parts of the house.” He wiggled his brows flirtatiously. “And if you want to try that in the kitchen, I’m sure I could accommodate you.” He leaned in for a kiss to let her know just how much she appealed to him. Laura’s chocolate eyes lit up, letting him know things were right in their world.
Later, the smell of duck confit drifted through the flat. Remington tossed a white dish towel over his shoulder as he mixed an arugula and endive salad. The telephone rang. And rang again. “Laura?” he called as he came out of the kitchen, carrying the salad bowl.
His wife threw him a quick grin as she dashed into the living room. “Sorry, I was unpacking my things into your bathroom. Hello? ... Oh hi, Mom.” Her voice dropped. Laura had left a message at her mom’s earlier.
Remington made a face at his salad and stepped back into the kitchen. He knew Abigail Holt only had her daughter’s happiness in mind, but he and Laura both wished she had a better understanding of what made her daughter happy.
“Yes, Mom. I know. If we had time to invite everyone to the wedding, we would have. ... Yes, I know getting married on a boat wasn’t exactly romantic. ... No, I’m not pregnant. ..."
Remington snorted under his breath. Laura? Pregnant? Even her mother should know better than that.
“What do you mean, was it legal? Of course, it was!” Laura's voice rose, the ire in it clear as day. “Mr. Steele is not my boss. He’s never BEEN my boss, Mom. ... Yes, we’ve been friends a long time. ... No, no, it really wasn’t as sudden as you think. I really did know what I was doing. ... What do you mean? Of course, I don’t think he married me just to immigrate to America. If he did, he wouldn’t have married me again in Ireland just to prove it!”
Uh oh, that let the cat out of the bag. He could hear Abigail’s shriek all the way in the kitchen. He leaned back to see Laura rubbing her temple while holding the phone about a foot away from her ear. He could tell from her chagrin that she’d had no intention of telling her mother about their second nuptials on their honeymoon.
Laura’s cool, calm tones took back control of the conversation. “Mother, stop. We’re married. The wedding is over and done. Whatever you want to do with that is up to you. ... Yes, I suppose you could send out announcements. ... What blessing?”
Remington could hear his wife’s voice drop. Naturally, he stopped stirring the green beans to listen. A man’s got to keep his hand in somehow.
“I ... haven’t thought about--I have no idea. I’ll have to talk to Mr. Steele about it. ... Can I call you tomorrow and let you know? ... Yes, we can get together on Saturday. All right, Mom. ... Yes, I love you too. Bye.”
Remington slipped his arms around his wife’s back before she could escape into the bathroom again. Whatever it was that Laura was supposed to talk to “Mr. Steele” about didn’t need to wait.
“Ask me about what?” he nuzzled her hair.
Laura rolled her eyes. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Laura, of course not. It goes entirely against my training.”
“As what--a detective or a con man?”
“Laura.” She could hear the warning in his voice. He wasn’t going to let her off with a joke.
She turned in his arms and nodded toward the kitchen. “Can we talk in there?”
“Of course.”
Laura perched on the sleek barstool while Remington finished glazing the green beans. When the silence stretched out, he poured a glass of wine from the bottle breathing on the counter and set it in front of her.
“Thanks.” She sipped, taking a moment to savored the wine's bouquet. “Um.” She traced patterns on the counter with her finger. “We’ve never talked about religion. I, ah, believe it’s a personal thing.” She rushed through the next part. “Whatever you do or don’t do is okay with me. I want you to know that.”
Remington moved the green beans to a back burner and turned the flame off before casually pouring his own glass of wine. He wanted to watch Laura’s body language as she talked.
She shifted in her chair. “Mom asked if we were going to have our marriage blessed by the Church. I, I was raised Catholic. I told her I didn’t know. We’ve never talked about anything like this.”
“Catholic? You?” he ventured. Laura occasionally surprised the hell out of him.
Defensively, she replied, “I know it’s not the usual thing in California--everyone is into free spirits and free will and all that, and that’s okay by me. But practically my whole neighborhood went to the same church.”
“Is this important to you?”
“No, not really ... maybe, I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Do you still go to church?”
“Sometimes.”
“Laura, do you want to have our marriage blessed?” he narrowed his eyes as he watched her.
Laura turned her wedding band around her finger. “It would make my mother happy since she didn’t get to come to our wedding. I’m sure she’ll want a reception and all the trappings that go with it. It doesn’t matter, though. I ... don’t even know if you were baptized or what you think about faith or ... or anything about that at all.”
Remington sighed. For a razor sharp detective, sometimes she could be so obtuse. “Laura, I’m Irish, remember, raised in and around Dublin. Of course, I’m Catholic. No matter what orphanage or family I was with, every Sunday I went to church until I ran away. I think I was even an altar boy for a while. I have no idea if I have a baptismal certificate somewhere, but I imagine it was done a time or even two, just in case.”
