“We were talking about making cupcakes, among other things,” Alex said seductively, as he raised an eyebrow, and then stepped back from the tub and took off his tie and opened his collar.

“Any other plans for this weekend?” he asked casually, he had also remembered the blue kit.

“I think so,” she smiled at him, and he returned the look in her eyes with pleasure. Almost fifty, he was still a strikingly handsome man, and looked ten years younger than he was, as did Alex. They were a good-looking pair, and it was obvious that Annabelle had done nothing to dim the passion between them.

“What are you two doing in the bathtub with all those bubbles?” he asked Annabelle, and she looked at him matter-of-factly.

“We're mermaids, Daddy.”

“Any interest in having a big whale join you?”

“You're coming in too, Daddy?” she giggled, and he took off his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, as the three of them laughed, and a minute later, he had locked the door so Carmen wouldn't come back in, and he was in the tub with his two mermaids. He splashed and they played, and eventually Alex did wash Annabelle's hair. And then she got out of the tub and dried her off and wrapped her in a big pink towel, while Sam took a shower to wash all the soap off. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a big white towel, which he wound around his waist as he surveyed his two ladies with pleasure.

“You two look like twins.” He smiled again at the bright red hair. Alex had complained lately about finding a few gray hairs, but you couldn't see them, and her hair was still as bright as her daughter's.

“What are we going to do for Halloween?” Annabelle asked as her mother dried her hair, and Sam opened the bathroom door and walked into their bedroom to put on jeans and a sweater and a pair of loafers. He loved coming home to them, playing with Annabelle, and spending time with Alex. He didn't even mind if she worked late at night, he just liked being with her, as he had for the last seventeen years. Very little had changed between them, except that he seemed to love her more each year, and Annabelle had only strengthened the bond between them. He was only sorry they hadn't figured out how great kids were a little sooner.

“What do you want to do for Halloween?” Alex asked her, as she fluffed up the bright red curls with gentle fingers.

“I want to be a canary,” Annabelle said firmly.

“A canary? Why a canary?” Alex was smiling at her.

“They're cute. Hilary has one. Or maybe I'll be Tinker Bell … or the Little Mermaid.”

“I'll go to F.A.O. Schwarz on my lunch hour next week and see what I can find. Okay?” And then she remembered the trial. She'd have to do it before Wednesday or wait till the trial was over. Or maybe Liz Hascomb could call them and see what they had in Annabelle's size. Alex always had to be artful about using her time to its best advantage.

“What are we doing for Halloween?” Sam had strolled back into the room in jeans and a dark green sweater.

“I thought we'd go trick-or-treating in the building, like last year,” Alex explained, and he nodded. She was wearing a pink terry-cloth bathrobe with a pink towel on her head, and she put Annabelle's nightie on, and turned her over to Sam, so she could go out to the kitchen and check on dinner.

There was a chicken in the oven, baked potatoes in the microwave, green beans sautéing in a pan, and Carmen was about ready to leave them. She stayed later when they went out, but if they were staying home, she often started dinner for them, and then left. Or Alex and Sam would cook dinner themselves when they both got back from the office.

“Thanks for everything.” Alex smiled at her, and Carmen smiled back. “I'm going to need lots of help next week, Carmen. I'm going to trial on Wednesday.”

“Sure. I help you, I can stay late. No problem.” She knew about their efforts toward having another baby too, and she was disappointed it had not yet happened. She loved babies, and kids. At fifty-seven, she had had six kids and two husbands, and at last count she had seventeen grandchildren. She had a fall life in Queens, but she loved working for the Parkers in Manhattan.

“See you tomorrow,” Alex called out when Carmen left. The table was set, the dinner smelled wonderful. Alex went to put on jeans and a shirt herself. And five minutes later, she called Annabelle and Sam to dinner. They ate at an old rustic table in the kitchen, the place mats were clean and pretty, and the candles were lit. Sometimes they ate in the dining room, but most of the time they ate in the kitchen, and most nights they ate with Annabelle, except when they came home late, or went out to dinner. But they both enjoyed their meals with her. She was good company and they thought their time together was important.

