Part Five
The next day the Daily Planet newsroom was the center of “The Big Chill” for Lois and Clark.
They arrived separately. A greatly subdued Clark exited the elevator first, wearing a plain steel gray tie, sadly it matched his mood. He walked stiffly down the ramp, spotted Lois’ empty desk, then turned and carelessly sat down at his own. Firing up the computer, he began to work on his latest story.
Ten minutes later, an oddly restrained Lois walked down the ramp, almost the manner of a woman who did not want attention drawn to herself. After quietly hanging up her pumpkin colored jacket on the coat hook by her desk, she sat down, started her computer, and settled down to work. She sent off a number of e-mails, the longest one, to Jimmy, detailing her research requirements.
Slowly, very slowly, the morning dragged painfully on.
***
Jack was the first one to notice it. Lois and Clark were hard at work on their respective stories. So hard at work, they barely spoke or looked at each other. When one did glance in the other’s direction, it was quick and furtive. In the past, Jack’s ability to read people had spared him much physical harm and emotional pain. What he was reading now between the two investigative reporters was sadness, disappointment and not a little hurt.
He went over to Clark first - the older man was something of a father figure/big brother, so it was easier to talk with him.
“Hey Clark, want some coffee?”
“Huh?” Clark glanced over his glasses at the boy; cast his eyes guardedly over to Lois, than back to him. “Oh, not right now. Thanks, Jack.”
Turning to Lois, Jack queried, “Lois? How ‘bout a low fat mocha? Since Jimmy’s busy, I’m doing the mid-morning coffee run to the Java Perk for the chief.”
He got the exact same reaction. Lois looked at Clark rather sheepishly before answering. “Sorry, Jack, have to get this story done.”Lois muttered in an undertone, she opened her mouth to say more, thought better of it and continued looking - more like idly gazing - at her monitor.
Jack looked closely from one reporter to another. He was smart enough to know hanging around was *not* the thing to do. With a nod to them both, he trotted up the ramp.
***
For the remainder of the morning, different staffers walked by the two reporters and sensed a definite chill in the air. There was no easy banter, note passing or exchange of information. Clark kept his eyes on the monitor of his computer. Studiously avoiding looking toward his partner, meanwhile Lois refrained from chewing on a fresh No. 2 pencil… a sure sign of frustration. Cat watched the tableau play out with a strange mixture of curiosity and annoyance. Even Ralph got the message and stayed far away.
Lois and Clark existed on an island surrounded by desks.
***
Close to noon, Weekend Section reporter Diane Pallister convinced Lois to join her for lunch at a new Italian restaurant whose specialty was hot grilled vegetable sandwiches. Lois, eager to get away, agreed and the two young women strolled up the ramp and grabbed the elevator.
With a bleak sigh of relief, Clark slumped forward; his body actually ‘hurt’ from the prolonged tense fallout of last night’s argument with his beautiful partner. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the senior editor emerge from his office. With a softer version of his normally booming southern drawl, Perry White beckoned the investigative reporter.
Clark followed the older man as he walked back to his office. Dreading what Perry would ask, Clark decided to only stuck his head into Perry’s office and ask. “You wanted to see me, Chief?”
“Uh huh,” The Senior Editor said with a nod. “No Elvis stories this time, son. Come on in. Close the door. Have a seat.” He gestured towards the big leather chair. “What’s going on between you and Lois? Had a fight?”
Clark slumped in the chair. The chief had him… them… dead to rights. He did not want to explain about his complex relationship with Lois, especially since he was still trying to define it himself. But what alternative did he have? This was the man who ‘knew what he was not supposed to know’ about the computer genius Eugene Leland hiding out in Lois’ apartment. Clark remembered the entire adventure and the part played by the inquisitive female, Detective Reed, she of the bad hair, make-up and attitude. If it had not been for Perry’s interference, the woman would have dumped both of them in jail for harboring a fugitive.
Sighing gently and nervously running his fingers through thick black hair, Clark began, “We have hit a rough spot regarding the Shackleton investigation.”
The older man looked at Clark for a moment before replying. “Rough spot? From the looks of things in the newsroom, this morning you two just emerged from an avalanche! Well now, son, I’ve known Lois a long time and she gets… well ‘passionate’ about a story.”
“More like obsessive.” Clark mumbled.