Laura bopped herself on the forehead. “Irish Catholic, of course,” she echoed. “Why are things so easy all of a sudden?”
“Perhaps because they were so difficult for so long. Now, let’s eat, love, and we’ll tell your mother the good news in the morning . Better yet, I’ll tell her and I’ll be her new favorite son-in-law.”
“Donald will be crushed.” She referred to her sister’s husband as she hopped off the stool and rounded the kitchen island.
“Yes, well, he’ll get used to it.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me and tell me we can make this work.” She wound her hands around his neck.
“We’ll make this work, Laura,” he trailed his fingers down her long throat, “because we want it.”
The next morning Laura rolled over in Remington’s huge bed, taking the black coverlet with her and leaving her husband with nary a sheet to cover his assets. Rudely awakened by the icy cold air blasting from the air conditioner, he attempted to free a measly few inches from underneath her and failed miserably. He tried snuggling up to her to take advantage of her obvious warmth, but that too proved futile. Grumbling to himself about the necessity of sharing more than just the actual marriage bed, he shuffled off to the bathroom.
*****
Hiding a grin, Laura peeked over the sheets as those same finely-muscled assets paraded across the room before the door blocked her view. Yawning hugely, she stretched, wincing a bit as she found sore muscles. Some were caused by the long flight, but others--well, her husband bore that responsibility. Despite their weariness from the trip, Remington managed to make their homecoming quite memorable. He seemed to think that every new moment in their relationship had to be celebrated with some sort of sexual escapade.
She certainly was a willing participant. After all, it was a bit like having a Ferrari at your fingertips. Even while driving 20 mph down a side road, the throbbing of the engine and the feeling of repressed power kept you revved for action.
From the bathroom, Remington cranked on the shower. She was sure it would be hot, just the way she liked it, too. Rising naked from the bed, Laura decided to give her new husband a steamy surprise.
Remington grumbled all the way to the office about the dangers of starting work too soon after a nice vacation. Laura ignored every word.
“Good morning, Mr. Steele, Mrs. Steele!” chirped Mildred.
“Good morning!” Laura practically sang.
Remington gave Mildred a peck on the cheek. “Good morning.”
“And how are you two lovebirds?”
“Absolutely delightful!”
Remington twitched a corner of his mouth at his wife.
“So, Mildred, tell me, what’s new?” Laura perched on the corner of the front desk and dropped her briefcase to the ground. She was practically floating with glee and rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
“Well, I’ve made a list of what needs to be done. You left a couple of cases hanging when you left, so you’ll need to close those out. I’ve done what I could, but one client is pretty irate at the delay.” She continued, “Here’s the list of people that want our services. I’ve told them all you were on your honeymoon and would call when you returned.” Pausing dramatically, she added, “But I’ve got the best news!”
“What’s that, Mildred?” That was from Remington, holding up the wall while he listened and chewed on a toothpick he found in his pocket.
“I got my private investigator's license while you were gone!” Her faced glowed pink with pride.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mildred!” Laura clapped her hands together. “How did you get it so quickly?”
“Well, it turns out that all the work I’ve been doing for you since I started counts toward the three-year requirement. Since you’ve always kept great records, I just pulled it all together and took the test while you two were in Mexico. All I need is your signature to make it official!”
“I suppose you’ll be wanting a raise now,” Remington commented drolly, gesturing at her with his
toothpick.
“Oh hush.” Laura took a paper from the desk and mock-swiped it at him. “Of course. And you deserve one.” The latter was directed at the beaming lady behind the desk. Tapping the paper on her chin, she mused, “You know, I think it’s time we expanded our operations. Mildred, you’re going to need your own office if you are going to be the lead I.T. investigator.”
“I.T.?”
“Information Technology.”
“Oh, I like that. That sounds so important.” Mildred fanned herself a bit. “What do you think, Mr. Steele?”
“Delightful. Laura, it appears that the agency is once again in your capable hands. Now, if you’ll excuse me ladies, I, ah, want to look in my office for a bit.” Remington bolted for his door.
“Don’t forget to call my mother,” Laura told his retreating form.
As soon as the door closed, Mildred leaned forward. “So Mrs. Steele, how was the honeymoon?” She wiggled her eyebrows comically.
“Perfect, Ms. Krebs. Absolutely perfect.”
“So tell me, why is Mr. Steele calling your mother?”
“Hmm, because apparently two weddings aren’t enough.”
“Two?” Mildred blinked in surprise.
