The airport was busy, as usual.  The check-in lines for all the airlines were long, each one having at least a 30-minute wait...some even longer. 

‘Thank God for First Class,’ Clayton Webb thought as he walked in and took his place in the First Class line.  There was only one person ahead of him.  He didn’t have to wait five minutes before he was summoned to the counter.  “Clayton Webb, e-ticket, no bags,” he said with an air of indifference.

“Ah, Mr. Webb.  Good to see you, again, Sir,” the airline agent greeted him.

Clayton mumbled a greeting back, but his thoughts moved quickly to the meeting ahead of him to plan a new mission.  ‘Should be a walk in the park.  Never be too sure of that...you get cocky, you get sloppy.  Then you get someone killed...’

“What do you mean, I don’t have a seat?  I have a reservation!” a woman’s voice penetrated Webb’s thoughts.  “I’ve traveled on an e-ticket before and never had a problem.   I even have a seat assignment already.  How can you say I don’t have a...”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry.  I don’t show you in the computer at all.  Nothing.  No e-ticket was purchased in your name.  There’s not even a ‘hold’ on a seat for you,” the airline agent tried to explain.

Webb couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.  He was, after all, at the station immediately to the woman’s left.  Then he started hearing a strange noise.  ‘God, what is that whining?  Sounds like a baby, but not quite.’

“That’s ridiculous!  I even called last night to confirm my flight and seat assignment.  Please, look, again,” she requested urgently.  “Shh, baby, it’s okay.  Mommy’s right here,” the woman reached down and stuck her fingers through the wire door of a tiny dog kennel.

The airline agent punched in more codes and tried to locate the woman’s name.  “I’m sorry, Ma’am.  It’s just not here.  Are you sure you are at the correct airline?  This is United Airlines.  Perhaps your reservation is with US Air or Continental.  They both fly directly to San Francisco and have similar departure times.  Let me check those for you...”

“No, I’m sure my reservation is with United.  I always fly United.  You have the most direct flights there, and I have to take a direct flight with the dogs.  They don’t do well if I have to change planes.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.  I don’t have a reservation for you.  I can sell you a ticket, but the only seat left on the flight is in First Class.”

“So, I’ll buy this one, and then my credit card will have two tickets billed to it,” she answered.

“No, Ma’am; I can’t see that’s happening.  But in the event that it does, you need only to call our 800 number and explain the situation.  They’ll remove the other billing.”

“They’ll remove which one?  Coach or First Class?”

“Coach, Ma’am, because you’ll be flying in First Class.”

“But my reservation is for Coach.  That’s the fare I should be paying.  If I had the money to spend on First Class, that’s what I’d have reserved,” she explained patiently.

“Let me get my supervisor,” the agent finally said.

Webb was impressed.  This lovely woman was not angry; she wasn’t ranting and raving at the ticket agent.  She was being cool, calm, and collected...and it was getting her absolutely nowhere.  The dog started whining, again, and she squatted down to stick her fingers through the door, again.

“Ginger, baby, it’s okay, honey.  Mommy’s right here,” she cooed softly. 

“Very good, Mr. Webb, you’re all set,” said the agent at the First Class station.  “Here’s your boarding pass.  You’re in Seat 2B; that’s an aisle seat, as usual.  You’ll be leaving out of Gate C-14.  They’ll begin boarding at 8:45.  Thank you for flying with United Airlines.” 

Webb accepted the folder just as the other agent returned with her supervisor.

“What seems to be the problem?” the supervisor asked.

“The problem,” Webb intervened, “is that this woman should have a seat reserved on this flight, and someone in your Reservations area screwed up.  There’s one seat left in First Class.  Give it to her.”

“Mr. Webb!  It’s good to see you, Sir,” the supervisor acknowledged.  “Let me see what we can do for you, Ma’am.”  He began typing quickly.  “Yes, I see that there is one seat left on this flight and it is indeed in First Class.  And you’d like to take that, Ma’am?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to pay First Class fare.  I should have...” she started.

“No, you’d like to give it to her,” Webb informed him, interrupting her.

“Excuse me, Sir,” the first agent began, “but this doesn’t concern you.  I suggest...”

The supervisor interrupted, “Of course, Mr. Webb.  You’re so right.  This won’t be a problem at all. I see you have one bag here, and you’ll be taking two dogs in the cabin with you?”  She nodded and handed him the documents from the Vet. He typed some more, and within seconds a boarding pass and baggage ticket were printing.  “Here you are, Mrs. Dwyer.  You’re in Seat 2A; that’s on the window.  Your flight leaves from Gate C-14 and should begin boarding at about 8:45.  My sincere apologies for the trouble, Ma’am.  Have a good flight.”  He nodded to Webb, “Mr. Webb.”

The woman stood dumbfounded, looking between the supervisor and Webb.  “Thank you,” she managed to blurt out.  She turned to Webb and said, “I don’t know what to say; that was so kind of you...”

“It was nothing.  I travel a lot; they know me,” Webb passed it off lightly.  He heard the dog start whining, again.  “Dog?” he asked pointing to the kennel.

“Yes,” she said as she picked up the kennel, her carry-on bag, and her purse.

“Can I help you with any of that?” Webb offered.

“No, thank you.  You’ve already helped me enormously.  I can get all this; I don’t want to keep you from your flight,” she said.

“Actually, we’re on the same flight.  Same row...you’re 2A.  I’m 2B.  Clayton Webb,” he introduced himself, extending his hand in greeting.

“Shelley Dwyer.”  She looked at his proffered hand, and lifted both her arms to show him they were full and she couldn’t shake his hand.  Webb simply reached out and took her carry-on bag from her hand.  “No, really, I can...”

“Nice to meet you, Shelley.  Come.  Let’s head out to the concourse,” Webb said lightly, not relinquishing her bag.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
0800 EDT 
Dulles International Airport 
Washington, DC

“Here we are,” Webb said as he reached for the door to the Red Carpet Club.

“Oh, but I’m not a member; I can’t go in there,” Shelley said.

“I am, and you’re with me,” Webb replied smoothly as he held the door for her.

Shelley smiled brightly at him as she entered the luxurious room.  ‘How did I luck out getting a travel companion like him?’ she wondered.  ‘Please, God, don’t let this be a dream! I wonder who he is?’

Webb headed for an unoccupied section of the room, and set Shelley’s carry-on bag and his briefcase on the floor by an empty chair.  “Something to eat or drink?” he asked her as she was setting the kennel on the floor by her bag.

“No, thanks.  I never buy anything at an airport; it’s always way overpriced,” she said.

Webb smiled.  “There’s no charge in here.  What would you like?  They have coffee, tea, juice, milk, danish, donuts, croissants...”

“Oh.  Well, a cup of tea would be nice and maybe a donut?”

“Okay,” Webb said as he headed for the refreshment table.  “Shelley, do you want any sweetener in your tea?” he called to her.

“Two sugars, please.”

“Two sugars,” Webb mumbled as he dropped the sugar cubes into the mug of steaming liquid.  “Glazed, powdered, jelly, or chocolate? he asked.

“Chocolate!” she said happily.

“Ah, another chocoholic, eh?” Webb joked.

“You, too?” she asked as he handed her the mug and donut.

“Not me.  A friend of mine; you look a lot like her.  Tall, dark hair, olive complexion, radiant smile. Give her something chocolate, and she’ll do just about anything you ask,” he laughed, heading back to the table to get his coffee and danish.

“I hope you don’t take advantage of that!” she joked back.

“Me?  Take advantage of Mac? Any chance I get!”  They both laughed at this.  Webb came back and sat down next to Shelley.  “So, tell me about your dog.  What kind is she?”

“Actually, there are two of them in here,” Shelley answered, sticking her fingers through the wire door, again.  Ginger immediately came to the door and began licking her fingers.

“Two?  No way!  That kennel isn’t big enough for one dog, let alone two of them.”

Shelley chuckled.  That was the response she got from most people about her precious babies.  “They are both tiny toy poodles.  Cooper is 6 years old and weighs a whopping 5 pounds.  Ginger is 3-1/2 years old, and she weighs 4 pounds.”

“Four and five pounds?  God, both of them put together is smaller than the average housecat,” Webb commented.  “And do they like to travel?”

“Cooper does.  He’s game for just about anything.  Ginger is my skittish one.  But she’s fine as long as Cooper is in the kennel with her and she can see me...or at least hear my voice.”

“Spoiled?”

“Totally.  In fact, my Vet tells me that he’s never seen a worse case of ‘rotten-itis’ in all his years,” she laughed as she finished her donut.  “I wish I could take them out and hold them for just a minute before we get on the plane,” she sighed.

“Go ahead,” Webb urged her.  “No one in here will care.”

Shelley opened the kennel door and both dogs immediately came out and begged to be held.  She reached down and picked them up, cuddling and kissing them.  “How are my babies?  Hey, sweet things...oh, precious.  Mommy loves you.”

“They really are like children, aren’t they?” Webb noticed.

“Yes, they are.  I never had any children.  Cooper and Ginger are my kids,” she explained.  Ginger was very content to stay in Shelley’s arms, but Cooper wanted to investigate.  He climbed over the arm of the chair and landed in Webb’s lap. 

“Well, hello, Cooper,” Webb said, petting the little dog.  “Friendly little guy, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes.  Cooper’s never met a stranger.  He loves everyone.  Ginger, now...she’s a different story.”