“I’ll let that one go,” the editor responded tersely. “Lois has had to work *twice* as hard as either of us to prove her worth in this business. Bet that intuition thing of hers is in full gear and she’s bound and determined to see this thing through until the well dries.”
“Chief, it’s not her passion I object to; it’s her methods… sometimes.” He decided it was best not to mention Lois’ intentions of breaking into LexSolar. He didn’t want to add ‘snitch’ to their argument.
The senior editor fixed a hard stare at the young reporter, but spoke in the quiet paternal manner of tempered experience. “Clark, you two are investigative journalist - partners. Trust Lois’ instincts to land a great story, but don’t let her do anything dangerous… or illegal.”
This time sighing inwardly, Clark answered, “Right, Chief”.
Walking back to his desk, he reflected, thankfully there were only five more ‘official’ hours to the workday. At that moment, Jimmy raced breathlessly up to him with a camera bag slung over his shoulder. Apparently, a huge fire had started in Metropolis Harbor. Clark thanked the stars above for an excuse to get out of the office.
“Jimmy, I’ll tell the chief where we are going. You catch a cab to the harbor. I’ll meet you there.”
“Hey, CK, where’s Lois?” The cub reporter asked.
“Still eating lunch with Diane,” Clark said, trying hard, but failing to hide his bitterness. “We don’t need to bring her in on this one. Please, Jimmy, head downstairs for that cab.”
Taken aback by his friend’s gruffness, Jimmy responded. “I just thought she might want to come with us. This is going to make great front page headlines!”
Clark realized he had made a mistake, but was still too agitated to apologize. He returned to Perry’s office and informed him of their plans. Grateful to see Jimmy gone, he rushed up the staircase to the roof and changed into Superman.
The fire at Metropolis Harbor was indeed a large one; the voracious flames quickly consumed many of the old abandoned wooden piers. Thick, black, greasy smelling smoke plumes rose towering malevolently above the harbor. As Clark flew over the area, his mind was still thinking about how much better it was to cover a story like this with his partner.
His mind snapped back to reality upon seeing a squad of fire fighters entering a smoldering ancient warehouse. The Man of Steel’s unique abilities were desperately needed; not a mild-mannered reporter concerned over his relationship with a woman he wanted to be so much more than a job partner.
Two hours later, the worst of the conflagration was over. Superman spent time talking with police, fire officials and insurance investigators. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jimmy snapping away furiously. Once ascertaining the local fire department and police had the situation under control, he excused himself, flew into the early afternoon sky, quickly disappearing from sight.
Moments later, Clark walked over to Jimmy and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. “Got enough shots to make the front page sing, Jim?”
“Hey, CK!” The cub reporter looked up in surprise. “When did you get here? I didn’t see you this entire time and thought traffic held you up.”
“No. I’ve been here for awhile talking with some officials and starting to write the story up here.” He tapped his forehead. “Let me call the article in and we can catch a cab back to the Planet.”
Ten minutes later the two men were sitting in a cab heading uptown. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, but Clark knew there was something on the photographer’s mind. He listened carefully when Jimmy cleared his throat and began to speak. “Uh, CK? What’s going on between you and Lois? Not that I want to pry or anything.”
Sighing gently, Clark thought to himself. <I seem to be doing a lot of explaining about my ‘distance’ from Lois.> He turned and spoke to Jimmy his voice calm and even. “We are having a difference in opinion. It’ll be Okay.”
Jimmy fingered his camera case nervously for a moment and said, “CK, Lois is kind of like my older sister; she gets on my nerves, but she’s really just looking out for my best interests, you know? Her instincts, not just as a reporter, are pretty good.”
Clark nodded in silent agreement, lost in his thoughts. The cab drove through the hectic Metropolis streets for several minutes until it pulled up in front of the Daily Planet building. Finally he spoke. “The chief will be ecstatic over these great pictures and a story. This will make his day.”
Jimmy agreed, and the two men got out of the taxi and entered the Daily Planet building. Upstairs in the newsroom, Clark heard a familiar heartbeat pounding in anticipation, he knew what to expect, but hated getting into an argument with her in front of the bullpen staff.
All too soon, the elevators doors slide open, he and Jimmy stepped out, than he saw an irritated Lois. She walked up the ramp meeting them halfway. “I can’t believe *neither* of you tried to contact me! Diane and I were only a block away! Kent, is this your idea of a joke?”
