Melissa rolled her neck and hunched her shoulders in an attempt to release the stress. Reaching up with her right hand, she massaged the knots along the left side of her neck and sighed with relief as the muscles relaxed and she felt the tension ease. Looking at her watch, she was surprised to see it was almost six in the evening.

"Great," she muttered pushing back her roller chair from the slanted design table. Hastily, she covered the blueprint on the table and gathered her purse and jacket. "Now I'm going to be late. Come on, Augie."

The grey-and-black furry dog instantly leapt up from his place under her work table and wagged his curled tail happily at her. She ruffled her fingers through his mane and grinned. Augie always brought a smile to her face, no matter what was going on in her life. She really didn't know what she'd do without the Keeshond who kept her company during the long hours she spent at Fox Hollow estate developments. Often, he was the only companion she had all day.

Straightening, she trotted across the room with him beside her. Without a backward glance, she turned off the light and closed the door behind them. Reflex made her double-check it was locked securely. Dashing for the Jeep Cherokee angled into the closest parking space, she dragged her arms into a wool double-breasted jacket.

Even though she was in a hurry, she couldn't help but pause to admire her new vehicle. Its dark green exterior and solid go-anywhere look suited Melissa. With her Jeep, she felt comfortable whether she was headed to a construction site to supervise her design or downtown to the theatre, like she was now. And it had plenty of room for her canine companion when he accompanied her to work.

Unless I really get a move on, I won't be able to hook up with Jackson until the end of the first scene. And Jackson, stickler for schedules that he was, would be less than pleased.

"Well, might as well call him now and tell him to meet me at the theatre," she decided aloud as she unlocked the driver's side door. Tossing in her purse after Augie popped onto the passenger seat, Melissa realized her cell phone was still in her briefcase -- safely locked in the office she'd just left. With a growl of irritation, she told Augie to stay and jogged across the lawn to the front door of Fox Hollow Development Corporation, jiggling her keys as she went.

If any of the staff had still been working, they'd have stopped to watch Melissa. Her job as an architect allowed her to dress casually unless she was meeting with clients, so she was comfortable wearing a pair of burgundy slim-cut pants and flat shoes along with a silk blouse and the hound's-tooth wool jacket she'd thrown on during her first trip to the truck. The burgundy and silver tones of the outfit perfectly complemented her short, shaggy, ash-blonde hair and soft complexion. Even thought the day's makeup had faded, Melissa was a beautiful woman.

Hers was not a classic look, though. Her nose was straight enough, but her mouth was too wide and her hair too individual for perfection. Her beauty flowed from a deep well of courage overlaid with a patina of sadness, combining to keep her from being too exotic. Over the years, many people had compared her to Meg Ryan, but Melissa felt she didn't look at all like the bubbly film star. For one thing, Melissa insisted, she was at least two inches shorter than Meg and had grey eyes, which had been known to flash an electric silver when she was extremely angry or aroused. And right now, as she struggled with the lock, those remarkable eyes were starting to spark.

More hurry, less speed.

With a final shove, the door gave and she rushed into the room, glancing left and right for her missing briefcase. She spotted it peeking from under the couch. Melissa squatted beside the furniture, grabbed the leather pouch and started to drag it out. It caught on something under the sofa. Melissa was forced to lay flat on her stomach and reach under to wedge it free. Finally hauling it out, Melissa pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned back against the side of the couch. She flipped open her leather satchel and reached inside for her cell phone.

Closing her eyes she hit a speed dial button and listened to the warble of Jackson's phone. She could picture the flat phone tucked inside the breast pocket of her fiancé's Hugo Boss suit -- navy, of course, with a white button-down shirt and red-and-navy striped tie. His wingtips would be deepest black and polished to the highest shine like they were every morning. Jackson had the right look for selling the upscale estates she'd been designing for his firm, Fox Hollow Development Corporation, for the past three years. He moved easily among the doctors, lawyers, businessmen, corporate magnates and other professionals who could afford the individually designed Fox Hollow homes that started at two million dollars.

