"I hope so," Laura said. "You two ARE still coming to the house for dinner this evening, I hope?" she asked, looking from Jessica to Tony.
In the reception area for Remington Steele Investigations, Mildred Krebs looked up with a welcoming smile as she heard the soft "swoosh" of the glass doors opening to admit a possible client. That smile faltered slightly as she took in the petite Hispanic woman wearing a skirt that was FAR too short, a flounced, low-cut blouse, and too much makeup on her otherwise attractive face. She waited for the woman to approach the desk. "May I help you?" she asked, wondering why that face seemed familiar.
"Is Antonio here?"
Mildred had a brief flash of the Mexican bombshell accosting Tony in Las Hadas, while they were trying to distract Norman Keyes' "neice". "He's in a meeting. Do you have an appointment?"
"Oh, we're old friends," the woman said with a knowing smile. "I'm sure he will see me."
Mildred rose from the desk. "Why don't you wait in Tony's office," she suggested, grabbing the young woman's arm and half dragging her across the carpeted floor. "I'll send him right in after he finishes with his meeting." She closed the door, grabbed a folder from her desk, then approached Mr. Steele's office. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. "Okay, Roselli!" she said, waving the folder in front of the startled man. "How many times do we have to go over these expense reports before you get it right?!"
She ignored the other three sets of startled eyes to focus on her quarry. "What are you talking about, Mildred?" Tony replied as she grabbed his arm and started dragging him toward the door. "You said they were okay!"
"That was before I saw the deduction for that little Mexican dish," she replied, pulling him out and closing the door behind her, noticing the confused looks of Mr. and Mrs. Steele and Miss Beecham.
Tony pulled his arm free. "What the HELL are you talking about, Mildred? What Mexican dish?"
"The one from Mexico, remember? The little senorita who jumped into the airport van?"
"Conchita?" Tony questioned, looking around. "She's HERE?"
"You got it, pal."
"Where is she?"
"I stashed her in your office," Mildred told him. "Exactly who IS she anyway? Or should I even bother to ask?"
"She was my secretary," Tony explained, looking nervously toward the door of Steele's office.
"SURE she was," Mildred replied with a disapproving look.
Tony turned toward his office as the door opened and Conchita threw herself into his arms. "Hola, Antonio!" she said, pressing her lips to his before he could stop her- at the same exact moment that Steele's door opened.
"We'll be there, Laura," Jessica was saying, "IF Antony can escape from Mildred's clutches-," only to stop in her tracks upon seeing the woman hanging on Tony.
Laura and Remington exchanged a glance as Tony finally gained his release from the woman. Conchita grinned at them, lifting a hand to wiggle her fingers. "Hola."
"It's the lint," Laura commented with a sour expression. Remington lifted a brow in surprise.
"Jess," Tony began, but Jessica was already heading toward the door.
"I really have to get back to the office," she said.
"Jess, wait-," he tried again, attempting to remove Conchita's hands from his jacket.
"You have- company, Antony," she told him, sparing a brief glance in Conchita's direction. "We'll- talk later."
"Antonio," Conchita pouted, "you're not happy to see me?"
"Excuse me, Miss-," Laura began.
"de la Vega," Tony supplied, as he grabbed Conchita's arm and dragged her to his office. "I'll make the introductions later. Excuse us." Once inside the office, Tony found himself backed against the door as Conchita threw herself at him again.
"I tried, Chief," Mildred pointed out. "But she refused to stay where I put her."
Remington's thoughtful look wasn't lost on his wife, and as he started for the front doors, Laura grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"
"To talk to Jessica."
"Why don't you let me do that?" Laura suggested. "Considering your track record where she and Tony are concerned, the LAST thing she needs is your telling her what a creep he is."
"Laura, the man's ex-girlfriend shows up on the doorstep, and flaunts herself in front of -," he stopped as he saw both Laura AND Mildred looking at him. Realizing that he had VERY little room to talk on this particular subject, he sighed. "She's my sister, Laura."
"Which is another VERY good reason for me to talk to her and not you."
"You can't very well expect me to just sit here and do nothing."
"I don't," she said. "While I'm talking to Jessica, YOU can go talk to Mr. Devonshire about the Morgan case."
"Legwork?"
"It's a good way to get rid of frustration, remember? Where's that address, Mildred?"
Mildred handed her the paper with the information on Lou Devonshire. "Here you go, Mrs. Steele."
Laura glanced at it, then handed it to her husband. "Now go on. I'll handle Jessica."
Remington glanced toward Tony's office. "But who's going to handle Antony?" he mused, then, seeing Laura's expression, he left the office.
Laura turned to Mildred. "I'll be upstairs at Jessica's office," she said, then pointed at Tony's door. "IF he comes out, make sure he stays put, okay?"
"I'll glue his feet to the floor, Mrs. Steele," Mildred assured her.
Tony pushed the woman away, forcing her into a chair. "Conchita, what the HELL are you doing in Los Angeles?"
