 | ||||||||||
 |  | |||||||||
 |  |  |  |  |  |  |  | |||
| ||||||||||
| | |||||||||
| | | | | | | | |||
Laura Holt was smiling as she entered the office complex
where Remington Steele Investigations was located. It was
a bright, sunny day, with the barest hint of the smog for which
LA was so well known. As she approached the elevators, she
noticed one other person waiting as well. Tall, blonde,
pale blue eyes, she easily recognized the eleventh floor's newest
tenant. He smiled at her. "Miss Holt, isn't it?"
he asked with a smile.
"Yes," she said. "Mr. Yates?"
"Trevor. I wasn't certain you would remember
me. We only met once -"
"I've a good memory for names and faces," she
told him.
"Must come in handy in your line of work," he
commented as the doors opened. Three people got off, leaving
Laura and Trevor Yates alone as the elevator began it's climb
upward.
"Yes. It does." She thought again
that he looked as if he would be more at home on a surfboard than
in an office telling other people how to spend their money.
"Miss Holt, I was wondering- "
She turned to look at him as he hesitated. "What
were you wondering, Mr. Yates?"
"If you might be free for dinner this evening?
I know it's very short notice -" Laura started to refuse.
She and Remington had been getting closer these last weeks, but
he still tended to take her for granted far too often. Trevor
noticed her hesitation. "Forgive me. I had heard
that you and Mr. Steele were-"
"We're friends," Laura told him quickly.
"Good friends," she modified. "But there's no reason
why I can't go out with someone else-"
He smiled, and Laura found herself unable to look away.
"I'm glad. I've only just returned to LA after being
gone for a long time. I was hoping you might help me back
into things here-"
"You're from Los Angeles?"
"Born and raised here. Can you be ready at six?
I'd suggest later, but I have an early client tomorrow-"
"Six." It would mean leaving the office
earlier than usual, she mused. But as far as she knew, there
was nothing pressing to keep her there. "I think so."
"Then I'll make the reservations and call you later
to get your address -"
Laura quickly wrote her address on a slip of paper.
The last thing she needed was for him to call the office.
"Here."
The elevator doors had opened, and they had stepped into
the nearly empty hallway. Trevor took the paper and glanced
at it before putting it into his pocket. "I'll see
you later then, Miss Holt."
"Laura," she corrected, waving as he turned toward
Suite 1159, then pushed the doors open to enter Suite 1157.
Neither of them had seen the short man wearing the dark
trench coat standing behind the plant near the stairway door,
watching and listening to their conversation. Once Yates and Laura
were safely in their offices, he came out and pulled out a note
pad, writing Laura's name and the name on the glass doors on it
before getting onto the elevator.
"Good morning, Mildred," Laura said brightly
as the woman came from the main office.
"Miss Holt," Mildred Krebbs said, sounding relieved.
"I was just about to call you."
"It's a lovely morning, isn't it, Mildred?"
"Miss Holt-"
Laura turned toward her office. "Let me know
when Mr. Steele arrives-"
"He's already here," Mildred informed her, causing
Laura to stop and turn back toward the middle aged woman's desk
as the door to Steele's office opened and that man himself came
out, his blue eyes fixing on Laura.
"You're late," he accused.
"Look who's talking. You're usually never here
before ten-"
"Then you've forgotten about the meeting with Mr. Bennett?
The meeting that you scheduled for nine am sharp? And insisted
that I be here for OR ELSE?" He was clearly still angry
about her implied threat of the previous evening.
Laura glanced at her watch. "I didn't realize
I was that late," she said. "But that's no reason
for you to lose your temper," she told him. "At
least it got YOU here on time for a change."
"I had something else that I intended to take care
of this morning, Miss Holt- and I don't appreciate being threatened
if I don't toe the mark. You seem to forget-"
"No, it's YOU who's forgetting who is REALLY in charge
around here," Laura returned.
"Miss Holt! Mr. Steele!" Mildred's
voice broke through. Mr. Bennett is waiting in Mr. Steele's
office-"
"Then let's not keep him waiting any longer, shall
we?" Laura turned and went to the door, leaving Steele
with no choice but to follow.