As Melissa well knew, Jackson's phone was far too polite to ring and interrupt someone; it merely vibrated for Jackson's information, and if he was unable to extricate himself tactfully from his conversation within four rings, the caller was immediately sent to a service. Not a machine for Jackson. His callers were too important to talk to a machine. They deserved a real person waiting twenty-four hours a day to take their messages and relay them to Jackson. So, Melissa knew she would reach Jackson or his service quickly. And Jackson always checked in with his service within minutes of his phone alerting him to a call. If she didn't reach him now, he would phone her back while she was on the road home. But on the third ring, the connection clicked.

"Jackson Tobin speaking." His voice was cordial, clipped and without inflection.

"Jackson, it's me."

"I do hope you're already on your way over here, Melissa." Still no inflection.

The "hope" was merely an expression, she knew.

"Well, I'm just now leaving the office." She waited.

"You realize it's after six already?" Now there was a definite inflection in his voice.

"I was working on the Dykstras' house and just five minutes ago noticed the time. I'm on my way out the door right now."

"Are you dressed for tonight?"

"Well..." Melissa knew Jackson would not find her outfit appropriate for the theatre, and unlike him, she didn't keep a set of formal wear at the office. Besides, she intended to take Augie home before she went to the theatre, but Jackson would get upset if she told him that. As far as he was concerned, the dog could sit in a parking garage until the play was over. And there was no way Melissa would ever leave her dog alone in a vehicle. There were too many people who could break in to steal him.

She didn't want to start an argument with Jackson that they'd had before, so she simply said, "I want to change into that new black dress I got last month." She paused, but not long enough for Jackson to speak. "It'll look wonderful with the pearls you gave me a couple of weeks ago."

"That it will. I think it'll be best to meet at the theatre. I'll leave your ticket at the 'Will Call' window in case you don't make it before the first curtain."

"Great, but I'll really try to be there in time."

"I can't see how you'll make it home to change and all the way downtown by eight."

Melissa felt her mood drop. "I'll give it a try anyway. See you there."

"Good."

Melissa knew better than to say "goodbye." Jackson never terminated a phone conversation with her with goodbye. He never had, but simply hung up when finished talking. Early in their relationship, Melissa had found herself talking to a dial tone more than once. Now she knew. Once he'd received the information he needed, Jackson was no longer interested in a telephone conversation.

And, he acted the same in person.

Appalled at her traitorous thoughts, Melissa jumped to her feet and dashed for the door again. She could almost hear her friend Sharon saying, "Well, he could be a bit more interested in other people, you know."

But now wasn't the time to worry about it. Unless she really hurried, she wasn't going to make it to the theatre in time. Racing to the Jeep, she tossed in her briefcase, placed the cell phone on top of her purse, and slid behind the wheel. She ruffled Augie's fur once more in a futile attempt to relax, and in moments was on her way home.

Thirty minutes later, Melissa pulled into the driveway of her two-story stone condo. Still rushing, she stepped out onto the interlocking stone of the driveway and reached back into the vehicle, groping for her purse and briefcase. Augie pranced beside her, obviously hoping for playtime in the back yard, jumping on and off the agility equipment she'd installed the previous summer.

As she jerked at the handbag in her hurry, the shoulder strap caught on the edge of the door. In an instant, the contents of her purse were strewn across the paving stones. Melissa sighed and shook her head as she dropped to her knees and fumbled under the Jeep for her lipstick.

"Damn," she muttered as it skittered away from her fingertips. Finally, it was within her grasp and she shoved it back into the purse with the rest of her personal items. With the purse dangling from her shoulder and the briefcase under her arm, she tore up the walkway, unlocked the front door, rushed into the house and dropped everything on the foyer floor. Augie flew through to the kitchen where the housekeeper, who worked two afternoons a week, would have set out his bowl of kibble with a cut-up hot dog on top-one of his favorite treats.

Not slowing down, she headed for her loft bedroom overlooking the living room. She took the stairs two at a time, undoing buttons and peeling off the jacket as she ran. Melissa dropped it in a heap on her queen-size bed as she swung towards the mirrored closet doors.

In less than a half-hour, she'd repaired her day-weary makeup, changed her clothes, refreshed her hair and was ready for an evening at the theatre. She was clad in a soft, clinging, black silk dress that just skimmed the tops of her knees. When she had seen it at an upscale department store, she'd had to have the dress -- one of her few extravagances -- because of its spectacular design. The demure front neckline was offset by a deep-plunging back. Melissa felt sexy just slipping into it.