Laura spent the remainder of the morning sorting through files and making phone calls, including the rather painful one to placate a wife sure that her husband was cheating on her. She promised to look into it right away. Given the information the wife had already provided, the detective felt certain some simple legwork and perhaps a photo or two would close the case, unfortunately confirming the client’s suspicions.
Another phone call to the building management revealed the availability of an expanded suite two floors up. She was thrilled to learn that the office could be remodeled to suit her needs. As she worked through the stack of files on her desk, she noticed that Remington’s phone line stayed lit up for most of the morning. Finally emerging shortly before lunchtime, Laura popped her head into his office. “Busy?”
He glanced down at the files and notes all over the desk. “No, of course not. That would imply that I’m actually working.”
All sly smiles, Laura sashayed to his desk and perched on the edge. “Have I mentioned how attractive I find you when you’re buried in paperwork?”
“Hmm, no, but please feel free to enlighten me.” He dropped his pen on the stack to nibble on her
fingers.
She walked them down his tie. “It makes you look so responsible, so serious. It’s very appealing. Did you call my mother?”
“Why do you think I’m doing paperwork?” he dodged. Laura picked up a file and tossed it at him. He caught it with a grin. “Of course, I did. She’s delighted and she’ll make all the arrangements. I’m now officially her new favorite son-in-law.”
“Hmmm. I suppose you think you deserve a kiss for that.” She reeled him in with the tie.
“It will do. For now.” Their mouths touched.
Mildred opened the door, catching them in a lip lock. Remington opened his blue eyes to see Laura’s brown ones dancing with laughter. “Perfect timing, Mildred.” She turned her head to look at her. “I wanted to see if you two want to look at an office suite that’s available upstairs.”
“Oooh, I’m in. Just let me put on the answering service. Got some more paperwork for you, Boss.” Mildred handed Remington a stack of files and chortled at his chagrin.
*****
The trio walked the new digs appreciatively. With a twinkle in his eye, Remington teased Laura, “Really now, darling, it’s just not the thing for your office to be the same size as mine. Why, no one will know who’s in charge of this operation.”
Laura caught his sly smile and strolled nonchalantly away from the windows. “Actually, those offices are mine and Mildred’s.” She pointed through the door into a tiny space she thought would make a nice file room. “That’s yours.”
Pretending insult, he sputtered, “I think we’ll discuss it at length, don’t you think? I mean, it just
wouldn’t do for the image you want me to project.” Mildred chuckled at the by-play as the couple
bantered easily.
She eyed the pair with happiness. She didn’t think she’d ever see the day that her kids would finally be together. But the conversation was easy, the tones light, and the newlyweds couldn’t seem to get within arms’ reach of each other without finding an excuse to touch. Repressed desire had been replaced by honest affection. She chortled to herself. It would be interesting watching the pair chart these new waters, especially when she caught Mrs. Steele unabashedly admiring Mr. Steele’s backside.
*****
That afternoon, Laura reviewed the contracts for the new lease and discussed the need to hire a new secretary with Mildred. Since their caseload was relatively light at the moment, it was a perfect time to make the changes that would expand the business.
She was quite proud of the way her agency had come along. Six years ago, she opened her one-person operation under the name Laura Holt. Now that she had two investigators working for her--well, as much as Remington worked for anyone--and she could see the definite possibility of bringing an intern into the company to do simple legwork and to handle some of the more routine cases.
Mildred had proved herself an excellent asset over the years. Many times her benign appearance gave her a real leg up when asking questions or while shadowing a suspicious character. In addition, her ability to finesse information from the computer was second to none. With her accounting and IRS background, there was no one better suited for interpreting financial records and finding the tiniest inconsistencies that lead to case resolution. A number of divorce cases were turned on end when Mildred presented accurate records of assets, despite shady transfers or sales.
It was also apparent that the firm was now handling a great deal of security for various events. Remington had a real knack for that end of the business. I can’t imagine why, she thought dryly. As a result, the agency had developed a solid reputation for providing top notch protection. She thought it might be wise to simply shift that part of the business to him instead of reviewing each case and handing it to him as she had in the past. Doing so would free Laura to pursue some of the more complex investigations requiring the extensive legwork she enjoyed.
She had to admit that she and Remington simply made an outstanding team. Her ability to sift through the most mundane details combined with his innate ability to connect the dots through sheer intuition--or perhaps it was that he understood the criminal mind; she was never sure--gave them the ability to solve even the most complex of crimes. In the most private corner of her mind, she knew that she would have built an agency without him, but she wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun.
As the clock closed in on four, jetlag finally caught up with her. She knocked on Remington’s door and found him reclining in his chair reading through property listings in the newspaper. Without even a touch of the arrogance that he so often demonstrated, he set his paper down onto his perfectly clean desk and crossed to capture her lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. Staggering a bit, Laura smiled softly and touched her bottom lip. “That is definitely a perk of being married. I don’t feel guilty about that at all.”