Conchita's lips formed a pout as she sat there. "I came to see you."
"How did you GET here?" he asked. "I left you at Las Hadas, remember? You were going back to Mexico City."
"I did go back. Then about a week ago, someone contacted me, said that they would sponsor me so that I could come to Los Angeles and see you again. I even have a job." She touched his denim clad leg. "So we can see each other as much as we want. Unless-you no longer think me-attractive."
"Oh, you're attractive," he agreed, taking a deep breath and moving out of her reach. "But - well-," he paused, knowing that she wasn't going to like what he was going to say.
"But? It's still her, isn't it? That gringa brunette?"
"Laura? Conchita, she's my boss! And she's married, for God's sake!"
"That didn't matter in Mexico! You were still sniffing after her-," she accused.
"I was trying to save my job." So that wasn't entirely the truth, but the rest didn't matter anymore.
"Then it's the other gringa, maybe? The one who talks funny?"
"Conchita, stop," he said, batting her hand away again. "Look, we can't talk here."
She rose from the chair again to walk her fingers up his chest. "I understand, Antonio. Meet me later?"
Tony grabbed her hand. "I'll try," he told her. "Things are different now, Conchita."
"You always say that," she reminded him, sliding her arms around his neck. "Until we get into bed."
He pulled her arms away and held held them. "Go home, Conchita."
"But my home is with you, Antonio. All the plans we made during those two years we were together- don't tell me you've forgotten them." When Tony hesitated, Conchita threw off his hands and broke into a torrent of Spanish, accusing him of just having used her until he found something better, of never having cared for her as he had claimed.
Tony knew he well enough that she would exhaust herself if he let her continue, so he sat back against the desk, watching as she berated him.
Laura smiled at Jessica's secretary. "Hello, Marie. Is she in there?"
"Yes, Mrs. Steele, but she left word that she wasn't to be disturbed."
Laura simply smiled and sailed into Jessica's office with a brief knock. "Marie, I told you that-," she began, as Laura came in. She was standing by the window, her pose reminding Laura of Remington.
"She told me," Laura said, causing Jessica to glance around. "I didn't listen. Thought you might need someone to talk to."
"I'm not sure I'm in the mood to talk at the moment, Laura," the woman said, fingering the curtain.
"No, you're rather brood and imagine all sorts of terrible things."
"Brood? About what? There's nothing to brood about. Antony and I don't have any hold on each other. We're both free agents. If he wants to see that little-," she broke off. "If he wants to see someone else, I can't stop him."
"Aren't you the least curious about who she is?"
"Not in the slightest," Jessica said. But Laura kept her eyes on her sister in law, and at last the woman sighed. "All right, yes. Who IS she?"
"Her name is Conchita de la Vega. I only saw her one other time- when Remington and I were in Las Hadas, on our honeymoon. Where we first met Tony." She proceeded to tell her about hiding an on the run Remington under the bed, and how he had come back out once the coast was clear complaining about the lint under there. "I was the last to leave the room, and when I looked back, there she was, sliding out from under the bed."
"And you think Antony put her there to hide her from you?"
"Probably."
"Did you ever ask him about her?"
"I never had reason to. I was trying to save Remington's life, remember? And get my OWN marriage on the right track. If forgot about the lint as soon as I left the room."
"Why do you think she's here?"
"Probably just for a visit."
Jessica moved to the conference area and sat down. "I know so little about his life before he and I met," she sighed. "I thought I'd prepared myself to be confronted by bits and pieces of it- even old old girlfriends."
Laura sat down in the chair. "Take it from someone who's been there, Jessica. It's not that easy to prepare yourself for something like that."
Jessica's eyes found her. "Felicia?"
"Among others. For awhile, it seemed as if they were everywhere. Everytime I turned around, it seemed as if there was someone else from his mysterious past suddenly re-entering his life."
"How did you handle it?"
"Not very well, usually," Laura admitted with a rueful smile. "I was jealous- and believe me, your brother ate that up."
"I'm sure he did," Jessica said, then sighed. "Oh, Laura. What other little surprises can I expect out of Antony's mysterious past, I wonder?"
"I wish I knew. I wish I had all the answers for you- but I don't even have them all for myself." Seeing Jessica's surprise, Laura continued. "There are still huge- gaps in Remington's past that I don't know anything about."
"Have you asked?"
"There was a time when I would have given anything to know every little detail, Jessica," Laura confessed. "But I've come to realize that he wouldn't be the man I fell in love with if I knew everything. If I ask, he'll answer the question. But he also tells me things when I don't ask- when he's ready to talk. There are some things about his life- his childhood especially- that he doesn't like to think about, much less talk about."
Jessica nodded. "So what do you suggest I do?"
"Be there for him. Let him know you care. But you can't force him to come to you."
"I know that." The intercom buzzed, and Jessica pressed the button on the nearby extension. "Yes, Margie?"
"Mr. Halloran is here for his appointment, Miss Beecham."