Her long legs were now encased in black silk, too. Jackson loved her in stockings and a garter belt, and Melissa thought the surprise might help make up for being late. Sliding her feet into black evening sandals with four-inch heels, she grimaced.

It was one more of Jackson's fantasies she indulged when they went out. Even though she was tall, he was taller and had a penchant for women in heels. She knew her feet would feel crumpled within minutes, and if they had to stand around at intermission, she'd secretly kick off the heels during the second act.

"Oh, well, Jackson'll love the look." Melissa pulled open her jewelry box and removed the pearls Jackson had given her.

Unlike anything else she owned, the faux necklace was showy and hung in a triple loop to a mid-point between her breasts. The clasp was highlighted by dozens of rhinestones, as were the earrings. Each consisted of a button of pearls surrounded by rhinestones that fit against her ear. Attached was a long oval drop of pearls encircled by more rhinestones. The effect was a gaudy contrast to the simple silk dress, but Melissa had already put off wearing them out for almost two weeks since Jackson had given them to her. Wearing them tonight was another way of apologizing for not watching the clock.

With a final glance in the mirror, Melissa pulled a small evening bag off the closet's top shelf and grabbed a cashmere wrap. At least it would cover the jewelry part of the time. On her high-heels, she tottered down the stairs to the foyer, where she quickly retrieved her keys. Rummaging around in her purse, she pulled out her lipstick, wallet and perfume and tossed them into her evening bag. Applying a few drops of Chanel, she hurried, as much as the shoes allowed, to the kitchen and grabbed an apple out of the fridge. It was all she would get to eat until after tonight's performance and, as it was, she would have to eat it as she drove downtown.

Glancing at her watch, she realized if she left now and was lucky with traffic she would make it just in time for the start of tonight's performance of Grease. She gave Augie a quick kiss on the top of his head, and made sure his doggie door was unlocked so he could go into the fenced, private back yard at his choice.

"See ya, buddy. We'll have a big cuddle when I get home." She dashed for the door.

Melissa was blessed with both light traffic and a valet waiting to park her Jeep when she pulled to the front of the Majestyk Theatre. It was less than five minutes before the eight o'clock curtain. Hurriedly, she exchanged her keys for a claim chit and trotted as quickly as her heels would allow to the box office. She found the "Will Call" window and, in moments, had her ticket in hand. The seat was eight rows back from the orchestra, second seat in from the aisle -- Jackson's favorite location. As she made her way down the aisle, the house lights flashed twice. She had only moments before they would dim for the start of the play.

Reaching their seats, she leaned forward and touched Jackson's shoulder. With a smile, he turned and stood. They had but a moment to touch lips, and Jackson's hand at the small of her back guided her into the row as the lights dimmed and the music swelled.

"You look delicious," Jackson murmured with a smile as his lips brushed her ear. "And you smell divine. I appreciate you getting here in time. You must have flown."

"Well, I didn't waste any time," she whispered back as the music rose.

As the first toe-tapping song began, Jackson slid his arm to the open back of her dress. She started as his hand crept along her ribs and his fingertips brushed the side swell of her breast. His fingers continued to explore and stroke her sensitive bare skin as Sandy and Danny discovered teenage love on stage.

Melissa was surprised by Jackson's attentions. Because they both worked hard and dealt with deadlines and the attendant pressures, the physical side of their relationship had dwindled of late. Recently, she'd had to initiate such activity between them, and she'd found herself less and less interested in doing so. In response to tonight's attentiveness, Melissa leaned closer against him, allowing his fingers easier and more complete access. Guilt swirled in the back of her mind as she reconsidered her earlier critical thoughts about his distant conduct.

Banishing his previous cool behavior on the phone from her thoughts, she whispered, "I'm wearing those stockings you brought back for me from Paris."

"Wonderful," he breathed in her ear accompanying it with a quick flick of his tongue. "Perhaps later you can model them with just the pearls and heels."

Melissa was shocked by Jackson's sudden and overt interest. Things must've gone well at the bank today or he wouldn't be so relaxed.

Copyright © 2003 by Elizabeth J. Gilmer