This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.  Copyright Diana Walker 2005.

After that momentous - and near disastrous - exciting weekend things got more or less back onto an even keel. Granted, the keel was lower in the water now, but at least the seas were smooth again. Max and Diana were working their way from acquaintance to friendship and were well along the road. Reagan, Max, and Diana spent several enjoyable dinners; of course, Diana knew the aforementioned exciting weekend was rough but not how rough. Max had assured that her 'coming out party' would be much more female friendly. After Terry and Dino’s unannounced Tuesday evening visit to Reagan and Max, things were returning to normal …at least as close to normal as that lot was ever likely to achieve.

DINO
I stuck my head around the door into Max’s office just as he stuffed the last documents into his briefcase. He was headed to Damascus for his semi-annual press-the-flesh with a client there and would be gone for the coming week. He looked up and motioned me inside. I sat and thought for a moment before saying anything, because I sure as shit didn’t want to blow this. The reality was that I still had some groveling and sniveling to do before I’d completely dug myself out of the hole from that weekend of Reags’ interrogation.

“Max, buddy, got a question for you before you leave.” He was rightly suspicious of my having a question for him; the last time I’d had questions for him, it had not gone well.

“And what might that be?” He sat with his hands tented on the desk in front of him. At least he didn’t look like he was going to lunge across the furniture at me.

“I still have some making up and apologizing to do with your lady. How would you feel about my asking her to have dinner with me one night while you’re in Damascus?” He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. Oh, fuck. This was not going to be as easy as I’d hoped. Not only do I still have Reags to make up to but Max as well. Yeah, I should have guessed that. Theirs was a partnership in every sense of the word …you take on one of them, and you’ve taken on both.

“I believe that would be a fine idea. If Reagan’s schedule permits it, I have no objection.” That was it? No disclaimers? No upset-her-again-and-I’ll-rip-your-fucking-head-off, thus-finishing-what-I-started?

“Okay …any idea what night might be good for her?” He shrugged.

“I have no idea, Dino. She keeps her own schedule.”

I managed not to laugh …like all Brits, he’d pronounced it “shed – u – al.” He may be an Old Roman, but he speaks the Queen’s English. Christ, what with Terry’s Australian accent and Max’s Old Globe, I’m surrounded. I might as well be in the middle of fucking London. I stood and held out my hand to seal the deal. He stood and took it. As I started for the door, he offered one insight.

“Dino? She dislikes Thai food and her favourite scotch is Glenfiddich.” Well. Perhaps we’d made our peace.

Wouldn’t you know it? For all my good intentions, the office was snowed while Max was gone, and Terry and I ran our asses off. I didn’t get a chance to call Reags until two days before Max was due home. I should have picked up the phone the minute Max left the office, but I didn’t. It was late Thursday afternoon before I called. She answered the phone on the third ring.

“Hello?” Jesus …with that note in her voice, she must have been expecting this call to be from Max. She sure as hell gave what I’d classify as “good phone.”

“Right firm, wrong partner.”

“Dino! How are things at the office?”

“We got busy as hell five minutes after Max walked out the door, but I didn’t call about business. I intended to call you earlier in the week to set up a kiss and make up dinner. I wanted it to be just the two of us, so I thought while Max was gone would be a good time. And before you start worrying, I cleared it with the General before he put wheels up. If you think you can stand sitting across the table from me, may I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dino, I would love to have dinner with you, but rather than going out, why don’t you come out here after work tomorrow? Whatever time you get here will be fine. I’ll make dinner, and we can relax …it’s so much easier to grovel when you’re relaxed, don’t you think? Besides, the house is pretty lonely with Max gone. Since I can’t have the best, I might as well have you around.” The laughter was in her voice which relieved much of my worry, and I laughed with her. She had extended the olive branch, but I could feel its whap whap whap on my back. I’ll give her this …she has a sense of humor.

“All right. I’ll see you when I get there.”

*

Traffic was a bitch so the Ferrari Daytona Spyder didn’t have a chance to flex her muscles as I’d hoped. I’d envisioned being able to blow out the carbon on a country stretch of the Interstate so, of course, there was a wreck coming across the lake. We were squeezed down to a single lane, and I never got out of first gear. I am so fucking glad I got this sports car. With Dallas traffic, I’ve never gotten her up to peak performance, and the bitch has been in the shop on a routine basis because I can’t treat her the way she needs to be treated. One of the 12 valves always needs something.