Webb ‘s cell phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call.  “Webb!” he answered, still stroking Cooper’s head.  “Hello, Mac.  ... No, you’re not disturbing me; I’m at the airport, waiting for my flight.  What’s up? ... San Francisco. ... No, just for the day.  Taking the redeye back tonight. ...  That’s great, Mac. Have a good time. ... Mac, he won’t pressure you; he loves you. ... Sure, no problem, Mac.  I’ll take care of it. ... Mac, it’s not a problem. You just have a good time. ... Okay.  Bye.”

Webb dialed a number.  “Rabb, it’s Webb.  I hear you’ve got a date with Mac tomorrow night. ... Never mind how I know; I know everything.  Just thought I’d give you a piece of advice. ... Advice, Rabb! ... Don’t push her; she’s not ready.  You’ve got to give her time to get past Mic. ... No, Harm, you don’t know.  Mac needs time.  Give it to her, or you’ll lose her.”  Clayton looked at his watch and realized their flight would be boarding very soon.  “Harm, I’ve got to go.  One more thing, though.  Pink roses.  Don’t send red.  She’s not ready for red, again. ... Pink roses mean friendship and admiration, gratitude and appreciation. ... I know you love her, Harm.  And she loves you.  But she isn’t ready.  Give her the time she needs.  Hell, you’ve waited for 5 years to tell her; wait a little longer.  It won’t kill you.  Have to run.” 

Webb pressed the Off button on his cell phone.  He stuck it in his pocket, and said to Shelley, “We should go on to the gate; they’ll be boarding any time now.” 

She put Ginger back in the kennel, and Webb set Cooper on the floor.  “In your kennel, Cooper,” she said gently, and he immediately obeyed.  Shelley closed and latched the kennel door.

Webb picked up his briefcase and her carry-on bag; she picked up the kennel and her purse.  “Sure you don’t want me to carry them?”

“No, thanks; I have them,” she answered as they headed out the door.  “Where’s our gate?”

“Right over there,” Webb pointed just up the corridor.  “Pretty convenient, hmm?”

“Very,” she replied as they heard the loudspeaker announce their flight.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’d like to begin boarding United’s flight 837, with non-stop service to San Francisco, out of Gate D-20.  At this time, we’d like to board those of you traveling with small children or those who need extra time or assistance in boarding.  First Class passengers may board at your leisure.”

“That’s us,” said Webb as they made their way to the gate door.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
0850 EDT 
United Airlines Flight #837 
Dulles Airport, Washington, DC

Webb and Shelley settled into the seats, and Shelley positioned the small kennel under the seat in front of her so the dogs could look out and see her. “All settled?” Webb asked her. 

“Yes, I think they’ll be fine,” Shelley answered.

“Mr. Webb, it’s good to see you, again, Sir,” said the flight attendant. “May I get you something to drink while we board?”

Webb turned to Shelley, “You want anything?”

“Not now, no, thank you,” Shelley said looking up at the flight attendant.

“Nothing for me now either. Thanks, Belinda.” The flight attendant smiled and went to the next row. “So how long are you going to be in San Francisco?”

“Just the weekend. I have a meeting this afternoon, and I decided to stay over for a couple of days.”

“Visiting friends? Family?” he queried.

“No, just seeing the sights. I lived outside of San Francisco for a couple of years as a child. I’ll probably drive over that way and try to find my old house. I want to go to Fisherman’s Wharf, and, well, you know...the tourist-y things.”

“What about the dogs? Where will you leave them?” he asked.

“Leave them? Oh, no...they go with me,” she answered.

“But isn’t that kennel awfully small for both of them to be in for such a long time? I mean for a flight, I can see it, but...” Webb started.

“I have a larger kennel, too. It’s too big to bring inside a plane cabin, but it’s still a small kennel. I checked that one. It fits nicely in the seat of a car and... Oh!” she exclaimed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Webb asked as he looked around, trying to see what had startled Shelley.

“The other kennel! I never checked it! Everything was so confused at the ticket counter that I never brought the kennel forward. All they checked was my suitcase! Oh, lovely. Now I’ll have to buy another one when I get...”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted her. Webb reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and waited. “Clayton Webb calling. Give me the ticket counter at Dulles; I want the supervisor.” He waited for a minute, smiling at Shelley. Then he heard a voice.

“Mr. Webb, Jackson Davis, here. Is there a problem, Sir? Did you make your flight all right?”

“Yes, Davis, Mrs. Dwyer and I are aboard. One thing, though. In all the confusion at the ticket counter, Mrs. Dwyer forget to give you her larger kennel to check through with her baggage.”

“Yes, Sir, we already have it tucked away in unclaimed baggage. When she...”

“Get it checked on this plane, Davis. We don’t leave for another 15 minutes, plenty of time.”

“Of course, Mr. Webb. I’ll see that it’s on the plane,” Davis backtracked.

“Good,” Webb said as he pressed the Off button. He turned to Shelley. “All set. It’ll be at baggage claim in San Francisco.” Shelley stared at Webb. He began to feel a little uncomfortable. “What?” he asked.

“Who are you?” she finally asked. “Some big-whig of United?”

Webb laughed. “Hardly. No, I work for the government, actually.”

“Ah ha! You’re with the FAA! No wonder they treat you so well,” she suggested.

“FAA? Not me. I’m with the State Department,” Clayton offered.

“The State Department?

“Yes, actually, I’m the Assistant to the Undersecretary of State.”

“So, you’re a spy!” she laughed. 

Webb was amazed. ‘How could she possibly know that?’ he wondered. ‘Oh, God. Who is this woman, and how the hell does she know who I am? Damn, she was a clever plant!’ His outward demeanor, though, never changed. He laughed right along with her. “Shh! No one’s supposed to know!” he joked with her. “What gave me away?”

“Didn’t you know? Everyone who says they work for the State Department is really a spy. At least, that’s the way it always happens in books and movies,” she explained. “Except in an old TV show, Scarecrow and Mrs. King. In that one, he was supposedly a film director for a documentary film company,” she remembered. “I loved that show.”

“Don’t remember it. But then, I don’t get to watch much TV. Being a spy, I’m on the go a lot.”

Shelley was laughing so hard, tears were forming in her eyes and began leaking from her eyes. “Oh, stop! My sides hurt, I’m laughing so hard!” she said as she wiped the tears from her face.

Webb reached back in his pocket and pulled out his phone, again. Punching in another number, he said, “Excuse me. I forgot to let my mother know I was going out of town... Mother? Yes, it’s Clayton. I forgot to call you last night to let you know I’m going out to San Francisco today.”

“What information do you need, Mr. Webb?” asked his secretary.

“No, Mother, I’m only expecting to stay for the day, taking the redeye back tonight. But, I’m toying with the idea of staying for the weekend. I have a lovely traveling companion today.”

“Name?”

“Shelley Dwyer, Mother. She’s got two adorable little dogs with her; you’d love them. Tiny toy poodles. Only 4 and 5 pounds. They’re both in the smallest kennel I’ve ever seen.”

“Very good, Mr. Webb. I’ll run a check on her and get back with you.”

“Well, she has a larger kennel that we got checked through at the last second,” Webb winked at Shelley, and she smiled.

“I’ll take care of it, Sir.”

“Of course, Mother. Yes, I’ll call you when I get home. Goodbye, Mother.” Webb pressed the Off button, twice, turning off the phone, as the flight attendant announced they were ready for take off. He returned the phone to his pocket and turned to Shelley.

“I saw them carry the kennel out to the plane while you were on the phone. I can’t believe they did that just because you asked them to. Are you sure you’re not the President of United Airlines or something?” she asked, almost shyly.

“Positive. He doesn’t fly commercial. He only flies in his corporate jet.”

“Ah, right,” she agreed. “So, how’s your mother?”

“Mother is fine. Mother is always fine,” he said with a smile.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1000 EDT 
United Airlines Flight #837 
EnRoute to San Francisco, CA

“Excuse me, Mr. Webb. There’s an urgent call for you,” the flight attendant said as she motioned him to come with her.

“Thanks, Belinda. Sorry, Shelley,” he said as he got up and followed Belinda to the galley.

“You can take it on this phone, Mr. Webb,” Belinda told him as she handed him a receiver.

“Webb!” he barked into the phone.

“Mr. Webb, this is Alice. I have the information you wanted, Sir,” her secretary said.

“Already? That was fast,” Webb commented.

“That’s because she isn’t anyone, Sir. Mrs. Shelley Dwyer, 36, widowed for 8 years, husband died in a motorcycle accident. No children. She has two Toy Poodles, Cooper and Ginger, and also a bird...a yellow Canary named Frankie. She’s lived in the same 2-bedroom house on Oak Ridge Avenue in McLean for the last 7 years. She works at the IBM Intellectual Property Law Department on Jefferson Davis Highway in Arlington. She’s been there for 7 years. Prior to that, she lived in Tucson, Arizona, in an apartment, and worked at the IBM branch office. Her parents are both deceased; she has a brother, who lives in Richmond. He works at the Pentagon and has full security clearance. Shall I go on, Sir?”

“No, I think that’ll do it, Alice. Thanks. Oh, and Alice?”

“Yes, Mr. Webb?”

“Call my mother and let her know I called her from the plane...and have a traveling companion named Shelley Dwyer with two...”

“Understood, Sir,” Alice interrupted. “And that you’ll call her when you get home?” she hinted.

“Actually, I’ll probably be calling her to cancel our plans for Sunday. I’m probably going to stay in San Francisco for the weekend,” Webb said.

“Good for you, Sir!” Alice smiled. She was glad her boss was going to enjoy a nice woman’s company for a change. Everything she’d learned about Shelley Dwyer was good. “Have a wonderful weekend, Mr. Webb.”

“Thanks, Alice. You, too. Bye,” Webb said as he hung up the phone. He headed back to the First Class section and took his seat next to Shelley.

“Everything okay, I hope?” she asked, genuine concern filling her voice.

“Yes, just my office. I handled it,” Webb said offhandedly.

“Clayton, would you mind terribly keeping the dogs occupied while I run to the lavatory? I’m afraid that when they can’t see me, they’ll start crying...and then people get upset. I shouldn’t have had the tea back at the terminal, I guess...”

“No, of course I don’t mind. You go ahead.” Shelley got up and eased out from her seat next to Webb. Webb raised the armrest between the two seats and leaned over until he was almost prone. He looked under the seat and saw two little faces peering at him through the wire door. Ginger whined, so Webb put his hand down to the door and stuck his fingers through the grate, just as he’d seen Shelley do many times in the last two hours. Both dogs immediately began licking his fingers. “Hi there, Cooper. Hello, Ginger. How’re you doing in there? It’s going to be a long trip; I hope you’re comfortable.” Ginger whined, again. “It’s okay, Ginger. Your mommy will be right back,” he soothed. 

Webb was still lying across the seats with his fingers through the grate and talking to her dogs when Shelley returned. “Oh, were they crying?” she asked. “I’m so sorry,” she started to apologize.

“No, they were just fine,” Webb said as he sat back up in his seat and let Shelley sit down in hers. “I just leaned over so I could see them and they could see my face. They don’t know my legs yet, like they know yours,” he joked.  ‘God, I’d like to know yours...especially so, between them,’ Webb’s thoughts ran wild.  “But they were fine. No trouble at all.”

Shelley noticed that he said “yet”. And he’d told his mother that he was “toying with the idea of staying for the weekend”. ‘Hmm, I wonder if he’s thinking in terms of... No, I suppose not.’ She rejected the idea even before it completely formed in her mind.

“So, tell me about Shelley Dwyer,” Webb requested. “Who is she? What does she like?” he probed.

“Eww, I don’t like talking about myself. Let’s talk about you, instead. You’re obviously a lot more important than I,” she suggested.

“No can do. Spies can’t talk about themselves, remember?” he joked, and Shelley laughed, again.

“Oh, Clayton, you are a card!” she said. 

‘A card? God, Mother would love this woman! She speaks her language and everything,’ Webb thought. “Where did you come up with an expression like that?” he asked her.

“Like what?” Shelley asked.

“A card.”

“Oh, that’s something my mother used to always say. When someone was always being funny, she’d call them ‘a card’. I guess it is a rather out-dated expression, but it’s one I’ve used all my life because of hearing Mama say it,” she explained defensively.

“I know. My mother uses the same expression. I’m not used to hearing a young woman say it, though. But it sounds right, coming from you,” he added.

Webb and Shelley talked for the entire four hours that remained of their flight.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1155 PDT 
San Francisco International Airport 
San Francisco, CA

Webb and Shelley disembarked the plane and walked the full length of the F Concourse in the North Terminal. As they reached United’s Red Carpet Club, Webb suggested they go inside for a few minutes until the baggage was unloaded. “It’s nicer to wait in here than stand around down there in baggage claim,” he said.

“But, Clayton, you didn’t check any bags. You don’t need to wait. Go on; you’ll be late for your meeting. I have to stop at the rest room, and I need to take the dogs outside for a few minutes, so I’ll do that while I’m waiting for my bag.”

“They’ll wait for me. And I’m not leaving until I know that you have your bag and the other kennel,” Webb informed her as he opened the door to the Club. He motioned her inside. “Rest rooms are a lot nicer in here. Hungry?” he asked.

“Not in the slightest. They really feed you well in First Class! I had no idea...” 

“Was that your first time in First Class?” he asked. When she nodded, he added, “Really? Your first time? Wow. That’s all I ever fly anymore. Can’t handle Coach,” he said shaking his head.

After they set everything down by some empty chairs in the Club, Shelley said, “Do you mind watching...”

“Don’t mind a bit. Go ahead,” he interrupted.

While Shelley was in the rest room, Ginger started whining. Webb reached down and opened the door for the dogs to come out. Cooper came out immediately, and Ginger began to follow him. But when she didn’t see or hear Shelley, the little dog backed up and crouched in the far back corner of the kennel. Cooper was delighted to have his new friend all to himself, but Webb felt badly for little Ginger. He didn’t want to force her to come out. “I wonder if I can bribe her?” he thought aloud. He walked over to the food table with Cooper trailing behind him. “Ham? No, that’s probably not the best...roast beef? Shrimp? ...”

When Webb said “shrimp”, Cooper barked and Ginger came flying out of the kennel. They both stood on their hind legs bouncing up and down, begging. Webb picked up one boiled shrimp, pulled the tail off, broke it in two, and handed each dog a piece.

Shelley chose that moment to appear. “What are you feeding them?” she asked.

‘Uh oh,’ he thought. “Shrimp! They love it.” Webb smiled his crooked smile and winked at her. He really hoped that he hadn’t crossed the line by letting the dogs out of their kennel without her permission. And then feeding them. ‘That was probably not the best move, Webb.’

“Oh, good. I was afraid you’d given them beef or some other meat. Ginger doesn’t digest people food well at all; it usually comes right back up, especially when she’s traveling. But they do love shrimp, and it doesn’t seem to bother Ginger’s tummy.”

“How much can they have?”

“One shrimp, each, is their limit. I usually break them in half so they think they’re getting more,” she explained. Webb picked up another shrimp. He pulled the tail off, broke it in two like before, and handed each dog a piece. “That’s all. No more,” Shelley said to the dogs. “No more,” she repeated. She turned to Webb. “I’d better get them outside. Ginger has a pretty weak bladder.” She walked over to the kennel and called the dogs. They immediately climbed in, and Shelley shut the door and latched it. They headed for baggage claim and an outside door.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1245 PDT 
San Francisco International Airport 
San Francisco, CA

Webb walked up to the Express counter at the car rental agency. “You have a car for Shelley Dwyer and one for Clayton Webb, I believe,” he directed his words to both agents behind the counter. Shelley was standing just behind him with her luggage.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Webb. We have your car ready for you.  A BMW convertible, as usual.  Just sign right here, please,” requested the clerk as she handed him a clipboard and his rental agreement folder. “The car is in space #12 today, Sir.” 

The other agent returned to him with a puzzled expression. “Did you say ‘Shelley Dwyer’, Mr. Webb?” Webb and Shelley both nodded. “I don’t have a reservation for anyone named Dwyer, I’m sorry.”

“Not again,” Shelley mumbled.

“You have a car available?” asked Webb.

“Of course, we...”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked.

“None, Sir. I’ll get this written up right away.”

“Thanks, again, Clayton,” Shelley said as she signed her name to the contract and they headed outside. They reached their vehicles and Webb opened the trunk of her car, putting her suitcase in the back. Shelley let the dogs out for a minute and then put them in the larger kennel. She handed Webb the small kennel to put in the trunk. “I still can’t believe you got them to put this kennel on the plane,” she sighed.

Webb ignored that. “Shelley, I really do have to get to my meeting. And you probably do, too, at that. I would like to see you, again, though. What about dinner? Do you have plans yet?”

“No, I don’t. My meeting is from 2:30 until 5:00. Then I have to check in to my hotel. And at this rate, I probably don’t have a room reserved either. Or a return flight on Sunday night. Oh, God. I didn’t even think of that until just now!” she cried.

“What hotel?”

“The Shannon Court on Geery Street.”

Webb frowned. “Okay, you go on to your meeting,” Webb said as he pulled a business card from his pocket. “Call me when you’re finished, and I’ll let you know where you’re staying. And we’ll decide where I pick you up for dinner.”

“Clayton, I can’t keep asking you to...”

“I don’t recall that you’ve asked me for anything. Except to watch the dogs a couple of times. This is something I want to do, Shelley. Believe me, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “You know how to get where you’re going?” he asked. 

“I have a map and directions. I’ll be fine. I’m very good at reading maps.”

“Okay. Then I’ll talk to you later,” he said as she settled in her car.

“Bye!” she called to him as she drove off. Webb climbed in his car and headed for his meeting.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1715 PDT
IBM Branch Office 
San Francisco, CA

“Thanks so much for coming all the way out here, Shelley. I know this was an unusual request, and we really appreciate the lawyers allowing you to make the trip,” the Branch Manager said.

“I was glad to do it, Greg. And it’s nice to finally meet you and your team, too. We’ve worked on this deal for you all for close to a year now; it’s nice to have faces to put with all the names. Greg, I need to use a phone. Where would be the best place?”

“My secretary is probably about ready to leave. You can use her desk, or if you need some privacy, I’ll open one of the offices for you. Your call.”

“Oh, no. Your secretary’s desk will be just fine. I just have to check on my hotel. Thanks.” As they rounded the corner and the dogs heard Shelley’s voice, they started whining. “Uh oh. They hear me,” she commented. Shelley bent down and stuck her fingers through the grate. “Mommy’s back, babies.” Then she addressed Greg’s secretary. “Grace, thanks so much for watching the dogs for me. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, no problem. We had fun. I took them out back and we played in the grass for a while. It was a nice break, believe me! Well, I’m outta here. Good night, all!”

“Good night, Grace,” Shelley said. 

“ ‘Night, Gracie!” Greg called from his office.

Shelley sat down at Grace’s desk and dialed Webb’s number. 

“Webb!” he barked into the phone.

“Clayton? This is Shelley Dwyer.”

“Hang on just a minute,” Webb said. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to take this call. I’ll be right back.” Webb left the conference room and stood by the staircase. “Shelley, hi!”

“This is a bad time, isn’t it? Should I call back?”

“No, no, this is fine. Okay, here’s the deal. We have rooms at the Park Hyatt Resort on Battery Street. It’s a...”

“Resort? Oh, Clayton, I can’t stay at a resort. They never allow pets.”

“I told them about the dogs, and they’re fine with it. The hotel is just a few blocks up from The Embarcadero. 333 Battery. Think you can find it?”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll find it.  But you said ‘we’.  I thought you were taking the redeye home tonight?”

“Changed my mind.  Now about dinner. My meeting is running long. I probably won’t be out of here until 7:00, so how about I pick you up at 8:00?”

“Clayton, are you sure...”

“I’m sure, Shelley. Unless you’d rather not see me, again.”

“No! I’d love to see you, Clayton. ‘God, I’d love to see all of you...every inch of you!’  “Thank you for asking ...and for everything else you’ve done for me today.”

“My pleasure. I’ll see you at 8. Oh, informal dress...not casual. That okay?”

“Fine. I’ll see you later. Bye.” They hung up, and Webb called the hotel. “Clayton Webb. I need the Concierge, please.”

The Concierge answered. “Mr. Webb! I have everything just the way you wanted it.  Lavender roses, champagne, even the little space on the balcony for the dogs.”

“Good, good,” Webb responded. “David, I’m expecting a delivery from...”

“Ah, yes, Sir. You received a delivery from William Rossiter’s just half an hour ago. I have Joseph hanging everything up for you now, and he’s steaming out any wrinkles.”

“Good, thanks. I’m going to be a little later than I anticipated getting in, so call and change the dinner reservation to 8:30. The limo will still be available, I trust?”

“Of course, Mr. Webb.”

“Sounds like you have everything under control. Oh, one more thing. I’ll need a suitcase to take everything home in. Thanks a lot, David.”

“I’ll see to it, Sir.”

Webb hung up and returned to his meeting. This was going to be a fine weekend. Fine, indeed.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1740 PDT 
Park Hyatt Resort Hotel 
San Francisco, CA

Shelley walked up to the Registration Desk in the hotel lobby.  A young woman looked up at her.  “May I help you?”

“Yes, I have a reservation...”

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” the clerk said, eyeing the kennel.  “We don’t allow pets at the Park Hyatt.  You’ll have to...”

“No, of course not,” Shelley said, picking up the kennel and turned to leave.  ‘Damn!  Now what do I do?  Well I guess I could call Clayton back, again.  Or I could just find my own hotel room.  God, I just don’t believe this; nothing has gone right on this trip...except that I did meet a very handsome, congenial man...whom I still know absolutely nothing about.’

Shelley went to the porter’s stand and asked that they take her suitcase and kennel back outside.  The porter was startled at her request, but Shelley didn’t notice.  She had already turned and was walking out the door. 

The porter picked up the phone and called the Concierge desk.  “Hey, Dave, didn’t you say that Mr. Webb’s guest would have a large red suitcase and a dog kennel?”

“That’s right.  Is she here?”

“Name of Dwyer?” the porter asked further as he checked the luggage tag.

“Yes, that’s her.  Where is she?  I’ll check her through.”

“She’s leaving.”

“What!?  What do you mean she’s leaving?  Where is she?”

“Gone back outside to get her car, I guess.  She told me to take her baggage back out to the curb,” the porter explained.

“Damnation!” exclaimed the Concierge as he hung up the phone and almost ran to the front entry.  He looked around until he saw a woman carrying a dog kennel. 

“Yes, I know I just arrived, but I’m leaving now.  Please bring my car back around,” Shelley said to the valet parking attendant.

“Excuse me, would you be Mrs. Dwyer?” the Concierge asked.

“Yes, I am,” she answered, turning to face the person addressing her.

“My name is David, and I’m the Concierge here at the hotel.  Is there a problem, Ma’am?  The porter said you were leaving us, and you only just arrived.”

“I have my two dogs with me, David, and the hotel doesn’t allow pets.  I’ll just find a room at a motel somewhere; it’s not...”

“Mrs. Dwyer, you are a very special guest to this hotel.  And for our very special guests, we make exceptions to the rules.  Your dogs are very welcome here.  Please, let me show you to your room.”  David extended his arm to take the kennel from her. 

“No, thank you.  I always carry them myself.  Are you sure you have the right person?  I’ve never even stayed in this hotel before.  Why would I be a special guest?” she asked as she followed him back to the door.

David held the door for Shelley to enter.  “Ah, you have not stayed here before, but Mr. Webb has.  And he made the arrangements, personally.  You are, indeed, a very special guest to us, Ma’am.”

Shelley followed David to the Registration Desk.  The same young woman was there; she looked at David and then at Shelley and frowned.  “David, we don’t allow pets,” she said firmly.

“Miranda, this is Mrs. Dwyer.  She is Mr. Webb’s guest.  Give me the cardkey for her room, please.”

“Mr. Webb’s guest?  Oh my God, why didn’t she say so?” Miranda whispered.  “Damn, probably because I didn’t give her the chance,” she mumbled to herself as she turned and got the cardkey. 

As Shelley and David exited the elevator on the top floor, Shelley said, “David, there must be some mistake.  My room wouldn’t be on the top floor.”

“No mistake, Ma’am.  This is the Penthouse Suite.”  David took his Penthouse cardkey and opened the door to the suite.  He strode through the living room and up two steps, through the dining room, and stopped at another locked door.  Taking the magnetic cardkey Miranda had given him, he unlocked the door and opened it revealing a luxurious bedroom.  He motioned for Shelley to precede him.  What she saw amazed her.

There was a king-size canopy waterbed set in the middle of a raised platform in the center of the room.  There was a huge floral sofa on the back wall with side chairs and a table to complement.  The furnishings in this room alone probably cost more than everything she had in her entire house!  She noticed that the left wall of the room was all glass doors leading out to a large balcony.  The right wall was all mirrored doors that proved to be closet space and the entrance to an enormous bathroom.  And there was an enormous arrangement of lavender roses.  ‘There must be 3 dozen roses in that vase!’ Shelley thought.  ‘Hmm, I wonder what lavender roses signify?’

“I’d like to see the rest of the suite, please,” Shelley requested.  She couldn’t quite believe that Webb would just assume she would sleep with him.  But, he had done so much for her today; maybe he did assume she would “repay him” with sexual favors.  But he just didn’t strike her that way...to just assume she would share his bed.

“Of course, Mrs. Dwyer.  Shall we start with the balcony?” David asked as he opened one of the glass doors and walked outside.  Shelley followed him.  “The balcony overlooks the resort’s garden.  It is a lovely view, especially at night.  The hot tub to your right was freshly filled this afternoon for your use.  This area over to the left is for your dogs, Ma’am.  Mr. Webb requested a small area for them out here so you wouldn’t have to go downstairs to take them out after dark,” David explained.

“That was kind of him.  And you to provide it,” she added.

“It is always our pleasure to serve Mr. Webb, Ma’am.”  David steered Shelley back inside and he shut the glass door.  He motioned for her to go back into the main part of the suite.  “This, of course is the dining room.”  Shelley noticed a large basket of fresh fruit, along with a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries sitting on the table.  There was also a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, along with two flutes.

David pushed open a swinging door to show Shelley the butler’s pantry.  “Should you decide to eat a meal in the room, Joseph, your butler, will serve you from here.”

David continued the tour, “As you see, this is the living room.  There is a projection screen for your viewing pleasure, along with a DVD, CD, and VCR player.  There is also a balcony; it is much larger than the one off of your room,” David said as he swung the large glass doors open.  There was a large, round, glass-top table and six chairs surrounding it, as well as several side chairs, lounge chairs, and lush ferns in hanging baskets.

So far, Shelley wasn’t liking this.  She had still seen only one bedroom.  And she was quite sure that the sofa in the living room did not make into a bed. 

“And here we are back to the entry,” David finished.

“What’s behind that door?” Shelley asked, nodding to the only door David hadn’t opened.

“That would be Mr. Webb’s bedroom, Ma’am.  Did you want to see that as well?”

Shelley smiled.  “No, that won’t be necessary.  Thank you, David.”

He handed her the cardkey to her room.  “This is for your bedroom, Ma’am.  Mr. Webb’s room takes a different key.  The code for the Penthouse door during your visit with us is 0-0-7.”  Shelley tried not to laugh.  “Everything is satisfactory then?”

“Completely,” she said reaching for her purse to get money for a tip.

“No, Ma’am.  Mr. Webb will take care of that.  Thank you and enjoy your stay with us.”

When David closed the door behind him, Shelley headed for the kennel and opened it.  The dogs flew out and jumped up on her legs wanting to be held.  She picked them both up and cuddled them, kissing them, and cooing to them.  Then she set them down and let them run through the suite sniffing and investigating their new surroundings.  Shelley was startled when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Dwyer?” a female voice asked.