“No, and neither do I.” He brushed a kiss across her knuckles.
Curiosity got the best of her. “What have you been working on all day? Every time I’ve noticed, you’ve been on the phone.”
“Besides dealing with your mother and the stack of files Mildred plunked down on my desk?” He shot her a dirty look when she laughed. “I’ve been looking at properties that might suit the two of us. Care to go with me to look at one in particular I think you might like?”
“That sounds wonderful, but you have to take me to dinner afterward.”
“I’d be delighted, Mrs. Steele.”
*****
Remington drove Laura in the Auburn. He had missed this car. Laura had her eyes closed in the passenger seat while he skirted traffic on Wilshire Boulvard. “I’m thrilled Mildred has her license. It’s going to make things much easier around the office.”
“How so?” asked Remington.
“Well, I don’t have to sign off on everything she does. Of course, I’ll review the cases and help her when she needs it, but some of the things she does with accounting are out of my league anyway.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“You know, if my records are good enough for Mildred to prove her apprenticeship, they are certainly good enough to prove yours, Mr. Steele.”
“Mine?” Remington scowled at her when he stopped for a light.
“Certainly. I think I see a private investigator’s exam in your future.”
“You want me to take a test? Does the great Remington Steele take tests?” he quipped.
“Well, it would mean that my signature won’t be needed whenever you close a case--or sign a security contract.”
He turned to face her. “Is this Laura Holt I’m speaking with? The same Laura Holt that keeps every element of her life under her thumb.”
“No. This is Laura Steele.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “And Mrs. Steele thinks it’s a little silly to be reviewing her husband’s work all the time.”
Remington touched his cheek in confusion as the light changed to green.
*****
Laura was perplexed when they drove directly to Remington’s building. “But I thought--”
He put a finger to her lips. “Just a moment.”
She was even more bewildered when they walked to an elevator at the opposite end of the building; one she didn’t even know existed. He placed a passkey in the slot. “I didn’t know this was here. Where are we going?” she asked as the elevator carried them up.
“Well, I have an idea for where we could live.” The elevator doors opened to reveal an elegant foyer. Remington unlocked the glass door and held it open for Laura.
She wandered through the penthouse, admiring the slight traditional accents combined with an elegantly modern style. Warm hardwood floors accented with creamy ivory and black notes here and there were a perfect merging of his and her styles. She imagined her piano sitting just in front of the expansive tinted glass windows, looking over the city skyline. The kitchen, with its granite countertops and state of the art appliances, would be perfect for Remington’s efforts. Three bedrooms took up one end of the flat and a study and dining room took up the other. In the center, the kitchen overlooked the living room which spilled out onto a wide terrace. In moments, she fell in love.
“No one is living here? When did this become available?” Laura’s brain kicked in then, and her heart sank as she began to make mental calculations. “Remington, this is beautiful, absolutely lovely, but I think even a lease is a little outside the agency’s budget.”
Remington had been quietly following her from room to room. Now he took her hands and kissed them. “The agency doesn’t have to afford it. I own it.”
Laura’s jaw dropped as she sputtered. “But how? ... When? ... Huh?” she said intelligently.
“Laura, my love, there is no con in the world quite as sweet as the real estate market.” He patted her hand and began walking her through the flat. “The penthouse was put on the market a couple of years ago. I purchased it and leased it to a businessman wanting a spot to stay when he traveled to LA. We had a convenient arrangement. He had a place that wasn’t a hotel, and I could terminate the lease at any time.”
“But Remington, I thought the agency paid all your bills!” Laura stalked around the living room, trying to process what he’d said.
“It’s been a while since you’ve balanced the agency checkbook, hasn’t it? Mildred does a fine job in that area.” He didn't quite cover the glee in his voice.
“Then you never needed me to cover your expenses in the first place.”
“No, darling, that was something you volunteered to do. What was it that Daniel taught me? To squirrel away nuts here and there?” He grinned at her sudden discomfort at remembering her own words.
“Just how much real estate do you own?”
“Oh, a building here and there. Nothing too complex. I have a wonderful management company. Care to see my portfolio? I daresay it’s not as extensive as Daniel’s, but he had a bit of a headstart.” Remington couldn’t hide his smile. The surprise on Laura’s face was worth a fortune to him.
“I ought to make you pay me back for all the ‘expenses’ you’ve submitted.”
“Better check your books before you make that threat.” Remington took her face in his hands. “What do you think, Laura? Do you like it? Will you live here with me?”
Marveling at the way he continually astonished her, she said yes.
Chapter 5 -- Revelations