"Than a 'Stepford Wife'?" Laura finished. "Isn't that what you called the way I was acting?"

"The Stepford Wives," Remington annotated. "Katherine Ross, Columbia Pictures, 1975."

"I know the picture, Remington," Laura informed him dryly. "I wasn't THAT bad, was I?" she asked with a sheepish expression.

Remington sighed. "Do you want to know who you reminded me of, really?"

"If you say my mother-," Laura began, but Remington shook his head quickly.

"Certainly not the woman that *I* know as your mother," he agreed. "Do you remember how you described your mother that night in Acapulco?"

"In-? I'm not sure I follow you."

Remington fought to recall Laura's words as nearly as possible. "You said that she was- completely, totally consumed by your father. That- nothing moved in your house unless it revolved totally around him."

Laura closed her eyes to finish the words. "When he left her, her life just stopped. NO joy, no sorrow, nothing. Not even anger. It was as if he'd taken every BIT of feeling she had with him."

"Was that the truth? Because the Abigail Holt I met that first time hardly seemed like a broken woman, pining for her man." When Laura didn't answer, Remington stopped walking and pulled her to face him. "Isn't it just possible that you SAW things that way, because that's the way you wanted them to be? Because you thought that's the way HE would want them to be?"

"Maybe," Laura admitted in a soft voice.

"What did Edward say about why he'd left Abigail?" Remington asked.

"That he'd become bored," Laura recalled. "That he-"

"Wanted something more. Yet he started trying to recreate the same situation all over again by controlling Grace."

"And when he failed, he- killed her."

Remington pulled her close to him. "I really do think it was an accident, Laura. I don't think he intended Grace any real harm. When she died, he panicked, and decided to come back to the one person who had never judged him, never put any pressure on him."

"Me," Laura supplied.

He drew back to look at her. "Now, I think I asked a question. Why the Stepford wife instead of Gypsy Rose, eh?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"The wild and crazy Laura was too OUT of control," Laura told him. "I guess I was afraid that if I kept controlling everything and everyone that way he did, I'd end up like him. Alone, bitter…"

"So you simply STOPPED controlling anything," Remington nodded. "Maybe to punish yourself for not being able to help him?" Remington suggested.

"Maybe. Maybe if I'd been more like Frances, or Mother, Daddy would still be alive-"

Remington shook his head. "I feel responsible for that, too, you know."

Laura looked up at him. "You tried to save him. I know that. He just- didn't feel that there was any reason to go on living." She sighed deeply. "None of it makes sense, really. Trying to figure out why I went off the deep end like that-does it really matter anymore?"

"I guess not. As long as your return to sanity doesn't mean that we return to our old relationship." When Laura didn't respond, Remington tilted his head to see her face. "Laura, I'm sorry if you feel that I too advantage of you-"

"You didn't. If anyone was taken advantage of, it was you."

"ME?"

"I forced you into letting me into your bed- left you very little choice, really." She laughed, looking heavenward. "I guess I WAS still trying to control things after all, wasn't I?"

"Old habits die hard," Remington pointed out. "And the end result wasn't too bad, really, was it? I mean, we were both on the same page at last, more or less."

"You mean were we both wanted to be? I guess you're right. The question is," she said, "Where do we go from here?"

"Do we go back to the old, platonic relationship, or-"

"That would be like trying to put the genie back into the lamp, don't think?" she asked.

Remington felt a hint of relief at her words. "So, that still leaves us with the same question. Where to from here?"

Laura smiled and slid her arms around his neck. "Why don't you flag down a cab, Mr. Steele, and I'll show you EXACTLY where we're going?" she asked in a seductive voice just before pressing her lips to his.

Remington returned the kiss, and, with Laura still hanging from his neck, turned to wave at a passing taxi. The large yellow Checker cab pulled over to the curb. "Need a cab?" the driver asked, interrupting yet another kiss.

"Yes," Remington confirmed, opening the door and helping Laura inside.

"Where to?" he asked, turning on the meter.

"Give us the grand tour," Laura told him, pulling Remington closer. "Could you turn on the radio? Something romantic." She grinned as the driver sent her a confused look, then waited for him to comply. When Frank Sinatra's voice filled the cab, she said, "That's fine. And keep your eyes front, please."

The driver turned around with a smile as the couple vanished below his line of sight. "You got it, lady."

***

"I didn't ask why Laura suddenly changed her mind about my staying on, Mildred," Daniel said as the limo neared Mildred's house. "But I have a feeling that it's you that I should thank for that."

"I just reminded her that you're the closest thing Mr. Steele has to family-" She missed Daniel's expression of unease in the darkened limo as she continued, "and I told her that I really think you've changed."

"Do you? And on what do you base that faith, my dear?"

"I know how much you care about the boss. And I know that you wouldn't do anything to really hurt him."

"Thank you. I am- trying to change, Mildred," Daniel said slowly. "But you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks."

"Hey, look at me! Until a few years ago, I was a hard case bureaucrat, hassling people for the IRS. I changed. So can you."