Laura was in her office, working on a file, when Steele
tapped on the connecting door. "Come in."
He tossed one of her hats onto her desk, causing her to look up.
"What?"
"Just making certain it's safe for me to come in,"
he said, smiling.
Laura returned his smile. What WAS it about this man that
she just couldn't stay mad at him for very long? "It's
safe," she assured him.
He looked like a contrite little boy, she thought, eager
to please. "I wanted to apologize for losing my temper
this morning. You were so insistent that I be here - and
when Mr. Bennett arrived and YOU weren't here yet -"
"Traffic," she told him. "And I was
talking to someone in the elevator."
"I have something for you, " he said.
"Mr. Steele, -"
He held out two tickets. "Front row for the Mickleson
concert," he informed her.
Laura's jaw dropped. "But that's been sold out
for weeks," she said, taking the ticket and looking at them.
"How did you get these?"
He shrugged, obviously pleased by her reaction. "I
called in some markers," he told her. "I'll pick
you up at seven -" Laura's smile faded. "Laura?"
She looked at the date on the tickets. "They're
for tonight."
"This is the last night of the series," he reminded
her. "What's wrong?"
"I can't go." She handed the tickets back
to him.
"You can't- Laura, you were begging all over town for
these bloody tickets - I thought you wanted to go -"
'I do, but- I have another date," she told him, sensing
that he went totally still at her words.
"You- what?" She picked up the file she'd
been working on and took it out to Mildred.
"And just WHO is this date with?" Steele
asked, getting Mildred's attention with the question. "Dinner
with your mother? Or at Frances and Donald's?"
"No," Laura told him.
"I hadn't realized that you were seeing anyone else,"
he said.
"And you should have made certain my calendar was clear
before making arrangements for the evening," she countered.
"Who, Laura?" Steele asked again, and Mildred
recognized the jealousy in that question, was certain that Laura
did as well when she smiled before going to her office to retrieve
her purse and hat.
"The accountant next door," she said. "Trevor
Yates. He's picking me up at six, so I have to leave early
to get ready."
"And what am I supposed to do about these tickets?"
Steele asked.
Laura grinned. "I'm sure you can find someone
to go with you. Take Mildred." She pushed open
the door. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." She
waved as the door closed behind her.
Mildred watched Mr. Steele for a moment. "Chief
-" He turned to look at her. "She has a
point, you know. No woman likes to think she's being taken
for granted."
Steele looked thoughtful. "What do you know about
this Trevor Yates?"
She shrugged. "Not much. He's thirty five
years old, graduated from UCLA with honors. He's been widowed
for ten years, moved back to LA from New York, runs every morning
and works out for an hour every afternoon -"
Steele shook his head as she rattled off the list.
"Not much?" he repeated.
She grinned sheepishly. "Girl talk. A bunch of
the receptionists and secretaries from the floor get together
for lunch sometimes."
"And compare notes?"
Mildred's smile widened. "Sometimes. Until
Yates arrived, you were the main topic of conversation."
"But I'm not now?"
She heard the bruised ego in his tone. "Don't
worry, Chief. It's just that he's the new kid on the block.
Give it a week or so."
"I suppose Laura wouldn't approve of my running a little
check on her date for this evening, would she?"
"Probably not, Mr. Steele," Mildred agreed.
She smiled up at him. "Why don't you go into your office
and look at that report that Miss Holt wanted you to read while
I take care of some things out here?"
"You're a gem, Mildred." He started for
the office, then turned. "I hope you can be ready for
me to pick you up a seven," he told her.
Mildred's fingers paused over her keyboard. "Pick
me up, Mr. Steele?"
"For the concert," he told her.
"You don't have to- "
"Don't tell me YOU have other plans as well -"
"No, but - surely you can find someone else you'd rather
go with-"
"Nonsense, Mildred. Can you be ready?"
She quickly calculated the time it would take her to get
home and dressed - "I think so."
"Then it's settled. Let me know if you find out
anything." He disappeared into his office, and Mildred
saw the light for his personal line light up on the telephone
as she started typing again.
Half an hour later, he came out of the office.
"Anything?"