“Yes, this is Mrs. Dwyer.”

“I am Gina, your maid.  Would you like me to come and unpack your belongings for you now?”

“Unpack my...  Um, no, that really won’t be necessary, Gina.  Thank you, though.”

“It is not a problem, Ma’am.  I am happy to do it.  I will steam the wrinkles out for you as well.”

“Well, actually, you could steam the dress I want to wear this evening,” Shelley thought out loud.

“Very good, Ma’am.  I will be right up,” Gina answered and hung up.

“My God, Clayton!  How much does this kind of a room cost?”
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
1930 PDT 
Park Hyatt Resort Hotel 
San Francisco, CA

Webb opened the door to the Penthouse Suite and was greeted by a very happy Cooper and Ginger.  They barked their greetings, which alerted Shelley that someone had just entered.  She hoped it was Webb, and was pleased when he called to her from the living room.  “Shelley?”

“Coming!”  Shelley walked out of her bedroom into the living area of the suite.

“Wow.  You look fabulous!” Webb complimented.  Shelley wore a bright blue sheath dress with spaghetti straps, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose French twist. 

“Thank you.  Is this appropriate for your plans tonight?” she asked hesitantly.

“Definitely; it’s lapis blue, and we’re dining at Lapis.  That dress is beautiful on you,” Webb said as he approached her.  ‘But I’d love to see how beautiful you are without it.’ He put his hands on her upper arms and leaned down to kiss her lightly.  When she didn’t back away, he moved his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

Cooper began barking fiercely at him, and he released her.  Shelley laughed.  “He’s very protective of me.  He doesn’t like it when a man hugs or kisses me.” 

“I guess not,” Webb commented.  He wondered just how many men Cooper had barked at in his lifetime.  “I guess I’d better go get dressed myself.  I certainly can’t take you out looking like I do with you dressed to kill.”

Shelley laughed as he headed for his room.  “So does your room look like mine?” she asked.

“You haven’t seen it?  I thought David would have given you the grand tour,” Webb said as he used his cardkey to unlock and open the door.

“He did.  All but your room, anyway.”

“Well, come in and look.  It’s nothing like your room,” Webb added.

He was right.  This room was very heavy and dark, where hers was very light and airy.  The appointments in this room probably cost double those in her room!  “Wow!” she exclaimed.  “Clayton, how much does this suite cost?”

He laughed.  “You don’t want to know, believe me.”

“I’m curious.  I really am.”

“It runs about 2 grand.”

“Two thousand dollars?!?  For the weekend?” she cried.

“No, per night,” Webb said as he opened his balcony doors and walked outside.

“Oh my God!  No wonder they let me have the dogs up here,” she said, following him.  “You have a hot tub out here, too?  I’ve never seen such luxury before...”

“Shelley, are you going to be uncomfortable here?  If you are, I can arrange for something else.  I should have asked you before I...”

“The accommodations are fine, Clayton.  I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised by them, but they’re fine.  Really.”  They went back inside.  ‘But I certainly am going to owe him big time for all this.  Of course, he’s probably already planned our late night activities...’

“Good.  I’m glad.  Now, if we’re going to make our 8:30 dinner reservation, I need to get changed.  You’re welcome to stay and watch,” he said suggestively, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.  When Shelley didn’t move, he laughed.  “Out you go, woman!” and he steered her toward the door.
 

Friday, 10 August 2001 
2235 PDT 
Lapis Restaurant, Pier 33 
San Francisco, CA

Webb held Shelley in his arms as they danced to the music, waiting for their dessert to be served.  ‘I’ve died and gone to Heaven,’ she thought.  Webb moved her around the dance floor with such ease, yet such precision.  ‘He’s the best dancer I’ve ever been with.  And God, how I want to be with him...really with him!’  She flushed.  Webb noticed.

“Are you getting warm?  You’re rather flushed all of a sudden,” he asked, concerned.

“No, I’m fine.  I just thought of something and rather embarrassed myself,” she admitted.  “I do that a lot.”  And they laughed. 

When they finished dessert, Webb suggested a moonlight stroll at Garden Gate Park.

“That would be lovely,” Shelley agreed.  They left the restaurant and found the limo waiting out front.  “Oh, I forgot we were in the hotel’s limo.  Perhaps we should just go back to the hotel and not keep the driver any longer,” she suggested.

“Golden Gate Park,” Webb instructed the driver as he helped Shelley climb in the back seat.

“Very good, Sir.”

“We won’t stay long, Shelley.  But I want you to see the view from the park.  It’s beautiful.”

“David mentioned that the view from our balcony is wonderful at night, too.  I’d like to try out that hot tub,” she whispered conspiratorially. 

“No reason we can’t see both views and use the hot tub,” Webb whispered back.  They settled back in the seat, and Webb put his arm lightly around Shelley’s shoulders.

“I feel badly leaving Cooper and Ginger for so long tonight after they were cooped up in their kennel all day.  And it’s late for them, too.  It’s after midnight at home, you know.”

“They’re not in their kennels.  They’re loose in the suite.”

“What?  Clayton, you didn’t open the kennel door!  Ginger’s bladder really isn’t strong enough to let her...”

“They’re not alone, Shelley.  Your maid is there with them.  She loves animals, and I’m sure she’s having the time of her life watching that projection TV and cuddling with your dogs.  She doesn’t often get paid to stay in the suite and do nothing but enjoy herself.  She was very happy to do it, believe me.”

“Clayton, you are truly amazing,” she murmured as he drew her closer to him and turned her face toward his.  He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her lightly.  As he began to lift his head, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him back.  This time the kiss wasn’t light, but hard...deep...demanding.

Webb shifted to lower Shelley to her back on the seat, never releasing her mouth.  He moved his hands so that one cupped her breast and the other ran up under her skirt.  Just as he was about to slide his hand under her panties, and just as she was about to stop his wandering hands, the intercom buzzed.

“Excuse me, Sir,” the driver’s voice sounded.  “We’re just pulling in to the Park.”
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
0100 PDT 
Park Hyatt Resort Hotel 
San Francisco, CA

Webb and Shelley walked through the hotel lobby and to the elevator.  When the doors closed, the elevator ‘boy’ pressed the top floor and looked straight ahead.  ‘Hmm, very well trained,’ Webb thought.  Webb took Shelley in his arms and kissed her soundly. 

As the elevator stopped and the doors opened, a voice brought them back to reality.  “Penthouse.”

Webb lifted his mouth from hers but kept one arm around her as they walked to their door.  Shelley watched as Webb punched in 0-0-7.  She started laughing.  “I can’t believe the code is 0-0-7,” she said.

“What’s wrong with that?” Webb asked.  “It’s just a code.  It changes every time a new guest is here.”

“Clayton, after our conversation on the plane this morning about your being a spy?  Don’t you think it’s rather comical that the pass code is ‘Double-0-7’?”  Webb caught on then, and they both laughed as he opened the door.

“That hadn’t even occurred to me!” he said as both dogs came running to greet them.

“Gina, thank you so much for staying with my dogs.  Did they give you any trouble?” Shelley asked.

“No trouble at all, Ma’am.  We sat and watched a movie and then we took a nap on the sofa!  They’ve been outside three times, and they finally decided that they like their little area out there,” Gina replied as she stood and headed for the door.  “Good night.”

“Good night, Gina.  Thanks, again.”  Shelley turned around and found herself wrapped instantly in Webb’s arms.  “Mmm, I like this,” she murmured.

“Do you?” he asked intently.

“Want to get in the hot tub?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Together?  Or did you want to be in yours alone and me in mine alone?”  He said it jokingly, but it was obvious from his inflection that if she wanted it that way, he would honor her wishes.

“Yes, Clayton.  Together.  No point in heating both tubs, is there?”  She headed for her bedroom.  “I’m going to go ahead and get in.  You come on in when you’re ready.  I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay,” Webb answered, heading to his room.  ‘Good thing I told them to include a pair of swim trunks this afternoon!’

Webb changed quickly, and headed back to Shelley’s room.  On the way, he stopped and picked up the bottle of champagne and the two flutes.  When he knocked on her door, even though it was standing open.  No answer.  ‘She must already be outside in the tub.’ Webb walked through her room and found her ensconced happily in the hot tub, the water up to her neck.  “You look quite content,” he said as he opened the bottle and poured champagne into both glasses.  He handed her one, set the bottle close to the tub, picked up his flute, and started to climb in the hot tub.

“Um, Clayton, I forgot to pack a bathing suit, so I...”

“That’s okay.  I’ve seen women in their underwear before...even wet,” he chuckled but stopped and didn’t get in the tub.

“Damn!  I didn’t even think of that,” she muttered.

“You didn’t think of what?” he asked.

“Wearing my underwear.”

“You didn’t think...then what do you have on...” Webb looked at her and his eyes grew dark with desire.  ‘They aren’t the only things growing with desire,’ he thought.

She smiled.  “Oops,” she said.

“Do you want me to go get in the other hot tub?”

“No!  There’s no reason we can’t both be in this one.  You’ll just have to...”

“Stay on my side of the tub,” he finished for her.

“Exactly.”

“That’s asking a lot, Shelley.”

“Is it?” 

Webb nodded.

“Is it asking too much?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” he said as he stepped in the tub and ducked down in the hot, bubbling water up to his neck.  Then he came up and sat; the water just covering his nipples.  He looked over at Shelley.  ‘God, she’s so beautiful.  This is gonna be murder.’