Daniel took her hand in his. "I'm very glad that you and I have had this chance to get to know each other, Mildred. And I'm glad that Harry has someone like you looking out for him. You were right about his needing a bit of mothering from time to time. I'm afraid he had precious little of that when he was younger. I tried to make up for some of what he must have gone through, but, there was only so much I could do. At least he'll have you once I-"

Mildred's fingers curled around his and she squeezed. "We'll have no talk of that, Daniel Chalmers. You heard the boss. Tomorrow, we're gonna see about finding you a place on the beach. And then we're gonna set up an appointment with the best specialist Mr. Steele can find."

Daniel sighed. "I'm really not worth all of this fuss, you know."

"Why don't you let us be the judge of that, Daniel?" Mildred said.

"It's rather difficult to place one's life in the hands of others, Mildred, when one has been taking care of oneself for so long," Daniel commented, then he smiled. "But I think I might be able to adjust."

"You bet you will," Mildred countered, smiling as well. "I hope Mr. Steele and Miss Holt will be okay."

"IF there's one thing I've learned about those two, Mildred, it's that they both tend to land on their feet."

***

Mildred smiled widely when she saw the couple entering the office the next morning. "Good morning, Miss Holt," she said, holding out the morning's message slips to them each. "Your sister wants you to call her," she informed Laura. "And Daniel said he'd be here at ten, Boss. Mr. Davis is due for his meeting at nine- thirty."

Laura glanced through the messages. "I guess I'll call Frances, then," she said.

"It's good to have you back, Miss Holt," Mildred called out as the door closed behind the woman.

Remington watched her go, smiling. "Do you have the number for the realtor, Mildred?"
"I've already called and asked her to locate some properties in Malibu, chief," Mildred informed him. "She's supposed to fax them over so you can decide which ones Daniel might like. And I've got a list of specialists that might be able to help him, too." She held it out. "The first one is tops in the field."

"See if you can set up an appointment for Daniel with him, okay?"

"Sure."

Remington went into his office, looking forward to an uncluttered morning for a change. Now that Laura was back in the swing of things, he could enjoy his morning tea and newspaper without being bothered by the tedium of paperwork.

He'd no more than sat down and picked up his cup and the paper when the connecting door between his office and Laura's opened. She posed in the doorway, smiling. "Hey there."

"Hey there," he returned. "How was Frances?"

"She wants us to come to dinner next week," Laura told him, moving closer to his desk. "Tuesday."

Remington sensed something was going on, and paused, his cup in midair. "Sounds good to me."

"And Mother's coming out for a visit. Think you'll be able to whip up one of your gourmet dinners for her?" Laura asked, carefully taking the cup out of his hand and placing it into the china saucer on the desk.

"Now that I have my kitchen back, yes, I think so," Remington told her as she picked up the newspaper that lay across his legs and tossed it behind him before sliding into his lap. "Laura-"

"What's wrong, Mr. Steele?" she asked. "Frightened by the 'new and improved' Laura Holt?"

"Not at all, Miss Holt. You KNOW how much I relish a challenge," he replied, grinning as she loosened his tie. "But didn't Mildred mention that Mr. Davis was due at nine-thirty?"

Laura grasped his wrist and checked his watch. "We've got fifteen minutes. Haven't you ever heard of a quickie?"

Remington pulled her closer. "Indeed I have, Miss Holt. Indeed I have."

There was a knock on the door, followed immediately by Mildred. "Mr. Steele, I-," she began, then paused, seeing Laura. "Oops. Sorry, you two."

Laura sighed and rose from her perch. "That's all right, Mildred. I have some paperwork to take care of anyway," she decided, and then leaned forward to give Remington a quick kiss. "Later, Mr Steele."

"You can count on it, Miss Holt," he promised, then turned his attention to the still embarrassed Mildred.

"Sorry, Boss. I guess I'm going to have to get used to things being- different around here."

"Hmm," Remington agreed, retrieving his paper and picking up the lukewarm tea. "Waiting for an 'all clear' might be a wise move. Could I get this warmed a bit, Mildred?"

"Sure." She took the cup, then said, "Oh. I forgot the reason I came in. Here's that list of properties in Malibu. I thought you'd be the best one to look them over, since you know more about what Daniel might like in a place."

He took the paper. "Thank you."

"I'll be right back with your tea."

He nodded as she left the room and regretfully put aside the newspaper to peruse the house listings. There were several that might do, he decided. "What's that?" Laura asked, her voice close to his ear.

Remington jumped, startled that she had managed to sneak up on him that way. "Laura. Don't do that. I didn't hear you return."

She smiled, holding up a file. "I have something you need to sign. And I thought we'd go over the Davis file before he got here."

"Ah. These are some houses Daniel might want to look at," he told her, sliding them over so that she could examine them while he took the papers from her hand. "Where do I have to sign this?"

"Usual place," she told him, studying one of the listings. "This one has possibilities," she mused, tapping the page.

"Which one?"

"Three bedrooms, garden, guest cottage…"

"I was going to put that one aside," Remington told her.

"Why? The location's fabulous, and they're asking practically nothing for it-"

"And what would Daniel need with a three bedroom house, garden and guest cottage?" Remington asked. "I admit that the man does tend to do a bit of entertaining from time to time, but-"

"Not for Daniel," Laura corrected him. "For us."

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy