She's Always a Woman to Me

But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Because she's always a woman to me.

 

As he approached Trixie’s apartment door, Jim carefully juggled the load he was carrying, in an attempt to free up a hand so he could knock. He didn’t want to risk dumping the expensive French pastry he’d purchased all over the hallway floor and methodically set down the bottle of wine before he knocked. Frowning as silence ensued he knocked again. He glanced at his watch before knocking a third time.

He reached for his cell phone with a frustrated sigh, fumbling as he hit the speed dial button for Trixie’s cell number. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, Trix,” he said into the phone with a patience he didn’t feel. “Where are you?”

“In the elevator,” she answered. “Where are you?”

“Outside your door,” he replied, more curtly than he intended.

Trixie groaned. “It can’t be that time already! Hang on! I’ll be there in just seconds.”

Jim shoved the cell phone into his pocket and picked up the bottle of wine. By the time he had once again secured his packages, he heard the elevator ding, and Trixie rushed out to greet him.

“Oh, gosh, Jim!” Trixie, still wearing the same suit she had worn earlier in the day at the fundraiser luncheon, looked more than a little harried.

“I had no idea it was so late. I was working on a case with Sean and let the time get away from me.” Her keys were already in her hand, and she jabbed the door key into the lock, twisting it to release the deadbolt. She pushed the door open and motioned for Jim to precede her into the apartment.

Her explanation swept all concern over her tardiness out of Jim’s head. “Who’s Sean?” he asked as soon as she had shut the door to the apartment.

Trixie reached to take the bottle of wine from Jim’s hand as well as the pastry box. “He’s my new employee. I had so much work that I had to hire some help. He just started today.” She moved towards the kitchen. “It looks like you picked up dessert as well as pizza,” she said, attempting to peek through a slit in the white pastry box.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier today?” Jim blurted. “That you had hired this Sean person to work with you?”

Trixie bit her lip. “No, that’s wasn’t it. But I did plan to tell you about that as well.”

“I see.” He paused and studied the bottle of wine for a moment. “Do you have a corkscrew I can use to open this wine?”

Trixie stepped over to the drawer next to the sink, pulled the needed utensil out, and handed it to Jim. “What kind of pizza did you get?”

“Thin crust with everything,” he answered, deftly inserting the corkscrew into the wine bottle’s cork. “I picked up one of those fancy French pastries Mart raves about for dessert.”

“Oh, yum!” Trixie said, smiling for the first time since she had exited the elevator. “You brought my favorite pizza and my favorite pastry. What did I do to deserve that?”

Jim shrugged. “Who says you have to do anything?” He glanced at his own worn blue jeans and comfortable long -sleeved shirt and then at her rumpled business suit. “We’re not in any hurry to eat, and this wine really should breathe for a few minutes. Do you want to change into something more comfortable?”

He immediately winced as he realized the nuance of his suggestion. However, Trixie didn’t seem to notice.

“I’d love too!” she said, cheering up a bit. “Just give me five minutes.” She moved toward the bedroom and looked over her shoulder. “The wine glasses are in the cabinet next to the sink, if you want to grab them.”

Jim nodded and took a half step across the kitchen, pulling two glasses out of the cabinet and setting them on the table. Prowling the kitchen as he waited, he pulled open the pantry door and noticed a stack of paper plates. It was easy to snag a few plates along with a small stack of napkins, and he placed his find on the kitchen table next to the pizza box. He looked around the tidy kitchen and realizing there was little else he could do to prepare for dinner, he strolled into the living room. Glancing at the darkening twilight outside her balcony, he debated starting a fire, but it hadn’t been a terribly cold day for late March. He pushed open the door to her small balcony and stared at the lights of Manhattan, not wanting to admit to the wave of jealousy he had experienced when Trixie mentioned she was working with a new employee, a new male employee.

He watched the traffic on the street below, lost in thoughts of his special girl when her voice interrupted his reverie.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked from the doorway.

