But it was late, and it was cold. And she was alone. I could hear his voice in my head telling me to protect her, even though we both know she's more than capable of
taking care of herself. She saw me. She half smiled as she realized that I was following her, and she invited me to walk next to her. She spent ten minutes
convincing me to call her 'Alexis' rather than 'Ms. Davis'. She spent the next ten minutes half ranting that she couldn\u2019t believe he was having her followed, but her
eyes gave away that she was touched.

Halfway through her diatribe I gave her my coat, and the size of it dwarfed her frame. It was interesting to see the 'larger than life' attorney turn into a little girl
playing dress up. We walked silently then, back to the towers. In the elevator she commented that he'd been out of town for longer than she'd expected. I nodded
silently. We stepped off and I walked her the rest of the way to her door as she dug her keys out of her purse. She turned to face me. She opened her mouth, and I
was expecting a simple thank you and good night. But her mouth closed again, and her eyes studied me. Not used to being scrutinized, I dropped my eyes and
shuffled my feet. Her mouth opened again, and she invited me inside.

When I raised my eyes I saw a much different look on her face. It was almost as if I could see the plan formulating in her head. I didn't answer for so long she asked again. "For coffee," she insisted. And I chuckled to myself. Her coffee was notoriously bad. She caught my amusement. "A nightcap then. Are you still on duty?" I shook my head and she turned the key. The door opened and I followed her in.

Somewhere between the third or fourth drink I'd taken off my suit jacket, and she'd lost her heels. The conversation was light on content and revealed nothing. Her face took on a relaxed look I'm certain she only shared with a small group of people. She smiled lazily at me as her foot poked my side to emphasize a joke I don't remember the punch line to.

And then she moved from under me and stood. I began to offer an apology, but my protests were silenced as she held out her hand. I exhaled a breath I hadn't
realized I was holding and met her eyes. What was this? If it was anything. But these are questions that didn't need to be, and would most likely never be answered.
My hand reached for hers, and I let her lead me upstairs.

********
The second time was unexpected.
She'd been stalking between the penthouses all day. She'd had a couple visitors. None of whom she'd appeared to be crazy about. She was annoyed. I'd been

A half-hour later Max showed up to relieve me. He went into the penthouse to speak to the boss and told me to have a good night. Not sure of how much time I had,
I walked to her door. I knocked softly, almost willing her not to hear it. Of course she did, and the door swung open. Her eyes were red and her lips twisted in a
scowl. The scowl released when she saw me, and she attempted an "I'm fine" smile. I wasn't sure what to say to her, and I know she didn't know what to say to me.

She agreed.
The next morning her fingernails traced down my back as I sat on the edge of her bed. When I turned to look at her she was smiling. I smiled back.
I leaned over and dropped a single kiss on her mouth before whispering, "Goodbye, Alexis," and was out the door in a matter of minutes.

*********
The third time was about him.
And we both knew it.
I'm not an idiot. I'm also not blind. You'd be hard pressed to find someone in this town who knows more about the two of them together. Or, not together, as the

I told her he wasn't back yet. And she half cackled a response I couldn't make out. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed his living room. She looked as if she was
about to break something. I rested against the edge of the desk and decided to let her go to it. Anything tangible could be replaced, her heart wasn't as easy. She
circled the room several times slowly as if trying to choose the ideal object to inflict her rage on.

no, and I overrode them with the remaining urge and slid myself further back and she moved on top of me.
It was fast, and it was angry.
And then it was over. She straightened her skirt and looked at me. No words were exchanged except, "Tell him I'm looking for him."

********
The fourth time was goodbye.
And it was my choice.
I went over purposefully, when I knew he wouldn't be home. I needed to talk to her, and I needed her to not be angry or pre-occupied. I should've known better

I grinned at her. As had been so common with us, no words were needed. She leaned over and placed a soft kiss against my cheek and dragged her lips to my ears. "One for the road?" she whispered playfully. My hand came to rest on her hip as I pulled her into my lap. I stood and cradled her in my arms as we moved up her stairs. This was the last time.

flushed. She handed me my coat that I'd left on the couch. The shy smile of the first time was back. I shrugged into it and headed to the door.
"Hey, Johnny?"
I turned towards her.
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
"You're welcome, Ms. Davis."
"Alexis."
"If it's all the same... 'Ms. Davis' is safer."
She thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement.
"You're right."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
I unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. And she remained standing there as the door closed between us.
*finis*

I was coming back from a visit to my nephew. It was a cold night and I had not dressed accordingly. I hurried along the street, but soon became aware that I was being followed. When I turned around I saw him lingering behind me. Someone should tell him he's a lousy tail. But I laughed ever so slightly and invited him to walk with me rather than behind me. He smiled sheepishly and joined me and we walked. I chattered on about the cold and damp. He was still calling me 'Ms. Davis'. This man that I have known for three years cannot bring himself to use my first name. I teased him about it for at least ten minutes before he finally consented to using my given name.

Then I launched into him about the nerve of his boss, having me tailed. I've told him time and again that I'm perfectly adept at protecting myself. I think he has a tendency to forget the family I come from. I am stronger than he gives me credit for being, but at the same time, a feeling I can't quite place sends a soft blush to my cheeks.