Why the fuck did I buy a convertible in Dallas? There’s only about four months of the year I can even drop the top. The rest of the time the weather’s too fucking hot or freezing my balls off.

Why did I buy my baby? Because she is sweet, lovely and the car I had dreamed about since being a kid in North Carolina.

REAGAN

The bell rang at seven-fifteen, and I checked through the peephole before opening it. The dogs were barking their “Oh, goody, we have someone new to slobber on and leave covered with fur” litany, and I grabbed Bailey’s collar to keep him from bolting out the door when I opened it.

“Dino, come in …don’t fall over the dogs.” He laughed as he stepped inside, and the dogs were all over him. At least he wasn’t in a dress suit, but sporting his Friday casuals …neatly pressed jeans, button-down Oxford cloth shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a sports jacket slung over his shoulder, suspended from two fingers …and a bottle of Glenfiddich in the other hand. His smile was just a bit guarded when he looked from the pups up to me.

“Well, at least they seem to have eaten recently.” I laughed.

“They’re well fed, Dino, you need have no fear.” I released my hold on Bailey who promptly jumped up and planted his paws firmly just above Dino’s waist.

“Bailey! DOWN!” Geeze, they almost never do that with anyone other than Dee. Wonder what Dino bathed with this morning? Fortunately, he laughed as he spoke.

“You know, I’ve been on the road so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around pet dogs instead of the kill him quick variety. It’s a nice change, Reags.”

“Well, yeah, but they still aren’t supposed to jump on people. Come on in and sit.” He held out the bottle of scotch like a peace offering – perhaps it was – and I took it, a smile on my face.

“Either you’re psychic or Max told you Glenfiddich is my favorite. Thanks, Dino. Will you join me?” He laughed.

“Max volunteered the info, and yes, I’ll join you.” I took his coat and hung it in the coat closet, and he followed me to the kitchen. I poured, and he held up his glass.

“Faio Shíocháin.” My God, the man knew enough Gaelic to propose a toast, and I was impressed. I touched his glass with my own and replied in kind.

“Faio Shíocháin.” We both tossed back the contents of our glasses with that stiff-wristed manner borne of long practice and usually seen only among those of Irish descent. I refilled our glasses and turned toward the lounge. “Bring the bottle with you.” He grinned at me and looked for all the world like a mischievous little boy. I put my glass on the end table beside my chair and motioned him to sit while I slipped a CD – Celtic Women - into the player. When I turned, he was sitting with his elbows on his knees, glass rolling between his hands and looked up at me as the music flowed through the room.

“Reags …I owe you an apology.”

“Accepted, and you apologized on the phone …now let it go.”

“I ….” I cut him off.

“Dino, it’s behind us. You did what you thought was necessary to protect the firm and the rest of the men. It’s history. Let’s move on, shall we?’” The look of relief was beautiful. We slammed down the contents of our glasses, sealing the deal …and perhaps getting him on the way to being loose enough to really letting it go. I nodded toward the bottle.

“The bottle stands beside you, Sir.” He laughed and poured again as he spoke.

“You know, I haven’t met Jack yet.” I grinned.

“Nor have I …but I have hope.” He laughed again.

“Don’t think I’ll let Max in on that one!”

“Thank God! A man who can keep his mouth shut …you know, Dino, most men gossip more than women.” He nodded.

“Yeah, we do …and it’s gotten a lot of us killed, too.” On that somber note, we knocked back the contents of our glasses. At the rate we were going, we’d be shit faced by eight but, somehow, I didn’t think either of us cared. I looked at him as he poured again.

“Can you tell me what made the office so hectic this week, or does that breach need-to-know?”

“End-of-fiscal year was most of it. Contracts to be closed out and renewed, tax records to be filed …all that kept me closeted with the accountants. Why did I ever fucking volunteer to be CFO? Oh, yeah, right …I know more about investments than Terry or Max. Terry was up to his ears with background checks on contracts that start September first, and Max was gone, as you well know. God, I’m going to be glad when Labor Day gets here! It’s going to be one hell of a party this time.”

“You guys have a Labor Day party each year?”

“Every swingin' year. We invite current clients and the local insurance reps …kind of a thanks for doing business with us this past year, and please, keep us the front card in your Rolodex for the coming year.”

“What kind of party do you have?”

“Varies; we try to mix it up. One year we had a barbeque – rented out a dude ranch. Another year, we took everyone ice-skating …had to have everyone sign waivers in case of an accident. If you’ve never seen Max on ice skates, ask him to take you sometime. That’s worth the price of admission in and of itself. Trust me when I tell you he ain’t no John Biebe. Don’t have a clue as to what we’re doing this year.”