They sat in the water for about 10 minutes, not saying a word, just enjoying the hot, bubbling water and their champagne.  And both of them growing more and more restless.

“Clayton?” Shelley broke the silence.

“Mmm?” he murmured as he reached over and filled her glass, then his own.

“What do lavender roses signify?” she asked shyly.

“Enchantment,” he said.  Then he added so softly that she didn’t hear him, “And love at first sight.”

“Did you request that color?” she asked.

“Yes.  It was a hard choice between lavender and coral.  I finally went with the lavender.”

“What does the coral mean?” she asked.

“Desire,” he said huskily.

Shelley reached one of her legs out across the tub and, finding one of Webb’s legs, she rubbed her foot against it.  He reached down and grabbed her foot, lifting it to his mouth.  He kissed the tip of each of her toes.  Then he kissed the backs of her toes, the ball of her foot, her instep, her heel.  He lowered his mouth over her big toe and sucked.  He sucked hard.  Shelley could feel a tightness beginning in her belly.  When he lowered her foot back in the water, she wiggled her toes.  She felt the fabric of his swim trunks on his leg, so she let her toes dance a bit on it.  Only it wasn’t his leg.

“Shelley,” Webb’s voice was ragged.

“Mmm?” she purred as she realized what her toes her playing with.  She wiggled them more until she successfully worked her foot inside one leg opening.  Now she could really feel him.  She stroked him with her toes; she ran her big toe down his length; she wiggled her toes against his balls. 

“Shelley, either move your foot or be ready for me to...”  Shelley moved her foot immediately.  She was ready to play, but she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for intercourse.

Shelley decided in an instant what she was going to do next.  She reached down in the water and grasped one of Webb’s legs and brought his foot up to her mouth.  She kissed his toes and foot much the way he had done hers.  Then she sucked on his big toe.  She sucked.  She licked.  She kissed.  Then she laid it back in the water, directly at the juncture of her thighs.  Webb looked at her askance.  “Tit for tat,” she offered.  “It’s only fair.”  Webb wiggled his toes and Shelley jerked off her seat, exposing her breasts to Webb’s view for a fraction of a second. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

“No, just surprised me a little.  It felt good, actually.”  So Webb wiggled his toes, again.  This time Shelley didn’t jerk.  She leaned her head back and enjoyed it, moving with him so that his toes were doing a little bit of magic to her.  The more he moved his toes, the more pleasure Shelley had, and the more pleasure she had, the more she moaned...until finally she arched her back and shuddered.  “Ooooh!  Clayton!” she cried out as she rode out her orgasm with his toes still flicking across her most private area.

Finally, Webb lowered his foot, set his flute on the side of the tub, and slid over next to Shelley.  He encircled her in his arms and kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue.  He let his hands roam over her body, until one of them found its home under the water cupping her breast.  The other was wrapped tightly around her, and he drew circles on her back with his finger.

“Shelley?” he said hoarsely pulling away from her and moving his hand from her breast to her shoulder.

“Yes, Clayton?” she whispered.

“I’m going inside now.”

“Yes, Clayton, do.  I want you inside of me...”

“No, Shelley.  That’s not what I mean.  I’m going to my room.”  Shelley started to protest, but he cut her off.  “Don’t say anything.  Shelley, I don’t want you to feel that you owe me anything.  You don’t,” he said. 

“But I don’t feel...” she tried. 

“I think you do.  I think you’re only allowing this because you think you owe me for today.  I don’t want you that way, Shelley.  I don’t want you out of gratitude.  I want you to want me...for me,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her, again.  “The way I want you.” 

Webb released her and climbed out of the tub.  As he grabbed one of the towels that Gina had left by the tub earlier, Shelley spoke quietly.  “Clayton?  What time are you returning home tomorrow?” 

He turned to face her.  “I don’t have a flight plan yet.” 

“Would you stay?” 

“Stay?” 

“Stay for the weekend.  With me,” Shelley said as Cooper barked once.  She smiled.  “With us.” 

Webb looked over to Cooper and Ginger, then back to Shelley.  “I’d like nothing better.”  He picked up his champagne glass, filled it, and went inside. 
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
0700 PDT 
Park Hyatt Resort Hotel 
San Francisco, CA

Webb awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.  He opened his eyes and found Shelley sitting on the edge of his bed with two mugs in her hands.  “Good morning,” she said.  “Coffee?”

“Thank you,” Webb responded as he rolled over and swung his legs off the side of the bed, sitting up.

“Sleep well?” she asked. ‘He’s gorgeous!  Look at the chest!  I couldn’t really see it last night in the dark on the balcony.  Oh, Clayton, take me!  Take me now, ...please!’

“Very.  How long have you been up?”

“A couple of hours.  Ginger doesn’t know about Pacific time.  You do, though.  It’s 10:00 at home!”

“Yea, but I didn’t fall asleep until almost 4:00 Pacific time.”

“What were you doing all that time?” she asked.

“Tossing and turning, mostly,” he confessed.  “I heard you get up once with the dogs.”  They both drank from their mugs.  “I thought you didn’t like coffee.”

“Mine’s tea,” she smiled.

“Oh.  So, what do you want to do this weekend, Mrs. Dwyer?” Webb asked.  ‘I could tell you what I want to do to you...  Don’t go there, Webb!’

“I thought maybe we could try to find the house I used to live in,” she proposed.

“What town was it?”

“San Rafael.  It’s in Marin County, on the other side of the Golden Gate.”

“I know San Rafael.  Sure, we can do that.  What else?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  I thought maybe it would be fun to go see Alcatraz.”

“You sure about that?  Haven’t you seen the movie ‘The Rock’?” he joked.

“Sean Connery and Nicholas Cage?  You bet!”

“And you still want to go to the Rock?” Webb laughed.  “Okay, we can do that, too.  Anything else?”

“I wouldn’t mind taking a walk down Fisherman’s Wharf and maybe to Ghirardelli Square?  Other than that, I really don’t know.”  ‘Yes, you do know, Shelley Dwyer.  You know exactly what you want to do this weekend.  And it has nothing whatever to do with Alcatraz or Fisherman’s Wharf!  You want to lie naked in bed with this fabulous man and make mad, passionate love hour after hour after hour...’

“What about taking a ride up into Napa?” Webb asked.  “It’s a beautiful drive.”

“Oooo, I’ve always wanted to see the wine country.”

“Okay, then.  We’ll find your place in San Rafael on our way out to Napa today.  Then tomorrow we’ll hit Alcatraz, Fisherman’s Wharf, and Ghirardelli.”

“Sounds like a plan!” said Shelley.  ‘Oh, what about the babies?’ she worried.

“Why don’t you order us some breakfast while I get my shower?” he asked.

“Okay.”  Shelley left the room and picked up the phone in the living room.

“Good morning, Mr. Webb,” the voice on the other end said.

“Good morning; I’d like to order breakfast, please,” Shelley said.

“Of course, Mrs. Dwyer...please excuse me.  What would you like this morning?”

“Two omelets, please.  Make one sausage and cheese, and the other...oh,...”

“For Mr. Webb?” the voice asked.

“Yes.”

“He usually orders a seafood omelet, Ma’am.” 

“Mmm, that sounds good.  Okay, make it two seafood omelets.  I guess you know Clayton’s other breakfast preferences, so just include that.  And I’d like an English muffin with raspberry jelly, please.  Oh, and a tall glass of milk and a small one of orange juice.”

“Very good, Ma’am.  Joseph will serve you within 15 minutes, if that is acceptable?”

“Perfectly.  Thank you.”  Shelley hung up the phone and stuck her head in Webb’s room.  He wasn’t there, but she heard the water running in his bathroom.  She tiptoed in to the room and over to the bathroom; with any luck, his shower curtain would be just like the one in her bathroom:  clear.  “Breakfast in 15 minutes!” she called as she looked inside.  ‘Damn!’  The shower curtain was opaque.

“Okay!” he yelled back.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
0830 PDT 
US Highway 101 
San Rafael, CA

“None of this was here when I lived here before, Clayton.  It was all trees...woods!  It’s so built up now; I’ll never recognize it,” Shelley lamented.

“Shelley, you said it’s in San Rafael, and we’re just getting there.  Don’t give up yet,” Webb soothed.

They continued driving and saw another sign for San Rafael.  “Next FOUR exits?  Oh, Clayton, this is pointless.  I’ll never know which exit to take.”

Webb reached over and patted her hand, but didn’t let go.  They passed the first two exits.  Nothing looked at all familiar, so they kept driving.  They passed the third exit, and Shelley turned to Webb saying, “I lived in a little part of San Rafael called Terra Linda Valley.”  Webb smiled and pointed ahead of him.  Shelley turned back to look at the road and saw the last sign for San Rafael.  Written on the same sign was ‘Terra Linda Valley’. 

“I guess this would be the right exit, then,” Webb said.  He turned left at the end of the exit ramp, following the signs for Terra Linda.

Shelley saw a street sign, and read it, pronouncing the Spanish word correctly.  “Freitas Parkway.  Doesn’t ring a bell.  I don’t know, Clayton.”  They drove for a short distance, when Shelley yelled, “Scotty’s!”

“What?” Webb asked.