"Nothing yet. Except that he's been widowed for
ten years, that he moved from Tucson, Arizona after his wife's
death to Miami, then to New York five years ago before coming
here. He left a successful accounting practice behind every
time he moved, too."
Steele considered the information as he came to look over
her shoulder at the computer screen. "How did his wife
die?"
"I haven't found that out, yet," she told him.
"Well, it will wait until tomorrow, then," he
said reluctantly. "It's time to go home and get ready
for your evening out."
"But I can finish this -" she insisted, wanting
to find out about the man that Miss Holt was with as much as he
did.
Steele shook his head, picking up her purse and holding
it out to her. "I'll lock up, Mildred. And I'll
see you at seven."
Mildred looked about to argue, but finally nodded, rising
to take the purse. "See you."
Once she was gone, Steele turned out the lights and locked
the office, then paused in the corridor to walk to the next office.
"Trevor Yates, CPA," was in black lettering on
the door.
The secretary was locking the doors and smiled up at him,
unconsciously lifted a hand to her blonde hair. "I'm
sorry, we're- Oh. You're Mr. Steele, aren't you?"
"Yes. I was just leaving for the day and saw
you- let me escort you downstairs - you can never be too careful,
you know, Miss-"
"Hastings. Becky Hastings," she said, barely
suppressing a giggle as she moved toward the elevator. "Mr.
Yates usually sees me to my car," she told him. "But
he had to leave early today - "
"How long have you worked for Mr. Yates?"
Steele asked as the elevator doors closed.
"Just since he opened the office a few weeks ago.
He's a really nice man -" she said.
"Did you happen to make the reservations for his dinner
this evening? I need to discuss something with him - and
-"
She smiled up at him again, and Steele turned those blue
eyes up to full power. "Uh, yeah, I did. Che
Rive. It's-"
"I know where it is. Thank you." The
elevator doors opened a moment later, and Steele escorted her
to her car before moving toward the limo. Inside, he picked
up the telephone and dialed the number for Che Rive. "Claude?
Steele here. . . .I have a favor to ask -" He smiled.
Laura was putting on her shoes when there was a knock
on the metal door of the loft. "Just a minute,"
she called out. Sliding the door open, she found herself
faced by a spray of roses.
Trevor smiled as he peered around them. "I hope
you like them."
Taking the flowers, she inhaled their fragrance. "Oh,
yes. Thank you. Come in. Let me put these in
water before we leave."
He closed the door and looked around the room. "Interesting
architecture," he commented.
"I know. But living in a converted warehouse
has some advantages."
"Which doesn't include an elevator, I assume?"
Laura smiled as she put the roses into a vase. "You
sound like-"
"Like who?"
"Never mind. I don't have a problem with the
stairs. I consider it a good work out when I can't find
the time to run or anything-"
"You run?"
She nodded, putting the roses on the piano in the corner.
"When I find the time, as I said. I entered a triathalon
awhile back -"
"Did you finish?"
"A case got in the way," she told him.
"You should try again."
"I would, but I barely found time to prepare for the
last one."
"Evidently Mr. Steele keeps you busy."
"I'm not complaining," she told him, picking up
the jacket that went with her dress, only to have Trevor take
it from her hands to help her put it on.
"Allow me."
"Thank you." She let him open the door,
then waited while he closed it, then she locked it.
Downstairs, Laura paused at the sight of the dark blue BMW.
"Impressive," she told him as he got behind the wheel.
"It's just a car," he said, pulling it smoothly
into traffic and accelerating. "How long have you been
a detective?"
"About five years," she told him.
"And you've worked for Steele all that time?"
"No. I trained at the the Havenhurst Agency,
then opened my own office for a few months before -"
"You ran your own detective agency?"
"It wasn't a success," she admitted. "Not
many people wanted to deal with a female investigator, no matter
how sterling my credentials might be."
"Their mistake," he commented. "And
that's when you went to work for Steele."
"It was either that or starve," she said as he
turned into a familiar parking lot.
Trevor must have seen her expression. "You don't
approve of my choice?"
"Oh, of course." She gave him a bright smile and
let the valet help her from the car, then waited for Trevor to
join her. Crossing her fingers, she began to pray that tonight
would be Claude's night off.