“Uhhh, Dino? You have no clue as to what you’re doing this year? You have less than a month to pull this together. Don’t you think someone should be thinking about it by now?”

“Not my problem. That’s Terry’s job. I’m sure Mr. Organization has it well in hand.” I frowned slightly.

“Dino, if it was well in hand, I think Max would have at least commented on it. He likes things planned out well in advance. Are you sure Terry’s on top of it? We both know he’s had a lot on his mind lately.” He shrugged.

“Why? Are you volunteering?” Me? I blinked at him.

“Volunteering for what? Sure, Dino, right, though Dee and I have been known to pull together a shindig for upwards of a 100 people on pretty short notice.” We laughed. He took a sip from his glass before speaking.

“So, how was your week? No party planning activities, I take it.” I shook my head.

“Hardly. Max isn’t one for parties …he’ll do them if he must, but parties aren’t on his top five list of things he’d prefer to do.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Bet I can guess what’s number one on his list.” I actually blushed, curse of the Irish. We slammed down the rest of our drinks, and he refilled our glasses. I was beginning to get the first of a buzz.

“Dino, have you eaten today?” I have one hell of a head for whiskey, and if I was starting to feel it, surely he was.

“Nah, I was too busy. But with my metabolism, it won’t be a problem.”

“So, I gather you do have time for lunch on some days. Was it at lunch or dinner on Monday after my …interrogation …that Max beat the crap out of you?” He winced in memory. “I figure it had to be lunch because Max came home early that day with skinned knuckles.” He took a deep breath, the memory clearly still painful. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought it up, but I truly felt that Dino needed to know that I cared about the fact that he had been injured. I love Maximus, but his methods of retribution and my own aren’t always in sync. I had been very upset when I saw what he’d done to Dino, and he was very aware of my condemnation of his behavior.

“The morning Max resigned, he was behind one of the pillars in the parking garage when I came out for lunch. As I put the key into the car door, I felt a hand on my right shoulder, spinning me around. I saw his face, and that was the last thing I saw. He wanted me to see his face, he wanted me to know who was going to beat me to death …at least I thought that was his intention. I remember his fist slamming into my solar plexus, and I was down before I realized I’d been hit. He picked me up and punched me in the jaw …that must have been when I lost consciousness.” He shook his head in memory. “Reags, he was going to kill me …what stopped him, I still don’t know. From some of the bruises, I know he kicked me while I was down. I’m lucky he didn’t break any ribs, but the fact that he didn’t tells me he didn’t intend to. I think he was giving me the beating for every woman I’ve ever screwed over. Maybe I deserved it.”

I was beginning to feel queasy. I swallowed hard before I could speak. Even though I’d already known about it, the renewed mental images of what Max had done had shaken me more than I liked to admit.

“Dino …Max never intended to kill you. If that had been his intention, nothing would – or could – have stopped him. His intention was for the world to see on you the psychological beating he assumed you gave me in his kitchen the day before. He wanted you battered, to be physically marked, and for a long time. He wanted your shame to be visible.” He looked at me.

“So why do I still have bruises on my ass and thighs; no one usually sees those unless …and my nuts are still a lovely shade of yellow-green so there was no reason for the ass and thigh kicks except for the pain.” He shook his head. “Thank God he pulled that kick to the groin.” I had to lighten this up a bit.

“And, Dino? Women throughout North Texas are rejoicing the fact that he did.” We drained our glasses again; he refilled them, and he raised his.

“I’ll drink to that!” He looked at me.

“While I’m still capable of driving, do we need to make a run to the liquor store? Honey, we’re halfway through this bottle, and I haven’t been here an hour.” I shook my head.

“Got a case in the liquor cabinet. No problems.” Of course at the rate I was drinking, dinner might be a problem …thank God for take-out. By now I wasn’t really hungry, and I doubted Dino was either. It’s pretty common knowledge that the more people drink, the less they eat. Dino’s next comment made me wonder if he was reading my mind.

“Not hungry, Honey. I’m full up on carbs.” Well, we had that out of the way, and I can make munchies no matter how drunk I am.