Out the corner of his eye, Clark watched Jimmy ease back up the ramp and move swiftly towards the darkroom. He did not blame the cub reporter for beating a hasty retreat. Lois was in full ‘Mad Dog’ mode.
Holding up his hands in genuine surrender, Clark apologized profusely to his partner then continued down the ramp. He was keenly aware the curious eyes of the entire newsroom staff were riveted upon them. The incongruous thought that Lois was beautiful when angry popped into his mind. Indeed, she *was* striking. She wore an electric blue silk pantsuit; the long white paisley scarf wrapped around her lovely throat was an excellent final touch. If he didn’t put an end to this ‘conversation’ soon, it would just slide into a rematch of last night’s dispute.
Lois, not to be outdone followed him to his desk and was about to start in again when he faced her and said in a tired voice, “Lois, I’ve had a long day, covering that fire took a lot out of me. I’m going to finish writing up the notes Elsie from rewrite left on my desk then I’m going home.”
He watched her brown eyes first smolder then cool into icy indifference. “Fine!” Lois growled. She stalked over to her desk, sat down, opened her candy jar and grabbed a handful of M&M’s. Seeing that gesture, Clark knew it was *not* fine and the argument between them was far from settled.
***
Lois snuck a look over her monitor at Clark, as she crunched the candy. Angry thoughts came to mind. <He deliberately didn’t paged me! I missed writing the Metropolis harbor fire story. Since when did him and Jimmy go on stories without her?>
The story she was working on this morning, although not as good, was about another possible scandal in the mayor’s office handling of campaign funds. If she finished researching a few points, it might make Perry’s deadline for the evening edition.
Could it be that only two nights before she had wistfully thought he was the perfect working partner? <If I got together with him, it would have been *another* federal disaster. I’m better off living my life alone.> Sighing softly she dove into her work. The Daily Planet’s newsroom noise and activity seemed to blanket the tension existing between the two reporters, covering over unspoken words between them.
***
Later that evening, an emotionally drained Clark flew to Smallville. It was here at his parents’ farm he could seek solace, a listening ear and comfort for his heart. The elder Kents had just started dinner when their son arrived. Clark inhaled the delicious aroma of pot roast, string beans and rosemary new potatoes and felt his waning appetite return with a vengeance. His mother’s cooking was just what he needed.
Wearing a comfortable old plaid flannel shirt and faded jeans, Clark entered the aged farmhouse and greeted his parents warmly.
After finishing a delightful meal, Clark began explaining to his parents about the past few days, culminating with the argument in Lois’ apartment.
“Lois is so stubborn! Breaking and entering into a corporate facility is not going to solve this ship hijacking case. She’s convinced a highly placed administrative assistant within LexCorp is hiding something.”
Martha stood over her son and husband, filling their coffee cups. “Oh honey, I don’t think Lois would do anything foolish. Does she have any proof?”
“That’s just it, she doesn’t. To make matters worse we aren’t speaking to each other and everyone in the newsroom is picking up on it.” Clark sighed dejectedly as he leaned back into his chair.
Jonathan shook his head and spoke in his usual gentle, yet firm tone. “Son, it sounds to me like you two need to stop fighting and start talking.”
Martha interjected, “It’s what two people do when their lives get closer. Communication, not fighting, is the key word here.” Clark watched while Martha sliced a generous wedge of apple cake and placed it before him.
“Closer? Like as in a couple? Mom, right now we can’t stand to be in the same room with each other.”
Martha Kent’s blue eyes were sparkling. “But eventually, when this problem is worked through, isn’t that what you want with Lois? To become a couple?”
Bowing his head, he muttered, “Yes. However, all I want is for her to be safe. Breaking the law won’t keep her out of harm’s way.”
“Then tell her how you feel, son,” Jonathan said. “But remember, it’s her life; ultimately she has to make the decision to listen when suggestions are offered. In the meantime, if you both want to continue a proper ‘working’ relationship at the Daily Planet some apologizing has to happen. Soon.”
***
Back at the Planet, Lois sat at her desk eating the leftovers of her Asian salad, the day shift having long since abandoned the newsroom. In the background, members of the night shift were heard typing away on their various keyboards. She picked at the vegetable remnants, thinking of the strong masculine hands that made it. Why did they always end up disagreeing with each other? Last night’s argument came from out of nowhere.