Jim turned to look at her, noticing how much more relaxed she seemed in jeans and a comfortable sweatshirt. He wondered why something as ordinary as the sight of Trixie’s bare feet and dark rose-painted toenails seemed so sexy. Suddenly, the cooler night air seemed like a good idea.

“It’s not bad,” he finally answered. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head and stepped out into the balcony. “I love it out here,” she admitted to him as she leaned over the stone wall to look down at the street below. “This is my favorite part of this apartment.” She sniffed the night air. “New York smells like only New York can smell.”

Jim slipped an arm around her and pulled her next to him. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” They enjoyed the view for a few moments, before Jim noticed Trixie shuffling her bare feet. “Are you ready to eat? If not, I think you might want to get some shoes.”

She shook her head. “Let’s eat. I’m not putting on any shoes.”

The sound of Trixie’s telephone ringing interrupted their return to the kitchen. Jim waited as she stopped to answer the phone. It was easy to tell from her one-sided conversation that the caller was Dan. He waited until she hung up the phone.

“I take it Dan’s coming over?” Jim asked.

Trixie chewed her lip and nodded slowly. “Yeah, he’s on his way. He wants to give us the latest information he uncovered on my so-called stalker.”

“What do you mean your ‘so-called’ stalker? Dan seemed pretty certain you had a stalker.” Jim’s look of concern was evident. “Is this new employee working on the stalker case for you?”

Trixie sighed. “No. My new employees,” Trixie emphasized the plural of the word, “are working on several cases for me. There’s just more business than I can handle.”

“Then what did you mean about your so-called stalker?” Jim asked. He moved to get another wine glass out of her cabinet for Dan.

Trixie raised a hand. “You might as well put that back. Dan said he was bringing beer. What I meant was that I do not have a stalker.”

Jim replaced the extra wine glass before turning to look at her. “When did you decide that you didn’t have a stalker?”

“When I found out that Ben Riker was the guy informing the press of my whereabouts.”

 

 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m quitting my job.”

Mitsy dropped her fork and stared at Charlie in amazement. “You’re what?”

Charlie gave her a nod, as if to reassure her that she had heard him correctly. “I’m going to be leaving Connors, Ford, and Newman. I’m going to hang out my own shingle.”

Mitsy took a sip of water and picked up her fork, pointing it at him, her eyes narrowing. “Exactly when did you decide this?”

Charlie thought for a moment. “To be fair, I think I decided about five minutes after my breakfast meeting with Andie, but lunch with Dad was the clincher. I’m going to open my own law firm.”

Mitsy gave him a measured look. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I quit my job this afternoon. I gave Simon a thirty day notice.”

“You did n’t!?” It was Charlie’s turn to be surprised. “When did you decide that?”

“About five minutes after my eight o’clock meeting with Simon.” She grinned. “To be fair, in about a year, I’ll probably thank him for being honest with me. But it’s time for me to spend some time working on my own.”

“Are you going out on your own? Opening your own firm?” Charlie was amazed. Besides agreeing to date him, it was the first major decision he had ever seen Mitsy make.

Mitsy shook her head in response. “No, I’m going to work for a firm that doesn’t compete directly with Control & Venture.”

“What exactly did Simon say to you?” Charlie’s eyes narrowed.

Mitsy shook her head. “Uh, uh. You first, buddy. You started this conversation. Why are you leaving Comrades, Freeloaders, and Nuisance?”

Charlie grinned as he shook his head. Mitsy had poked fun at his colleagues since they first started dating, thinking the other lawyers in his firm entirely too stuffy. “They offered me a partnership.”

Mitsy laughed. “Oh, yeah, because it makes perfect sense to quit when someone offers you a promotion. I’m leaving because Simon offered me a vice president position. NOT!” She picked up her napkin and dabbed her mouth. “Come on, Charlie. Let’s move this conversation to the couch. Are you finished eating?”

Charlie looked down at the two empty plates and then back at Mitsy. “What else would we eat, sugar plum? The plates?” His blue eyes twinkled. “The couch is an excellent suggestion. Shall I bring the wine bottle?”