MAXIMUS

I put my key in the lock to the sound of the dogs’ barking. Strangely, Cassandra did not open the door before I did as is her wont. I entered and put my briefcase on the table by the door, dropping my suitcase on the floor and looking around. The light in the lounge was on, and I saw Dino sprawled on one end of the couch, Cassandra on the other with her head propped at an uncomfortable angle on the arm; she would have a stiff neck when she woke. I smiled; “dinner” had apparently gone well. It had apparently been some time since the dogs had been out as they were all standing at the back door waiting for me to open it. I let them out, as having them out of the house would greatly facilitate the logistics of moving two comatose individuals. I removed my coat, dropped it on the end of the couch and moved to pick up Dino. He didn’t wake, a fortunate thing, as seeing my face in such close proximity might have triggered a flashback to that day in the car park.

I pulled him into a sitting position, and he mumbled something incomprehensible as I pulled him up and slung him over my shoulder. He continued his muttering as I carried him down the hall and dropped him on the bed in the guest room before returning for Cassandra. I lifted her gently, carrying her to our room and placed her on my side of the bed before turning down the linens on her side. I undressed her and put her under the covers. She did not awaken and made no sound, simply turning on her side and snuggling into her pillow. I stood for a moment, watching her, before returning to the lounge.

A bottle of scotch was on the coffee table …empty. I carried it to the kitchen and dropped it in the trash bin, noting another empty bottle already there. It must have been quite an evening. I let the dogs in, and Bailey trotted across the lounge and down the hall. I moved to watch and saw him enter the guest room. This might prove to be entertaining, so I followed him. As I reached the door and looked inside, he jumped onto the bed and stretched out full length, his head next to Dino’s on the pillow and closed his eyes. I left them to their slumber. I returned to our bedroom and went about my nightly routine and joined Cassandra in the bed, falling asleep almost immediately. When I awoke the next morning, it was to a painful moan.

“Maximus? Please, just kill me now.” I turned on my side to look at her. She opened one eye and promptly clamped it shut.

“You’re home early?”

“So it would seem.”

“Where’s Dino? Did you kill him?”

“Do I have a reason to do so?” She tried to shake her head and stopped, a grimace of pain overtaking her features.

“No …we were too drunk …he’s not my type, anyway.”

“I put him to bed in the guest room. Bailey is keeping watch over him. I surmise peace has been declared?” She nodded and stopped, again with a moan of pain. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before getting out of bed. “I will get you some aspirin and a glass of juice …do you think you can keep them down?”

“I don’t know. I want to die.” I pulled on a pair of jeans and went to the kitchen, returning with the juice and aspirin which, miraculously, she managed to swallow and keep down. On this occasion, I did not feel she accepted the aspirin simply to accommodate my need to assist her in some fashion. I left her to her misery, closing the door when I left the room, and went to check on my colleague. As I walked down the hall, I heard him mumble.

“Oh, yeahhhhh, Honey.” I stopped at the door and laughed aloud when I saw Bailey licking Dino’s face. He continued his rambling. “Oh, Jesus, have you got a tongue on you!” I looked at Bailey, and he immediately stopped his licking. I snapped my fingers and pointed to the floor. Bailey rose, walked over Dino, stepping in his groin before hopping obediently to the floor.

“FUCK!”

“Dino, if you have designs on one of our dogs, I suggest you try Pandora …at least she is female.” He sat bolt upright in the bed, grabbing his head with both hands and groaned.

“Max? Oh, shit, Max, nothing happened, I swear to God, nothing happened.” I could not help myself; I laughed.

“So I surmise from Reagan’s condition. As there are no dinner dishes in sight, I gather you failed to eat last evening. Or did you dine out and then return here to drink yourselves into insensibility?” He sat on the side of the bed and looked up at me.

“She offered to cook. We started drinking and …fuck if I know what happened after that. Last thing I recall is being on the couch with her beside me. We were laughing our asses off at something but damned if I know what. When did you get home?”

“Shortly after one this morning. You were on one end of the couch and Reagan on the other. I put both of you to bed. She just woke, and I have given her juice and aspirin. Are you capable of getting the same for yourself, or must I play nursemaid to you as well?” He just looked at me.

“I will go make a pot of coffee, and I have cognac to put into it. I believe you might benefit from the so-called ‘hair of the dog.’ Come to the kitchen when you can stand, and it will be waiting for you.” I turned to leave but his voice stopped me; the beseeching quality in it was painful.

“Max?”

“Yes?” He dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to me.

“Could you get my bag from the car? I need a shower.” I nodded.