No, that was not exactly true. This lingering head cold was wearing her down and Clark was never very happy about her ‘acquiring’ the Shackleton’s manifest from the Harbor Master’s office. After all, she was supposed to be going to the bathroom, not stealing an official shipping document. It was a stupid, impulsive move to make. Probably informing him of her intention to break into LexSolar and ‘acquire’ again just brought it all to a head. *Not smart*.
Trust her to be partnered with the world’s oldest Boy Scout.
“Working late again, Lois?”
Looking up from the salad, she watched as Cat Grant slinked down the ramp as only she could. The tall gossip columnist was dressed in a red silken sheath of sinuous fabric that fell gracefully off her shoulders exposing an athletic figure.
Rolling her eyes, Lois answered in an annoyed tone, “I’m a *working* reporter. One who deals in real news… not dirt digging. Maybe you ought to try it sometime. Whose society get-together are you crashing now?”
Lois’ watched as the gossip columnist gave a derisive snort and came over to her desk. Cat’s green eyes flashed; ready to make a snide comment, she stopped, reflected for a moment, than spoke. “Not that it makes a difference, but I have an important date with my boyfriend, Dr. George Amundsen.”
“Oh yeah, the ‘wild man’ scientist. We bumped into each other yesterday at LexCorp. He seemed in a hurry for an appointment with Aykira Hallick. I’ll say this much, you were right; she is a highly capable administrator. Hopefully, George is up to the challenge of dealing with her.”
Cat arched an expertly tweezed eyebrow and retorted. “Don’t be fooled by his fluster; when it’s important enough, he can stand toe to toe with the best of them, even Lex’s minions.”
Lois sat back in her chair and gave the other woman a good hard appraisal. The flashy gossip columnist had lost her heart to this man. If she wasn’t so sincere it would be downright amusing. In an odd way, Lois was genuinely happy for her.
“So someone finally managed to tame the Catwoman. I’m impressed. What’s next, planning on settling down and having a bunch of kittens?”
“Okay Lois, the regular crew has gone home for the day; we can quit sparring.”
“Oh please, what are you talking about?”
“There are some things more important than work, like having a life *outside* of the job.” Catherine Grant paused for a moment, as if trying to make up her mind about something. Decision made, she walked over to her desk, pulled a chair over to Lois, and gracefully settled down. “Worse things; such as being the punch line to jokes about women, who work too hard and risk the danger of becoming an old maid. Someone like yourself *Miss* Lane.” Cat stated, pointing a perfectly manicured red fingernail.
“Or fashion plates like me, who after ‘socializing all day,’ have nothing but an empty apartment waiting for them at night. Lois, the world is full of available males but precious few *men*. I found one who truly cares for and respects me; not the façade of the *sexy* columnist, but me.”
Fairly bristling upon hearing the words ‘old maid’ Lois was about to reply when Cat held up her hands and continued. “Years ago I met a guy I was stupid enough to fall in love with and marry. He turned out to be a world class jerk. Fortunately, the marriage and divorce was in Nevada… easy in and easy out. I won’t bore you with the details of picking up my life and building the new me, but let’s just say from then on men were fixtures I changed as often my sheets.”
Lois muttered to herself, “Why does that not surprise me?”
Ignoring the sarcastic comment, Cat went on. “So for years, involvement in meaningless relationships and writing ‘fluff’ pieces suited me just fine. Then along came the Nightfall asteroid and life was never the same.” The other woman’s features became haunted and drawn. Everyone I called had someone to share that terrible day with… no one wanted me around. See, meaningless relationships are just that… meaningless.” A respectful silence passed between them, than Cat continued.
“Thankfully, I met George; he has reacquainted me with the better part of myself. Who knows what else we can discover… together?”
“What are you telling me this for? Lois demanded. What’s the angle?”
Hands lifted in dramatic heavenward gestures, Cat groaned. “The angle is you are *wasting* time! Sure, right now you have an Adonis in a cape! Terrific! Still, what kind of a *life* can you have together? He’s great at stopping bullets, but how about taking out the garbage?” Lois watched her shrug her elegant bare shoulders and then pointed to Clark’s desk. “He’s a real man… tight end and all. Do not treat him like he’s Claude. He does not deserve that. Whatever has come between you two, I’m betting it is your fault. Lois, you cannot *always* be right. We are both highly competitive women in a man’s world, but when it comes to what honestly happens between a man and woman… well, that’s different. If you ever want to talk, I’m here to listen.”