Halfway home, he handed me his coat, as my teeth had been chattering along with my mini-rant at his employer. It is far too large for me; but the size and feel of
the material created a cocoon of safety I hadn't been looking for, but did not find unpleasant. When we reached the towers he followed me into the elevator,
intending to see me all the way to my door. I am unaccustomed to acts of chivalry. I mentioned that his boss had been out of town for a longer period of time than
expected. A silent nod was his response.

I fumbled for my keys in the depths of my purse and he stood silently in wait outside my door. Keys in hand, I faced him about to offer a thank you, but found
myself instead studying his features. From the softness of his eyes to the smooth line of his jaw. He dropped his head in what I can only guess was embarrassment.
And then I heard my voice invite him inside.

His eyes met mine for an instant and I knew he could see my thoughts. "For coffee," I insisted, but as it turns out, word travels fast and my troubles with caffeine are widely known. A different approach then. "A nightcap?" He was off duty by now, and I watched him take stock of the situation before he nodded. I turned the key, opened the door and he followed me inside.

effort to get that rare smile to appear. I nudged his ribcage with my stockinged foot to hammer away a punch line that would be forgotten in twenty minutes.
Halfway through the second bottle he was kissing me. He'd moved on top of me and I was reveling in the feel of his lips upon mine.
But I stopped him, and pulled away to stand. His mouth that had just been exploring mine opened and I could almost hear the apology forming. I didn't want an

I'd been having a day. A day so long it seemed to be a day and a half. My client across the hall and I had been going back and forth all afternoon over insignificant language details in a labor contract. The kind of thing he only did when he was bored with himself. He found this tactic immensely entertaining, and for the first hour it is. After the fourth, I tend to get bitchy. This was all coupled with a series of uninvited guests I wasn't in the mood for at all. When my ex showed up to take my sister out and wanted to "talk" beforehand, it was all I could do to keep from smothering him with the couch cushions. The door was barely closed before I finally let out the pent-up frustration of the day in the most primal of screams and a rush of cathartic tears.

Half an hour later I heard a soft knock on the door. I told myself I simply could not take another unwelcome guest and braced myself for a fight as I swung the
door open. He was the last person I expected to see there. I knew my eyes were red from my earlier outburst and I can only imagine the shape I'd twisted my
mouth into, but there he was. Always a man of few words, we'd exchanged even less since our previous...liaison? Encounter? Evening? I made an attempt at my usual
"I'm fine" smile, but I saw him not buying it from the moment I started. We stood staring at each other with no suitable words coming.

The silence was broken by the click of the other door and the sound of it opening. I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside faster than he could protest. Neither of us would be able to explain the situation, and frankly I wasn't in the mood for explanation anyway. He helped me close the door and we both rested against it as our employer talked with Max about getting to his office as soon as possible. I heard the elevator close and released a breath. "Close call." I glanced at him. He hadn't moved yet, his eyes still facing into my living room. "Nightcap?" I offered and his head began his shake, but never finished. I rolled along the wood and pressed my mouth to his.

**********
The third time was about someone else.
And we both knew it.
Something is happening. Something that's been trying to happen that I've been trying to hide. It makes my head spin at times, the intensity of the situation. And it

There are moments when I am almost ready to let my guard down. The moments when my heart overtakes my brain and I think that this might possibly work. But
every time we appear to be moving forward to something more, things are derailed almost immediately. Most recently, and usually by the ex-wife. She is manipulative
and it works every time. I am left alone as her latest scheme or ploy is played out. This is not what I want for myself. It is one of those days that I reach my
breaking point.

I was itching for a fight so bad I was ready to crawl out of my skin. I knocked on the door deliberately and forcefully. The door opened, and instead of the object of
my anger I am greeted with the sight of him. His eyes registered shock and concern at seeing me like this as I stalked into the penthouse. This was a side few
people ever see. I consider my rage to be an extremely personal part of me, almost intimate. I don't just get mad, I become furious. I was ready to fight dammit,
and my sparring partner had the audacity to not be present. He told me that he wasn't home, which was redundant, but his job.

My fingers clenched and released as I wandered through the living room. One that I had sat in many times hand holding, talking, arguing and watching things break in anger. He was resting against the desk watching me, but made no move to stop me. He's a smart man. Surely there was something in the room that I could break. It always worked, didn\u2019t it? Break something so it feels as bad as you do? The glass tumblers were too easy, and a liquor bottle was impractical. For as many breakable things in the room the only thing of matter that was actually in danger of breaking was me. I felt his gaze follow me as I prowled the room.

But he let me do it and his hands grasped my hips as I tore at fabric and fought for release.
It was fast, and it was angry. And he didn't deserve it, but he let me anyway.
I moved off him, smoothed my skirt and cleared my throat. "Tell him I'm looking for him."
And I was gone.

*********
The fourth time was goodbye.
It was his choice.
I wasn't expecting him when I opened the door that evening. But there he was, out of his normal suit in jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket I'd never seen. I'd