“Absolutely, my dear,” Mitsy answered sweetly. “We can’t let a good bottle of wine go to waste. We should have opened some champagne. You know, to celebrate both of us quitting our jobs.”

The two of them casually moved from Charlie’s small but elegant dining room into the living area, with wine glasses and the superb 2005 Pinot Noir in hand. Snuggling carefully on the comfortable leather sofa, they resumed their conversation.

“Okay, Charlie. Spill it. The firm offered you a partnership, and you decided to go out on your own. What gives? Did they fire your secretary or something?” Mitsy smiled over the rim of her Waterford wine glass.

Charlie moved one arm around Mitsy’s shoulders. “To be fair, you’re going to think I’m terribly egotistical when I tell you why. But it’s something that’s important to me.” He paused and took a deep breath. For the first time, he worried about her disapproval of his decision and the reason for making it.

“Andie wouldn’t consider adding my name to the firm’s letterhead.”

Mitsy frowned. “But aren’t all partners listed on the letterhead?”

Charlie shook his head. “A bad choice of phrasing, sweetie. What I meant was to add my name to the firm’s name. Instead of Connors, Ford & Newman, I wanted it to be Connors, Ford, Newman, & Prescott.”

“She’s willing to lose you over that!”

“Apparently so,” Charlie admitted. “She gave me some explanation about how they’d have to add George Rose to the name and it’d be too long.”

“She’s an idiot,” Mitsy sniffed. “First, George manages the law business. He doesn’t bring in the billable clients like you do. Doesn’t she realize how much prestige you’ve brought to the firm?”

“Actually, I think she does,” Charlie answered. “Maybe her ego is in the way a bit. She likes having her name as one of three names, instead of four or five names.”

Mitsy pondered this bit of information and conceded, “You may be right.” She paused for a moment. “How many of your clients do you think will follow you out the door?”

“A few,” Charlie replied. “It doesn’t matter if none do. I’m good at what I do, and clients like results. It may be tough at first, but we both know that I’m not going to go hungry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mitsy chided. “More than a few will follow you. Just you wait and see.”

Charlie laughed. “What? Is that it? No lecture on how I need to be certain I’m making the right decision, or isn’t it time for me to go to work for Eastway-Berkley?”

Mitsy frowned. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To build your own firm?”

“Yes, it is,” he answered slowly. His gaze was questioning as he tipped her chin up and stared into her eyes. “But how did you know that? We’ve never discussed it.”

“No, not directly,” Mitsy admitted. “But it’s sort of obvious to people who really know you. You’re passionate about your job. You thrive on building a case, arguing it in court. If I were in trouble, legal trouble, I’d want you as my lawyer.”

“You’re only the second woman who’s ever realized that about me,” Charlie murmured. He dropped a kiss behind her ear. “No wonder I’m crazy about you.”

Mitsy stretched and placed her wine glass on the table next to Charlie’s, before winding her arms around his neck. “The second woman?” she inquired sweetly, brushing his lips with her own. “Who was the first, pray tell?”

“The one who hooked me up with you,” Charlie murmured seductively. “Beatrix.”

“Beatrix!” Mitsy pushed back in horror. “Oh, god, Charlie! Beatrix is never going to forgive me!”

Charlie blinked rapidly, unsure what had instantly disintegrated the moment of intimacy. “Uh, why won’t Beatrix forgive you?”

“Oh, Charlie!” Mitsy wailed, hitting his chest with her hand. “You remember. When I came over here and told you how Simon fired her.”

“Yes, I remember,” he answered, truly puzzled. “But you didn’t fire her, he did.”

“But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t stick up for her!” Mitsy cried. “Don’t you see? That’s why I had to quit my job. When it’s Daddy’s company and his money and his business, I get all flustered and unsure of myself. It’s too hard to make a decision, or stand up to people because … what if I’m wrong? A real manager would have stood up to Simon and argued for the good points that Beatrix made in her presentation. That’s why Simon won’t consider me for Don’s position. He said I was a coward.”

Charlie was quiet, hesitating as he debated what he should say to Mitsy. He had a similar conversation with his father earlier that day about Mitsy lacking the courage of her convictions. Is this the epiphany she needs?