Lois watched in stunned, embarrassed silence as Cat got up, replaced the chair under her desk, removed a long black and red silk wrap from her bottom desk drawer and then walked back over to Lois and concluded, “Remember those old maid jokes.”
With a smile touched by a hint of sadness, Cat exited the newsroom.
***
“This has been a *great* day,” Lois growled to herself after entering the apartment on Carter Avenue later that evening. “First, Clark and I are not speaking to each other, then he and Jimmy cut me out of the Metropolis Harbor fire story, finally Cat tries to give me advice about taking Clark seriously. Clark. Clark. Clark! Urgh! All I need now is a call from my mother and the day will be complete!”
As if on cue, the phone rang, interrupting Lois mid-babble. Rolling her eyes in frustration, she picked up the phone, expecting to hear Ellen Lane’s voice. But was greatly surprised when she heard, “Hey, big sis; how’s life in Metropolis?!”
Despite her earlier mood, she could not help but smile at the sound of Lucy’s upbeat voice. It was Thursday night and she usually called her sister once a week to catch up. Following the Metallo disaster, Lucy Lane had undertaken a deep self-examination of her life and realized she needed to get serious about the future. Shortly thereafter she moved to Denver, was going to school for sports medicine; specializing in traumatic athletic injuries. The younger Lane girl had finally found her niche, which pleased the elder Lanes no end. Sam had finally gotten one of his girls into the medical profession and Lois, although not a medical thriller novelist like Ellen was still a wordsmith of some ‘small’ repute.
Now, Lucy was settling into her old role of encouraging her workaholic sister to slow down and ‘get a life.’
“Oh, you know; same old, same old. The Daily Planet keeps me busy; lots of investigative stories waiting to be written.”
“Lo-is, that’s not what I mean and you know it. How about going on a date? Seen any good movies lately? Spent time with people who don’t have ink under their fingernails? There is more to life than watching recordings of The Ivory Tower.”
“Hey, I like my show; it’s a fun release!”
Giggling, Lucy countered with, “Ooh, I’m going to let *that* one go! But seriously, you need a hobby. Uncle Mike’s offer to teach you how to cook is still on the table.”
“No way. It’s not a lack of time, but talent. I wasn’t meant to be in the kitchen.”
“Come on, Lois, it’s been nearly twenty years since the kitchen curtains caught on fire! Give it a rest and try something different. You are the only woman I know who is on a first name basis with every take-out joint in a three block radius of her apartment! Besides, Uncle Mike could use the company. Stop by the restaurant any time; he would love to see you.”
“I smell a set-up here. But you’re right; I don’t spend nearly enough time with him.” Her sister turned the tables. “Have *you* met anyone?
“Hmm - I’ve dated a couple of cute guys and had a few laughs. Speaking of cute; how is Jimmy? What about that hunky partner of yours… Clark?”
<That name, that name!> Lois mentally shouted.
<Today, I cannot get away from him!>
“Oh Lucy, can we talk about something… someone else?”
For a moment, there was silence on the other end of the line. Lois sat down on the plush striped chair and removed her scarf and shoes while waiting for her sister’s response.
“I knew it! So there *is* something going on! Don’t try to deny it! Evasiveness with me is *never* a good tactic!”
Trapped, Lois decided she needed someone to talk to and since her friend, Molly Flynn was plugging her latest book on back-to-basics nutrition, Lucy was her only option. “Fine. Let me change out of this outfit and I’ll tell
you about last night and today… a very long day.”
***
At La Cira, one of Metropolis’ most trendy upscale Italian restaurants, George waited impatiently for Catherine. She was seldom late, but tonight he was anxiously waiting to talk with her. After his conversation with Ms. Hallick he wanted to share the good/bad news. Plus something a little extra.
Adjusting his tie and looking out the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling front wood-framed windows for the umpteenth time, he contemplated seriously about the job offer. It was the culmination of many years work; to become team lead physicist designing solar panels for Space Station Lex was beyond exciting. However, of late, his ambitions had changed; he wanted to return home to Seattle. To be closer to family, old friends and finally complete writing his book on the history of physics in the 20th century. He also wanted to share his home with Catherine.
