But Adrian wasn't thinking of her parents as she took the Fairfax Avenue exit off the Santa Monica Freeway late that night. All she could think of was Steven. She knew how tired he was going to be, but she had bought a bottle of white wine, some cheese, and the makings of a fine omelet for him. And she was smiling as she slid the car into the garage next to his Porsche. He was home and she was only sorry she hadn't been able to pick him up at the airport. She had had to work the late shift as she often did, standing in for the producer of the late news, since she was his number one assistant. It was an interesting job, and she liked it, but there were times when it was also very wearing.

Her key turned easily in the lock, and she could see that all the lights were on as she opened the door, but at first she didn't see him.

“Hello! …anyone home? …” The stereo was on, and his suitcase was in the hall, but she didn't see his briefcase, and then she saw him, in the kitchen, on the phone, his handsome mane of almost jet-black hair full and slightly disheveled, his head bent as he took notes, and she suspected he was talking to his boss. He didn't even seem to see her as he wrote and talked, and she walked over, put her arms around him, and kissed him. He glanced down at her with a smile, and gently kissed her full on the lips, as he continued listening to his boss without missing a beat for a moment. And then he gently pushed her away as he went on talking.

“That's right …that's what I told him. They said they'd get back to us next week, but I think if we play hardball with them we'll get them to come around before that. Right …right …that's exactly what I think …fine …see you in the morning.” And then, suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was holding her tight, and all was right with the world again. She was always happy when she was with him, always sure that she was exactly where she was meant to be. And as she kissed him all she could think of was how much she had missed him.

He kissed her long and hard and when he pulled away from her again, she was breathless. “My, my …it certainly is nice having you home again, Mr. Town-send.”

“Can't say I mind seeing you myself.” He smiled mischievously at her, holding her bottom in his two hands as he continued to hold her close to him. “Where've you been?”

“At work. I tried to get out of doing the eleven o'clock tonight but no one else was free. I stopped and got some food on the way home. Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” He smiled happily, not thinking of what she had brought home in the brown bags. “As a matter of fact, I am.” He flicked off the kitchen light just behind him, and Adrian laughed at him.

“That's not what I meant. I bought some wine, and …” He kissed her hard on the lips again.

“Later, Adrian …later. …” He led her quietly upstairs, his bags forgotten in the downstairs hall, her groceries abandoned on the kitchen floor, and he looked hungrily at her as she began peeling away her clothes and he turned up the stereo and pulled her down on the bed beside him.





THEY BOTH LEFT FOR WORK AT THE SAME TIME THE next day: It was a routine that went like clockwork every morning. Steven went for a run before work, and then he came back and rode his exercise bike while he shaved and watched the news, and Adrian made them a light breakfast. She had showered and dressed by then. And he showered and dressed while she cleaned up the kitchen and made the bed. On weekends she got him to help, but during the week he was too busy and rushed to be able to help her.