“There are towels in the guest bath. In the event you do not have a razor, there is one in the bathroom but I suggest you forego its use this morning. If you are to cut your throat, I prefer you not do so in my home.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

*

They managed to stagger into the kitchen for coffee, and we were all sitting in the lounge when the phone rang. The pain was clear on their faces at the shrill sound, and I answered on the second ring in an attempt to mitigate their discomfort.

“Max Espan.”

“Max …Terry. You’re home early. How was the trip? Contract a go for the next year?

“Certe. All is well, and we have three new clients.”

“Max, you have skills far beyond what I suspected when you joined the firm. Congratulations and thanks.”

“It was my pleasure. Now, I suspect you did not call to speak with me as you were not aware I had arrived earlier than anticipated.”

“Actually, I was trying to find Dino. I know he had dinner with Reags last night, but he’s not answering his phone at home or his cell. I need to know if it’s time to call out the Texas Rangers or start a crawl through the gentlemen's clubs.”

“Dino is here …let me give him the phone.”

“He’s there?”

“Yes. He and Reagan are nursing the mother of all hangovers.” I handed the phone to Dino, and he winced as he put the instrument to his ear.

“Yeah, Terry …whatcha want?” Cassandra and I were privy to only his side of the conversation, but there was much data to be gathered from that perspective.

“I’m fine …well, aside from the aforementioned hangover. Nah, he hasn’t laid a glove on me.” A pause as he listened.

“Labor Day party? Oh, yeah, that. You get a location lined up?” From the frown on Dino’s face, I gathered the news was not good. When I left the preceding Monday, I had been under the impression that the details for our annual party would be arranged during my absence. Apparently, that had not transpired.

“Well, yeah, we’re committed by tradition. Hold one …lemme think. I think Reags and I talked about that last night.”

“We didn’t actually talk about that particular subject…but she mentioned something about she and her friend …whatshername …being able to do something like that on a dime and giving us change.” A sudden, stricken look appeared on his face.

“Wait! Terry, no, I didn’t say that! Terry …FUCK!” He handed me the phone as he put the other hand to his head. “Jesus. Why did I have to yell at myself?” He looked at me, then at Cassandra who had fallen asleep on the couch. He leaned over and shook her lightly. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he gave her the news quietly.

“Uh, Reags, Honey? You and whatshername are doing the Labor Day party …here.” My eyebrows shot up, but she only nodded.

“Yeah, sure, fine. ‘S'long as it isn’t today.”

DIANA

Diana's Voice Mail from Max. “Diana, I assume you are riding this morning. Reagan was unable to meet you. She is a bit under the weather. Would you be so kind as to call upon your return?”

I didn't even take a shower before I grabbed the phone. Max answered.

“You're home early. Is she that sick? Why didn't she call me instead of dragging you back from wherever you were? I can be there in about an hour and a half.”

“There is nothing you can do for her. It is merely a hangover.”

“A hangover? A HANGover? If I had known that I would have carted her to The Knoll to ride myself. For a hangover, you have to ride for punishment. What a stupid thing to do! Put her on the phone. I want to yell at her.”

“I cannot as she has retired for the day …perhaps for the remainder of the month.”

“Max, you are a lot nicer than I am. But of course you love her.”

“This morning really was quite humourous. You must have her tell you about it in a few months.”

“Wow, she must have really tied one on if she won't talk about it for months, or will the headache last that long? If you are saying it was funny this morning, I gather she was not stewing about something. Was she drinking by herself?”

“Dino assisted her. But the sleeping wounded were not the reason for my call. Do you have plans for Labor Day?”

“Your house or mine would be the only question.”

“Ah, then it will be here. Reagan has inadvertently volunteered you for an assignment that weekend.”

“While she was drunk, she agreed to our throwing a party for how many?”

“I am not sure. It is for my firm so you will have adequate financial resources and all the physical assistance you require. I thought it best to tell you as soon as possible so other arrangements might be made should you be unavailable.”

“Don't sound so worried, Max. It will be fine. Brisket, potato salad, cole slaw, beans. We can probably do 75 or so without even having to have it catered except for the drinks. Neither of us will have two pots left over big enough to brew that much iced tea. I’ll fire up MS Project to keep us on track. This is one set of plans you won't have to approve. All you need to know is not to worry. I will not accept any out of town assignments until after Labor Day to be on the safe side.”

“Diana, you do not know how relieved I am to hear you say that. You are a dear friend. You are aware that my partners – Terry and Dino – will be there. As I told you earlier, you must feign ignorance as to their identities. I suggest that after the guests have departed, the five of us talk. I believe you know the topic of that conversation.”