Catherine. Who would have thought an egghead like him would ever find someone like her? Oh, initially, he had figured she was some empty-headed gossip columnist covering a charity event. But he had discovered she was smart - really smart and creative. The woman had denied her considerable talents as a sculptress and art historian. During many a summer afternoon last year while they hiked, Catherine told him about various artisans from the Renaissance period. She showed him some of her hand-chiseled pieces. He talked to her about physics and she grasped his theories. They shared so much in common, like a perfect mathematical equation, an elegant proof.
Now he wanted to make that ‘proof’ for his own.
George looked up and saw Catherine enter the restaurant; she looked ravishing garbed in his favorite red dress. As she moved easily past the snowy white-linen covered tables, a host of male patrons gazed at her in unabashed admiration. He smiled to himself thinking, <Look all you want gents, but the lady is mine - or at least I hope she will be.>
***
Cat smiled as she kissed him on the cheek. Just being with him made her feel special and cherished. “Hello, Handsome.” She purred.
“Hello yourself, Red.” George couldn’t help but grin; it was his private nickname for the striking auburn-haired beauty. “What a sight to see after a long day.” He indicated the chair. “Make yourself comfortable; I ordered your usual Di Frutti Di Mare - of course, I’m having Penne Al Tricolore.”
A Frank Sinatra recording crooned gently in the background, as they waited for their meals to arrive she listened intently while George outlined his conversation with Aykira Hallick. The new position of team lead scientist came with an incredible raise, his own office and most of all he would be involved in LexSolar’s most exciting new project. He also spoke bitterly about his adversary, Dr. Frederick Scott, who was determined to make his current work miserable through meddlesome interoffice politics.
“Dr. Scott is interested in your old position; that much is certain. Have you mentioned this offer to him or anyone at LexSolar? But more importantly; are you willing to work with him until this project is completed?”
His face turned quiet. “That’s just the point; the project will take around three years from initial planning to the Space Station’s launch; far too long for him to be a pebble in my shoe. Although the offer acknowledges my years of loyal contributions to LexSolar, my mind is almost made up to leave the company and Metropolis for home in Seattle.”
Momentarily; an expectant silence passed between them. Before either could speak, the waiter arrived and swiftly placed their dinner plates before them. He laid out a separate saucer for Cat’s light vinaigrette salad dressing, than vanished without a word. George was speaking, but Cat missed a few words.
“…it wouldn’t be home without you to share my life with, Catherine. Er... is it too much to hope?”
“Excuse me?” she asked
***
George examined Catherine’s expression; before the waiter arrived, it was a blank, sad visage as if reflecting on loss. Then suddenly it turned into a landscape of confusion.
“I said, will you give up your life here in New Troy and join me in Seattle?”
Her entire body sagged in disappointment, “Uh, no. I’m not *living or co-habituating* with anyone.”
***
“Live with?” George felt a little hurt, then realizing how his words sounded responded, by taking her hands and staring deep within her sea green eyes. “Catherine! Th… there are a number of new ideas I accept wholeheartedly, but when it comes to spending the rest of my life with you, I am old–fashioned. We are *not* living together.” So saying, he reached into his beast pocket and tried to pull out a grey velvet box. His hands trembled so badly, the box got stuck. He looked down at it and with one mighty tug the box went sailing over the votive candleholder and landed squarely into Catherine’s chilled asparagus salad.
Nearby, restaurant patrons and staff heard the noise and turned around, looking. The couple at the next table curiously craned their necks, saw the box, and smiled encouragement. George, his face scarlet, took the box gingerly from Catherine’s salad, and opened it to reveal a one- carat pear-shaped diamond ring with emerald baguettes. Pushing back his chair he stepped to her side of the table and in fluid movement bent on one knee, his voice quavering with emotion, he spoke. “Hi…historically the emerald is said to bestow its wearer with unchanging l... love and faithfulness. I…I want our love to last a lifetime. Catherine Helva Grant w...will you marry me?”
For once in Cat’s life, she was completely dumbfounded. She looked intently into the earnest man’s face, his blue eyes pleading for a positive answer. All at once, her life and his felt perfect… whole. In a voice completely void of purr, she answered. “Yes George. Yes. I will marry you.”
The patrons, waiters and Maitre de, broke out in hearty cheers and applause. He gazed at Catherine, seeing tears of love spill down her cheeks as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.