“Look!  There’s Scotty’s!  That was there when I lived here.  Yes!  Yes, we’re going the right way.  Scotty’s...and there was a little ice cream parlor behind there,” she pointed.  They came to another intersection.  “I think we turn left here.”  Webb obeyed.  “Oh!  Right!  Here...turn right!”  Webb turned.  “Yes, I remember Monticello Road.  And DeFord Drive is right off of it to the right.  Yes, look!  There it is!!”  Shelley was so excited.  Webb turned, again.  “Oh my God!  That’s it!  That’s my house!” she pointed as Webb pulled the car over and stopped.

“See?  You did find it,” he smiled at her.  Shelley climbed out of the car and looked at the house.  Webb got out and joined her, taking her hand in his.  “I’m glad.”

“Oh, Clayton.  And look,” she pointed to the house next door.  “That’s where one of my best friends lived.  And across from her was another one.  And just up the street on Fowler Court was the other one.  The four of us were inseparable!  We did everything together when I lived here.  Of course, I only lived here a couple of years, but I remember them so well.  And see that building that’s there?  It wasn’t then.  It was a field of poppies.  We rode our bikes up that hill and flew down.  I got more skinned knees on that hill...”

“Excuse me, can I help you find something?” an elderly man asked, walking up to them, admiring the convertible.

Shelley and Webb turned to the man, and Webb answered him.  “Thanks, no.  I think we found it.”

“I used to live here, years ago.  In that house,” she pointed.

“I don’t know about that, Ma’am,” the man said shaking his head.  My wife and I have lived in that house for over 25 years.”

“Oh, I lived there all right, in 1973 and 74.”

“Why, then you must be a Creighton!” the man exclaimed.

Shelley beamed.  “Yes, I am!  Shelley Creighton...well, Dwyer now.”

Webb looked at Shelley.  ‘Creighton?  Creighton?!  As in Douglas Creighton?  Oh my God!’  Webb knew her brother.  Knew him well.  And Douglas Creighton did not like Clayton Webb; no, not at all.

“The wife and I bought this place from your parents.  We’re only the second owners, you know.  Most of the time, people just think we’ve been here forever.  Would you like to take a look inside?” he offered.  “I know my wife would just love to see you.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Shelley asked.  He shook his head no.  “That would be wonderful, Mr. ...?”

“Sorry.  Name’s Albertson.  Charlie Albertson,” he extended his hand to Shelley and she shook it.  Then he reached it out to Webb.

“Clayton Webb,” he responded.

“Webb?  I thought you said Dwyer?” Charlie questioned.

Shelley laughed.  “Clayton isn’t my husband, Mr. Albertson.”  Shelley looked into the backseat, so she missed Charlie’s look of disapproval.  The dogs decided they’d been cooped up long enough, and if Mommy got to be outside, they should be, too.  They had started crying, and Shelley was trying to calm them down.  She reached over the side of the car and opened the kennel to take them out.  “Do you mind if I let them run around a bit on the grass?” she asked pleasantly.

“No.  Go ahead,” Charlie answered.

Shelley was busy with the dogs, so Webb seized the moment to talk to Charlie.  “Shelley’s husband died some time ago, Mr. Albertson.”  Charlie’s facial expression changed instantly to that of pity.  “They never had any children; the dogs are like her babies.”

“Shelley, my dear,” Charlie said.  “Why don’t we all go inside and have a nice glass of lemonade.  My wife dearly loves animals; you just bring them right along with you.”

As they walked through the house, Shelley pointed out all the changes they’d made.  They met Mrs. Albertson, had lemonade on the back porch by the pool, and the dogs ran around as if they owned the place.  After about an hour of visiting, Shelley stood up and said, “I think we’d better be going.  We’re driving up to Napa today.  I’ve never been before.”

“Beautiful country!  You’ll love it,” offered Charlie.

“Oh yes, it is lovely up there,” agreed his wife.

“Cooper!  Ginger!  Come!” she called and the dogs immediately came running to her.

“They are very well trained,” commented Charlie.

“Yes, they are,” agreed Webb.  “Amazingly well trained.”

Shelley just beamed.  She was very proud of her babies.  It wasn’t often that anyone found fault with them.  Well, except for Ginger’s pea-sized bladder.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
1130 PDT 
California Highway 37 
Sonoma County, CA

Webb and Shelley hadn’t said a word in about 30 minutes, but the tension in the air surrounding them with so thick, you could cut it with the proverbial knife.  Shelley couldn’t take it any more.  She reached her left hand across and laid it on Webb’s thigh.  He groaned very softly.  Shelley thrilled at the sound.  ‘He does want me!’

She moved her hand up his thigh and slid it between his legs at his groin.  She rubbed him along the zipper of his trousers.  She was surprised that he was already fairly large for wanting her.  She shifted in her seat and used her right hand to unzip his pants. 

“Shelley,” he breathed.  “Don’t...don’t start something you won’t finish.”  His voice has ragged; his breathing harsh.

“Oh, I’ll finish, Clayton.  I’ll definitely finish,” she said as she reached her hand inside his boxers and pulled him out.  She laid down across the seat and lowered her mouth to him, her right hand caressing his balls.  She ran her tongue up the length of his penis, circled the head, and started back down.  Half way down she stopped and nipped him.

“God!  Shelley!” he cried out.  “I’m trying to drive here!”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Webb?” she said with an evil grin on her face as she looked up at him from his lap. 

“Problem?  No...no problem...” he moaned as she began licking him like a lollypop.

“Mmm, you taste wonderful,” she purred.

“Do I now?”

“Mmm hmm,” she moaned as she began pumping him...pumping him hard.  When the first drop appeared at his slit, she licked it off with her tongue.  Then she lowered her head and took him fully into her mouth.  She bobbed her head up and down, up and down, on him until he began to thrust inside her mouth.  She knew this had to be a very dangerous way to drive; he couldn’t possibly be concentrating on the road.  But right now, at this very minute, she didn’t care about anything but making him come.  And he was close.  So very, very close.

“Shelley, you need to move now.  Move now, Shel; I’m going to come...Shelley, move, I’m coming...”

She wouldn’t move.  She kept sucking, harder and harder, even as his seed burst forth in her mouth.  He thrust again as he shuddered his pleasure.  She lifted her mouth from him and took him in her hand, pumping him, again and again, giving him as much pleasure from his ejaculation as possible. 

“God, Shelley, that was incredible!” he panted.  “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Umm, my, umm...my late husband,” she lied.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
1530 PDT 
Napa Valley, CA

“This country is so beautiful, Clayton!  Thank you for suggesting this,” Shelley gushed.  They’d been in the Napa area for several hours, just driving...admiring the sights.

Webb looked over at her and smiled.  She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail this morning so it wouldn’t blow in her face and get tangled as they drove with the top down.  Some of the shorter strands had come loose, though, and blew across her face.  ‘Enchanting,’ Webb thought.  “You getting hungry yet?  It’s long past lunch time.”

“Sure, we can stop whenever you’d like.  Or we can just wait for dinner.  Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Why don’t we have an early dinner, say in another hour?” Webb suggested.

“Perfect!”

“I do need to get some gas in the car, though,” he said as he pulled in to an Amoco station.

“I’ll let the dogs out while you fill up the car,” Shelley said.

That’s exactly what Webb hoped she would do.  He got his cell phone out.  “Damn!  I forgot to turn the thing back on this morning.”  He had turned the phone off last night at dinner after they were interrupted for the third time by his boss.  “No wonder I haven’t gotten any calls today,” he said to himself.  He pressed the On button and then checked his voicemail, just to be sure he didn’t have any urgent calls.  There was a call from Mac, one from Harm, one from his secretary, and one from his mother.  Then he searched through the library of numbers stored in his phone until he found one for the Napa Inn Bed & Breakfast. 

“Napa Inn B&B, may I help you?” a lilting young voice answered.

“Hey, Sweat Pea; how’s my favorite girl?” Webb asked.

“Uncle Clayton!  Hello!  How are you?  Mamá!!  It’s Uncle Clayton!!” she yelled without covering the mouthpiece.

“Patty!  That’s my eardrum you’re breaking!” Webb admonished.

“Ooops, sorry about that.  Where are you, Uncle Clayton?”

“In Napa.  Have any room for me?”

“You bet we do!”  Johanna Gonzalez said as she heard the last of their conversation.  “We always have room for you, Clayton, you know that.”

“Actually, I have a guest with me.  Do you have two rooms?”

“A guest?  Is he young enough for me or is he old, like you?” Patty queried.

“She is old, like me,” Webb replied.

“She?” inquired Johanna.  “And you want two rooms?  Patty, hang up the phone.”

“We only just met yesterday, Johanna.  I don’t want to rush her.”

“Since when did you ever not want to rush a woman?” she joked.

“Since I met Shelley,” Webb confessed.  “So, can you put us up?  Oh, I should tell you that she has two little dogs.”

“I don’t usually allow pets; but for you, Clayton, of course.  Yes, you come on.  I’ll have rooms for you.”

“And how about an early dinner at the Club?  Think you can arrange it?  Say for 5:00?” he asked.

Johanna laughed.  “Yes, Clayton, of course.  5:00 at the Club.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Bye, Sweetheart.”

“See you soon, Clayton.”

Shelley was just returning to the car with the dogs as Webb said goodbye.  She felt a stab of jealousy when she heard him call someone “Sweetheart”.  What did she even know about this man?   Not much.  He certainly steered their conversations away from himself.

“All set?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled as she locked the kennel gate closed and climbed in the front seat.