"I'll be right out." She pressed the button again. "Duty calls."
Laura rose as Jessica did. "You'll still be at the house for dinner this evening?"
"Yes. But I might be alone."
"That will be fine, too." Laura turned to her sister in law as she opened the door. "See you later."
"Thank you."
"Conchita -," he tried to say, but she wasn't listening. "SILENCIO!" Conchita fell silent, glaring at him. "Give me a number where I can reach you. I'll call you."
She grabbed the notepad he held out and wrote a number on it. "It's where I work," she told him.
"Okay. Now go back to work or wherever," he said, opening the door and leading her toward the doors as Mildred watched with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. The doors opened as they got there to admit Remington, who stepped back, allowing Tony to pull Conchita into the hall and toward the elevators. "I'll walk her down," he told Remington, who nodded.
Mildred got up. "You'd better get back up here, Tony," she called after them. "Mrs. Steele wants to talk to you!" Tony grimaced and nodded as he and Conchita turned the corner.
Remington looked after them. "That may have been a tactical error on your part, Mildred," he commented, following her back into the office.
Mildred looked at him with a frown. "What do you mean, Chief?"
"How anxious do you think Antony is to be lectured by Laura OR me, eh?"
"You're right," Mildred sighed. "Mrs. Steele's going to be furious." She looked at him. "You're back sooner than expected."
"Devonshire wasn't in," he explained as Laura entered the office.
"Then go find him," she suggested, pointing toward Tony's office. "Are they still in there?" she asked Mildred.
"He and the young lady left just as I was returning," Remington explained. "He said he was going to walk her downstairs. How's Jessica?"
"Upset. Understandably. Apparently Tony's been as forthcoming about HIS past as you always were about YOURS."
"Probably just trying to protect Jessica," Remington suggested, grimacing at Mildred as he followed Laura into her office, where she sat down behind the desk and began putting things into the leather briefcase that he'd gotten her while she was working at home before Patrick had been born six months ago. "You have to remember, Laura, in his line of work, he probably had to do some things that-," he stopped as she looked up at him.
"You're PROTECTING him! Taking his side!"
"Of course I'm not," Remington insisted. "It's just that -," he found himself unable to finish as she pushed him out of the way to get a folder from the file cabinet behind him.
"Why should I be surprised? You're really two of a kind, you and Tony."
"Tony and me? Two of a kind?" he repeated in shocked surprise. "Really, Laura, that's hitting a bit below the belt, don't you think? I mean, I admit that I might not have always been totally forthright and open about my past with you, - but surely you know by now that all you have to do is ask and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
Laura took a deep breath and put down the case. "I know," she said softly, turning into his arms. "I'm sorry. It's just- seeing Jessica's reaction to this reminded me of- other times."
"A bit of déjà vu, eh?" he asked, dropping a kiss onto her lips. "I know. Felt a bit of it myself. But that's behind us, Laura. I love you, and there's no one that can ever change that."
Laura pressed her cheek against his chest. "I'm sorry."
"You said that already. And you've no reason to ask forgiveness. I'm the one who's sorry for having put you through so much." He lifted her face to give her a long kiss. "Is Jessica still coming to dinner?"
"Yes."
Tony saw Conchita into a cab, then turned back toward the building, hesitating. He wasn't ready to face Laura, or Steele- or Jess just yet. He needed to figure out exactly what he was going to tell them that wasn't going to make him look like a total ass.
Going home was out of the question. Knowing Laura, she already had Mildred calling every five minutes. He went back into the building, then to the parking garage, where he got into his car and turned toward his apartment. He'd walk to the beach from there. It would give him a chance to think.
By the time he left the beach, he'd decided to simply tell Jess the truth. That he and Conchita had lived together for the better part of two years while he travelled all over Mexico and S. America trying to find a way to get back into his bosses' good graces. Of course, that was going to open up that whole can of worms about WHY he'd fallen from grace to begin with, he reminded himself. Glancing at his watch as he walked past his car he realized that he was going to be late for dinner at the Steele's. He'd call while he was getting changed, he decided, unlocking the door.
He tossed his jacket on the sofa, then grabbed a beer from the fridge as he headed toward the bedroom. He pulled his shirt out of his pants, then froze as he saw someone on the bed.
"Dammit, Conchita," he sighed, frustrated by the woman's inability to take no for an answer. "I thought I told you-," he stopped as he realized she wasn't moving. She was laying there, wearing a very revealing red lace teddy, her dark hair in wild disarray against the white sheets. "Conchita?" he said again, moving cautiously nearer the bed. His foot hit something hard on the floor, and he bent to pick it up. As his fingers closed around the cold metal grip of his gun, he saw the bullet hole in Conchita's chest, the darkening circle of red on the lace that covered her. Dropping the gun, he felt for a pulse. The body was still warm- but Conchita was dead, in his apartment, in his bed, and probably by a bullet from his gun.
His problems had just gotten worse.
To Be Continued . . .