She chatted on busily through the evening, and Sam helped Alex clean up the dishes, while Annabelle played, and then he watched the last of the news, while Alex read Annabelle a bedtime story. She was in bed and asleep by eight o'clock, and the evening was theirs. Alex was about to sit down next to him on the leather couch in the study when she remembered the ovulation detection kit again and went to do it. It showed only that she had not yet had the hormone surge that preceded ovulation, and there was no way to predict when it would happen. Except that she knew that with the hormones she was on, it was likely to be fairly regular and happen, as she had predicted, on Saturday or Sunday, which was still two or three days away. They had been advised to be sure not to have been abstinent for more than five days before ovulation, but not to do it immediately before either, or it would lower Sam's sperm count. It took the spontaneity out of their sex life, but they enjoyed each other anyway, and Sam had been a terrifically good sport about their efforts in pursuit of a baby. He had also been told not to drink excessively right before she ovulated, and never to use a hot tub or a sauna. Heat killed sperm, and he teased her sometimes about wearing ice packs in his shorts, which he knew couples with fertility problems sometimes did. But they didn't have a “problem,” there was nothing wrong with them. Alex was forty-two years old, and it was taking time to get pregnant.

“So, are my services needed tonight?” he asked good-humoredly as she sat down next to him on the couch in the study.

“Not yet,” she said, feeling silly. It was hard not to with all the testing, figuring, discussing, hoping. But it still seemed worth it to both of them, so they hadn't thrown the towel in yet. Far from it. “I still think it'll be this weekend.”

“I can think of worse things to do on a Saturday afternoon,” he said happily as he put an arm around her. Carmen came in for half days on Saturdays so they could sleep in at least once a week, but she was a good sport about staying later too. She was really the ideal person for them, and they loved the fact that she adored their baby, and Annabelle loved her too. They relied on her completely.

Alex told Sam about her trial the following week, and the deposition she'd sat in on that day, without telling him anything confidential. And he told her about an extraordinary new client in Bahrain, and a prospective new partner his two other partners had introduced him to. He was English and had a tremendous reputation in the financial world for making Olympian deals, but Sam had met him several times, and still wasn't crazy about him, and wasn't sure they should let him into the partnership. He thought he was too showy.

“What's his appeal?” Alex asked, she was always intrigued by his business. And he bounced a lot of ideas off her to see what she thought of them. He respected her opinions and her sharp sense about some of the risks that were inherent in his business.

“He's got a hell of a lot of money, and some tremendous international contacts. I don't know … I just think he has a very real potential to become an asshole. He's so damn full of himself. He was married to Lady Something-or-other, she's the daughter of some very high-up British lord, but it's all so much talk and bullshit. I don't know. Larry and Tom think he's a walking gold mine.”

“Does he check out? Have you made inquiries?”

“Sure. And he checks out like a Swiss clock. He made his first fortune in Iran, he was very close to the Shah before he fell, obviously. And he married his second. And I guess he's been making money ever since. Lots of it. He's had some very exotic deals in Bahrain, he still has very strong ties in the Middle East, and he kind of alludes to the fact that he feels he could ‘get closer to the Sultan of Brunei.' Frankly, I don't believe it. But Tom and Larry do. That's about as far up there as you get in the stratosphere, before you just break up and explode with power and money.”

“Maybe you should take him on provisionally. Try working with him for six months, and see what you think about him then.”

“I suggested that to Larry and Tom, but they think it's insulting to someone of his stature. Simon isn't exactly someone you can put on probation, I suppose. But I don't know that I'm ready to make a full commitment to him.”

“Then follow your instincts. They've never served you wrong yet. I'm a great believer in that.”

“I'm a great believer in you,” he said softly as he leaned over to kiss her. He had been crazy about her for so long, and he was always torn between admiring her mind and being totally enamored with her body. It was an unbeatable combination. “What do you say we go to bed early tonight, and do some practicing for the weekend?”

“That has a lot of appeal,” she said, kissing his neck. They both knew they could still afford the luxury of making love now. There were still two or three more days ahead of them until she'd ovulate. Making love the next day would be too close and might diminish their chances of getting pregnant. It was complicated at best, but Alex was determined to overcome that, and their attempt to get pregnant wouldn't last forever. Eventually, she'd either get pregnant, or they'd stop trying and go back to making love anytime they wanted.