Laura came to the top of the stair talking to Agatha. "We shouldn't be more than a few days, Agatha," she said.
The nanny smiled a knowing smile. "Everything will be fine, Mrs. Steele," she assured the woman. "I have the telephone number of the hotel where you and Mr. Steele will be staying, and Daniel and Megan will be fine. Now I suggest that you go and enjoy yourself."
"Laura-" Remington stood there, watching as his wife came downstairs. When she was beside him, he opened the door, letting her go ahead of him, then turned to look up at the nanny. "We'll be in touch, Agatha."
Agatha smiled again. How many times had she seen this scene played out? she wondered. New parents, about to endure their first separation from their child, or in this case, children. As she heard the limo pull away, she turned back toward the nursery where her charges waited for her.
He took her hand in his. "We hired Agatha to take care of the children, remember? I'm certain that they are in capable hands."
"But they're still so little," Laura fretted. "They're only two months old-"
Remington pulled her into his arms. "They'll be fine," he said. "They have more than just Agatha looking after them," he reminded her. "Mildred, Edward, Katherine, Robert- and I have an idea that Frances will put in at least one appearance during our absence. And we'll only be in San Francisco," he told her. "We can be home in no time by airplane."
She sighed. "You're right, I suppose. And we haven't had any real time alone since Daniel and Megan were born, have we?"
"I would have preferred that we not be going to this conference, however," Remington told her. "A nice trip to the Carribean-"
Laura smiled up at him. "But you're the endnote speaker," she reminded him. "You should be honored that they asked you to close the conference."
"Laura, addressing a room full of civic leaders is one thing. Speaking before an entire conference of private detectives is quite another. What if someone decides to unmask me as a fraud?"
"You're not a fraud. You're Remington Steele," she told him. "You DID remember to bring the speech I wrote, didn't you?"
When he had been asked to speak at the conference, Remington had considered refusing. But the idea of spending three days alone with Laura, without the interruption of a case or the children, had been a powerful incentive for him to agree. And Laura had offered to write him a speech that she guaranteed would bring down the house. "I brought it," he assured her. "I just hope that we're not making a mistake."
Laura snuggled closer. "How can three days alone together possibly be a mistake?" she asked.
He smiled, lowering his head to hers. "THAT, Mrs. Steele, is the silver lining to the dark cloud hanging over my head.
He had hired a Learjet to fly them to San Francisco, and Laura spent most of the brief flight in her husband's arms, enjoying the knowledge that no one could interrupt them here. Not Agatha, or Mrs. Hobbs, or Tony, or even Mildred. They were all alone, except for the pilot and co-pilot - and the telephone that suddenly began to ring insistantly. "Damn," Remington swore. Pulling away from Laura, he picked up the receiver. "Steele here." He frowned. "Mildred?" Laura grinned, then went to the bar and poured them each another drink. "What-? I see. I'm sure you and Antony can handle Mr. Leroy without -" He took the drink that Laura gave him. "Very well, put him on." He shook his head at Laura as her smiled widened. "Mr. Leroy. Remington Steele-Yes. I was aware that you - I can assure you that Miss Krebbs and Mr. Roselli are very capable of handling your case with the utmost discretion, Mr. Leroy. Yes. Yes, they'll be keeping me informed of every step in resolving this sensitive matter." He smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Leroy. Good bye." He hung up and took another drink of the wine. "Now I suppose Mildred will be calling all weekend with updates on the case."
Laura sat in his lap. "I think we can work around her, don't you?" she told him, kissing him as the "Fasten Seatbelts" light came on.
"We're landing, Laura," Remington told her, returning her kiss before lifting her from him and to her seat. "Put on your seatbelt."
"Murphy?" She gave him a hug. "It's been ages. And you haven't written or called-" she admonished gently.
"I've been busy. You know how much time running an agency can take up." He looked her over. "You're looking wonderful as always. Where's -"
"Remington's registering - You're still living in Denver?"
Remington finished checking in and retrieved the room key, turning to discover that Laura had wandered away. "Take the cases up," he told the bell hop, giving the man a few dollars, surveying the lobby. He caught sight of her easily, and saw that she was sitting down, talking to someone whose back was to him. Sighing, Remington started toward them, wondering who she had found that she knew. Probably an old acquantance from her Havenhurst days, he thought. Just what he needed. Laura hooking up with -
"I can't believe that you agreed to let him deliver ANY speech here, Laura. With all of these detectives - if he makes one slip up-"
"I'll just have to make sure I don't, Murphy," Remington said, coming around to face the other man, his hand out in greeting.
Murphy sat there for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he slowly rose to take the offered hand. "Steele."
"How are things going in Denver?" Remington asked, sitting beside his wife, taking her hand in his, feeling the need to remind Murphy that Laura was no longer available.
"Pretty good. I've been able to hire two operatives for my agency in the last year." He looked past them. "If you'll excuse me, I see someone else I need to talk to. Later, Laura?"
"Of course, Murphy," Laura said, frowning. "He's upset about something."
"Probably seeing you again. He was always quite- fond of you."
Laura smiled up at him. "Murphy and I were never more than friends, Remington."
"Not for want of Murphy's trying," Remington told her. "Why don't we go up to our room before having lunch?"
"We have to check in to the conference," she reminded him.
"Later," Remington said, rising to his feet and pulling her with him. "Right now, I want to spend a few minutes alone with you-"
"Mr. Steele?" A voice asked nearby, and Remington sighed deeply before he turned to greet the man who had hailed him.
"Yes?" The man's name tag for the conference revealed him to be Hank Jordan of New York.
Jordan shook Remington's hand, smiling. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Steele. And I want to tell you how happy I was to hear that you agreed to end our conference with a speech." He glanced at Remington's lapel. "Where's your name tag? Of course, someone as famous as you are really doesn't need one, I suppose. But you still have to register-" He turned toward the conference room door where a table was set up to allow the private detectives attending the conference to sign in. "Over here-"
Remington brought Laura along with him - shrugging at her amused expression. The young woman sitting at the table smiled widely as she saw him approach. "Mr. Steele." She handed him a name tag. "If you'll just sign here," she said, her eyes falling on Laura's hand as it held onto Remington's arm. "And you are-?"
Remington felt Laura's tension immediately. "Laura HOLT Steele," Laura told the woman. It wasn't often that she felt the need to use her full name, he thought. Only when she wanted to reinforce her own identity to make a point.
"Oh. Mrs. Steele." She filled out another name tag, writing "Mrs. Remington Steele" on the white card. "Here you are-"
Laura shook her head. "Laura Holt Steele," she repeated, tearing the nametag into two peices and dropping it before the woman. "I have a private investigator's license," she informed the woman.
"Of course, Mrs. - Steele," she said, quickly making a new name tag for Laura.
Laura took this one, then signed her name below Remington's. She put on the name tag, then realized that Remington had moved away, into the conference room where he was surrounded by several other detectives.
As she stood watching him, Murphy came up behind her. "Hasn't changed much, has he? Still likes the spotlight."
"No, Murphy. He's not the same man at all."
"Looks like it from here. Why don't you and I go and have a drink over at the bar while he's busy? Catch up on old times."
Laura looked to where her husband was standing. "All right, Murphy."