Charlie took a deep breath. “Coward is a pretty strong word, muffin. He actually called you a coward?”

“No, not exactly, but that sums it up.” Mitsy frowned. “Can I tell you about my new job?”

“You already have a job?” Charlie was surprised.

“Yes,” Mitsy answered smugly. “To be fair, it was a job that was offered to me a few months back and at the time, I told Margaret that I couldn’t consider leaving Control & Venture.” Mitsy took a deep breath. “After my conversation with Simon….” Mitsy swallowed. “I realized he made some good points about my timidity in the office. So, instead of going to the fundraiser planning lunch, I made a list of my ideal job qualities and realized it was the same job that had been offered to me at the first of the year.” Mitsy tilted her head to one side and started ticking off her actions on her finger. “Then I made a phone call to Margaret. I found out the position was still open. She offered me the job. I accepted.” She stopped and grinned widely. “I start in a month. Sooner if Simon lets me off the hook from a thirty-day notice.”

“What did Simon say when you turned in your notice?” Charlie asked, surprised that Mitsy had made such a life-changing decision.

“Simon may not actually realize I quit,” Mitsy admitted. “I left my resignation letter on his desk with a note after he left today. We have a standing meeting every morning. I’ll discuss it with him then.”

“So you haven’t told your father either?”

Mitsy shook her head.

“Are you going to change your mind if your Dad offers you the vice president position?” Charlie wondered. He paused, realizing he had actually voiced his thought.

Mitsy shook her head. “No. I made a commitment to Margaret. It wouldn’t be fair for me to back down. I’m meeting her for lunch tomorrow to discuss my package. Besides, it took a lot for Simon to tell me the hard truth about my lack of decision-making.” Mitsy’s brown eyes seemed to implore Charlie to understand. “Have you ever felt like if you had to screw up a job so bad, you wanted to be treated like everyone else?”

“What do you mean?”

Mitsy took a deep breath. “I’ve never felt like I could be fired while working for Daddy. One summer, before I started college, I was working in the mailroom. I left early and an overnight package didn’t make it out the door that day. The company lost a huge contract because our bid was late.”

Mitsy paled at the memory. “I should have been fired. Seriously, Charlie, I left to meet Kitty Cat and a friend for Fashion Week. When I found out about the late bid, I kept expecting Daddy to call me up to his office and fire me, but he never said a word. No one ever said a word. I mean, the other mailroom workers gossiped about it, but my boss never called me in and asked me for an explanation or anything. Later, I found out that another clerk took the fall for me. Ever since that day …” Mitsy swallowed again. “Daddy’s never going to tell me when I screw up. There’s not a manager working at Control & Venture who’s ever had the guts to tell it like it was… until today. Everyone needs to grow and learn from their mistakes, not have them brushed under the rug just because they’re the owner’s daughter.” She gave Charlie an anxious look. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it makes perfect sense. So who is Margaret, and why did she offer you a job a few months ago?"

“Margaret runs her late husband’s business. She’s actually very smart, but just at physics, not business or accounting. Her husband was the one who took care of the business part of the business, and he died about four or five years ago. Mickey, her late husband, had a doctorate in mathematics as well as an MBA. Margaret’s been struggling and in the last year, the company has really been floundering. Their son hasn’t decided what to be when he grows up, although she said he definitely has the math knack like she and Mickey did. But Mike prefers to work for the Government.” Mitsy shrugged as if such a concept was foreign to her. “In any event, Margaret remarried and wants to start thinking about retirement. My challenge is to get the business into shape so she can either sell it, or let me keep running it if her son decides to come back home.”

“Do I know Margaret?” he asked. “This story sounds familiar.” He sat up straighter and snapped his fingers. “Wait! You’re talking about the Kingston family, Maggie and Mickey the math magicians.”

Mitsy grinned. “Yeah, that’s what a lot of people called them. By this time next month, I’ll be the Chief Financial Officer of Kingston Technology.”