“If I am such a dear friend, why are you back to calling me Diana? Were you that worried I would throw a hissy fit? She has gotten me into worse adventures than this before and probably will again. This is nothing, Max. Not to worry …and I can feign ignorance very well, so don’t worry about that either. We can make this happen.” He did answer my question about my name, and the response gave me a bit more insight into this very complex man.

"Diana, as regards your name ...I do not care for diminutives, and do not use them with a woman I respect."


The next three weeks were pretty much a blur. Lists, lists, and more lists; my Project software got a good workout.

Reags was our liaison to TEO; at least those guys stepped up to the plate and took on the alcohol ordering side of the barbecue. After Reags explained who was coming, I knew I had no idea on how to estimate how much alcohol to buy for a bunch of insurance guys. The one actuarial guy I knew drank like a fish, but I assumed he was not the average. He had, on numerous occasions, reminded me that there was no such thing as normal, only “on average” and probabilities. Reags has hammered the same thing at me, only she does it in terms of behavior being on a continuum, with “a very wide latitude of acceptance.” As long as I didn't have to lick invitation envelopes or stamps, I was happy.

Aside from the obvious reason that Terry and Dino would worry if I was around them and Max before the party, Reags and I decided she should be the TEO liaison. I tend to get pretty dictatorial when a project is close to deadline and that would not be a good introduction to Dino and Terry. Max, Reags, and I – most especially me – wanted them to like me from the beginning. Project Manager Diana with a project behind schedule is not the right personality trait for them to meet on day one.

We alternated going to Sam's for supplies. With the size of this thing, we needed the giant sized everything – spices, sauces, produce, good looking disposable serving dishes, glasses, plates, napkins. Thank God, this is a barbecue, and we don't have to go the linen and silver route; between us, we probably could round up enough good silver, but we would have to pull a Martha Stewart and make do with mismatched chic. That would not suit either of us. For the two of us, formal is formal; that means everything matches. For a barbecue, plastic is good enough. Besides, as tender as my brisket rub recipe makes beef, it literally is plastic fork tender.

During a lull in activity, Reags and I took an afternoon to get caught up. We assured each other that there would be no conversation about Labor Day preparations, no list checking.

“Would you like to tell me about how you got us into this mess, Dr. Kavanagh?” Reags knew I was having a good time doing this party and did not consider it a mess at all.

“Why don't you really ask what you want to know? You really want to know about the bender I went on that night and why you weren't invited,” she chided me.

“All right. Tell me about 'One Drunken Evening'” I sang to her. “And why wasn't I invited? It would have been a great time for me to meet Dino.”

“You weren't invited because he owed me an apology dinner.”

I interrupted her. “Does Terry have anything to apologize for?”

“No, not now. He explained why he sounded the way he did when we first spoke. That was as much Max's fault as his.”

“Both partners have at one time or another in this brief relationship have managed to offend you? They are quite lucky I am predisposed to like both of them. My leg isn't strong enough to do all that kicking. Or are you getting thin skinned on me?”

Reags huffed, “I am not getting thin skinned! It was not an easy introduction into a firm specializing in covert operations, and I couldn’t say anything before you figured it out anyway. The less that is known about them across the board, the more effective they can be.”

“Yeah, remember me? Ms. Covert Ops?” as I pointed to myself. “I may have not been a field operative, but I know about that world.”

“Anything that you worked on been declassified yet so you can tell me about it?”

“Nope, and don't expect it this lifetime. What can you tell me about?”

“Nothing's changed for me either.” We could only sit and wonder if we would ever be able to share war stories. If and when that day ever arrived, we should be able to co-author one hell of a book.

Time to change the subject. “Did you hear? CM picked up 350 theatres this week. Think we could talk Max into going again?” I thought we had been lucky to get him to go the first time. It had to be oddly discomfiting, seeing a version of yourself on the screen. I don't know how actors do it. It may be why they do the red carpet, watch the opening and duck out.

“Let's play hooky from party planning,” she suggested. “Neither one of us needs to go to Sam's today. The lists are all made; no, I will not cross-check them again – at least not today. Let's go see Braddock one more time this run.”

An hour later, after greeting the manager who, over the years, had come to know us on sight, Reags and I were happily ensconced watching Cinderella Man, encouraging the still sparse audience to laugh at the jokes, dodge the punches and cry over the diminishing chances of Oscar nominations.

NOTES