 

 

“I don’t know who I want to go punch out first, that scumbag Riker, or that jerk Simon Farnworthy!” Jim angrily jabbed the elevator button outside Trixie’s apartment.

“Farnsworth,” Dan answered. “Simon Farnsworth. Your dad doesn’t hire any creeps like that, does he?”

“Hell, no!” Jim said, pushing the button again as the two friends waited for the elevator car to arrive on the nineteenth floor. He shot a fulminous look at Dan. “I know where Riker lives,” he muttered ominously.

“Thought you just told Trixie you’d let her handle things with him,” Dan reminded him.

“Why did you let me do that!?” Jim punched the elevator button for the third time.

Dan suppressed a grin. He wasn’t at all sure the mechanical workings of the elevator would survive Jim’s frustration. “Perhaps it’s because Trixie’s made her case like a reasonable adult and a seasoned detective,” Dan suggested as they entered the empty elevator car and descended to the lobby of the building. “It’s obvious she knows how to handle herself. Besides, I noticed how you worded that promise. You left yourself a huge loop-hole to have a personal conversation with Riker.”

“You picked up on that, huh?” Jim grinned.

“Yeah, are you going to see him now?”

“No way!” Jim vowed. “I’m too angry with him right now. Besides, sometimes it’s a good idea to let things alone.” Jim paused and then gave a wry grin. “For a while! Let Riker get lulled into a false sense of security that I’m not going to say anything about it.”

The two men exited the elevator and continued walking before Jim spoke up. “She’s taking that firing thing hard, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she put a good face on it, but it bothered her.” Dan cast a sideways look over at Jim. “Figured you would’ve stayed with her tonight.”

Jim shook his head. “She didn’t ask.”

“Idiot!” Dan muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim bristled.

“You. Or rather, you and Trixie. You’re blind when it comes to how she feels about you. She may not need you to go punch out Farnsworth or Riker but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need a shoulder to cry on about losing that assignment.”

Jim was quiet as he pondered Dan’s words.

“You know I don’t mean literally cry, right?” Dan asked, breaking the silence of half a block. “I don’t think of Trixie as the kind of girl that cries all the time.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. Now I’m worried about how much work she’s taking on,” Jim admitted. “Do you think she’ll be okay working with that Sean guy?”

“She’s not stupid, Jim. You noticed she hired ex-CIB agents. She’s going to be fine.” Dan paused and cast a glance at Jim. “You wouldn’t be jealous, would you?”

“Of course not!” Jim protested. “He’s just a colleague. Besides, she hired a woman to work with them as well. “

“Yeah, but she’s more of an office manager, from what I gathered. She’ll be out in the field, late night assignments, working with Sean more like a partner.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Jim glared.

“Naah,” Dan said easily. “At least, not yet. Trixie’s like my sister and I don’t want her to get hurt. If you can’t handle the fact that she’s going to work closely with other detectives, male detectives, you need to get out now.”

“That’s not fair!” Jim cried. “Trixie’s never given me a reason not to trust her and you know as well as I do, that I do not have a problem with Trixie’s career. I’ve known for years that she was going to be a detective. It’s one of the things I love about her.”

Dan held up a hand. “Peace, dude, you know I had to bring it up. Let’s get down to the bare bones of the matter. If I decided to go after Riker, there isn’t a whole lot she can do to me.”

“What do you mean?” Jim asked quietly.

“I could tell Trix that I’m looking to use Riker as a source on some cases. She’d get it.” Dan paused a moment. “Not sure what she’ll do to you if you go after Riker, though. Guess, you’ll just have to take your hits.”

“Are you going to sell me out to protect yourself, Mangan?” Jim asked.

“Nope.” Dan laughed. “Like it or not, Trixie’s a federal agent. She’ll understand about me, because I’m part of the brotherhood of law enforcement agents. You’re the only one who needs to be worried.”

“Don’t you mean an ex-federal agent?” Jim asked, giving Dan an odd look.

Dan shrugged. “There aren’t any ex-federal agents, only former federal agents. Trixie might have left the Bureau but she’ll never actually be out of the Bureau.”