“Something wrong?” he noticed the change in her attitude.  She’d been happy and carefree when they arrived at the station not 10 minutes ago.  Now Shelley seemed more reserved.  Guarded.

“No,” she lied.  They drove in silence for about 5 minutes.  Finally, Webb broke the quiet.

“I thought we’d dine at the Napa Valley Dining Club.  That okay with you?” he asked.

“What about the dogs?  We can’t take them in a restaurant and we can’t just leave them in the car,” Shelley informed him.

“We’ll stop at the B&B first and ...”

“B&B?  What B&B?”

“The Napa Inn B&B.  Friends of mine own & run it.  I just called to see if they could take us for the night.  And they can,” he explained as he turned in the driveway.  “Here we are.”

“Clayton, all of our things are in San Francisco,” she complained.

“Well, no.  Actually, there’s a small bag in the trunk with some of your things in it; Gina packed it this morning while we ate breakfast on the balcony.  And there’s another one for me, compliments of Joseph.  I told them to pack for just one night.”  Webb pulled the car into a parking spot and got out.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” she asked as she stepped out of the car and reached for the dogs.

“Didn’t know if you’d really enjoy the countryside, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to agree to stay just because we had stuff with us,” he explained.

“Clayton...”

“Uncle Clayton!!” a 15-year old girl came flying down the front steps of the sprawling B&B.  She threw herself in his arms and started kissing him.  “It’s been so long!!”

“Hello, Sweet Pea,” Webb laughed.  “Patty....Patty!”  He finally held her away from him long enough to say, “Patty, this is Mrs. Dwyer.  Shelley, meet Patty Gonzalez.”

“Hello, Patty.”

“Hello, Mrs. Dwyer.  Welcome to the Napa Inn,” she said politely.  “Oh!  Are those your dogs?  How adorable!!” she squealed.

“Clayton!  How good to see you, again!” a 40-ish woman said as she made her way over to them.

Clayton took her in his arms for a hug; Shelley felt that jealous twinge, again.  “Hello, Johanna.  Shelley, this is Johanna Gonzalez.  Jo, meet Shelley Dwyer.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dwyer.  Any friend of Clayton’s is always welcome here,” she offered as Webb opened the trunk and retrieved their two overnight cases.

“Thank you.  Please, call me Shelley.”  Shelley tried to sound cordial, but she knew she sounded stilted.  ‘This is ridiculous.  You don’t have any claim to this man.  You do not have the right to be jealous!’

“Clayton, if you two want to freshen up a bit before dinner, feel free to do so.  Your room is at the top of the stairs, second on the right, number 4.  And Shelley, your room is at the top of the stairs, second on the left, number 5, just opposite Clayton’s room,” Johanna said as she walked inside and headed for the staircase, her guests trailing behind.

Shelley was startled.  ‘My room?  Clayton’s room?  He got us two rooms?’

“Shelley, I need to return some phone calls,” Webb said as he set her bag on the floor just inside her room. He turned to go in his room and added, “You go ahead and freshen up or whatever and I’ll be with you in about 45 minutes.” Shelley heard his door close.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
1600 PDT 
Napa Inn Bed & Breakfast 
Napa, CA

Webb took his cell phone out and dialed his mother’s house.

“Hello?” his mother answered.

“Good evening, Mother,” Webb started.

“Clayton.”

“Mother, I’m going to have to cancel our riding together tomorrow. I’m still in California,” he said.

“Decided to stay the weekend, did you?” she said happily. “So, Shelley is a nice woman? Someone I’ll be meeting?” she probed.

“Yes, Mother, I decided to stay the weekend with Shelley. Yes, she is a nice woman. And yes, I hope you will be meeting her very soon,” Webb answered. “Mother, there’s just one thing about Shelley…” he started, but then paused.

Porter Webb waited. She knew something was bothering her son about this woman. She could tell. Call it “mother’s intuition”, if you will, but she knew something was troubling her Clayton. When he didn’t go on, she offered, “Is it something I can help with, Dear?”

“Maybe,” Clay said. He hadn’t actually thought of using his mother as a go-between, but maybe that would be best. “Shelley’s brother works at the Pentagon, Mother.”

“Oh? Do you know him? Do I know him?” she asked.

“Yes, to both questions. Mother, Shelley’s maiden name is Creighton.” He heard his mother’s quick intake of breath. Not exactly a gasp; Porter Webb was too refined to gasp in surprise.

“As in Douglas Creighton, I presume,” Porter said calmly.

“Correct.”

“Dear God. Clayton, how did you get involved with his sister? Where did you even meet her?”

“Mother, I didn’t know she was a Creighton until this morning. She goes by her late husband’s name, Dwyer. Alice ran a background check on her yesterday morning, but she never mentioned her maiden name. And, damn it! I didn’t ask! I knew her brother worked at the Pentagon, but it never occurred to me that he might be…”

“Calm down, Clayton. She’s a grown woman…how old?”

“36.”

“Well, at 36, she probably doesn’t listen to much her brother says anymore, anyway. And Clayton, the whole situation turned out to be very funny. It might just be that Shelley will laugh about it all.”

“Maybe.”

“When will you be home? And when would you like me to talk to her?” Porter asked.

“Don’t have a flight scheduled yet, actually. Shelley wants to go to Alcatraz tomorrow and then do some shopping before we leave. I thought we’d take the redeye home, but now…”

“Why don’t you schedule a charter, Clayton? Then you can leave whenever you want to, and land at the strip here at the house. I’ll have a late dinner for you, and then Shelley and I can talk.”

“Mother, our cars are at Dulles.”

“Frederick can take you both out there when you’re ready to leave. Or you can just take the Porsche. Whatever you’d like, Dear.”

“All right, Mother. Thank you. I think we’ll do just that. See you tomorrow night.”

“Goodbye, Clayton.”

Webb dialed his secretary’s home number. “Alice, it’s Webb. Charter me a flight home out of San Francisco tomorrow. We’ll probably want to leave around 2 or 3:00. We’re going to my mother’s place. Two passengers…Mrs. Dwyer and me,” Clay ordered.

“Of course, Mr. Webb,” she answered sleepily.

“Alice? Did I wake you up?” he asked.

“Not a problem, Mr. Webb. I went to bed a little early tonight, that’s all. Wasn’t feeling that great this week, so I decided to get a little extra rest while you were out of town.” ‘I should have known better,’ she thought.

“Oh. Well, this flight should be all I need for the rest of the weekend, so you just sleep in tomorrow. Drink a lot of water. It’s good for you. You have enough water at your place?”

Alice smiled and tried not to laugh. “Plenty, Mr. Webb. Thank you.” She drank tap water, not bottled water like her boss. ‘Why spend money on bottled water when the stuff out of the tap tastes just as good?’

“Good. Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything. I’ll send Frederick over,” he offered.

“I’ll be just fine, Mr. Webb. Thanks, again. If there’s a problem with the charter, I’ll call you back. Otherwise, it’ll be the same one as usual.”

Webb hung up and dialed another number.

“Hello?” Mac answered. ‘This better not be Rabb canceling our date for tonight. I’ll kill him!’ she thought.

“Webb. You all set for tonight?” he asked his friend.

“Clay! Oh, I’m glad you called. How was your trip?” Mac asked.

“Actually, I’m still here,” he said. “Decided to stay for the weekend.”

“Oh? Who is she, Clay?”

“What makes you think…”

“I know you, Clay. You wouldn’t stay in San Francisco over a weekend on purpose unless there was a woman involved!” Mac laughed.

“Her name is Shelley; I met her at the airport yesterday morning,” Clay confessed.

“Pretty?”

“Very. Looks a lot like you, actually.”

“Why, thank you, Clay. What an off-handed way to give a girl a compliment,” she teased.

“So, are you ready for Rabb tonight?” he asked.

“No! …yes. I mean, oh, hell, Clay, I don’t know! What on earth do we think we’re doing? We’ve been friends for five years. Why mess up a good friendship with romance? Damn, I should never have agreed to do this,” Mac said.

“Mac, it’ll be okay. Rabb loves you. And you love Rabb. Just take it slow. Slow and easy. He won’t rush you. I promise,” Clay soothed.

“How can you know that? How can you promise he won’t want to have sex tonight?” she ranted.

There was a knock on Webb’s bedroom door. He opened it and found Shelley standing in the corridor. He put up his finger to motion for her to wait a minute as he continued his phone conversation.

“Hell, Mac! Of course he’s going to want to have sex with you tonight! He’s a man! And he’s in love with a gorgeous woman…you! But it’s because he loves you that he won’t rush you. He knows better than that, Mac. Trust me on this. Harm is going to give you all the time you need.” ‘…or I’ll kill him!’

“I’d better get off. He should be here any minute, and I need to feed Jingo before he comes,” Mac said. “Bye. See you when you get home.”

“Bye, Mac.” Webb turned to Shelley. “Just one more call and I’m ready.” He dialed, again.

“Rabb!” Harm answered.

“Webb here. I assume you’re on your way to Mac’s right now, so just listen. Mac is scared. She’s scared of ruining your friendship by starting to date you. Same thing you’re scared of. So take it slow. You got it? Slow. Crawl…like a snail. You get hot and heavy tonight and she’ll bolt. You get her the pink roses?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Remember what I said, Rabb. Slow. I find out you moved on her tonight, and I’ll do you some serious damage. You got that?” Webb said menacingly.

Harm chuckled. “A little protective of my partner, aren’t you, Webb?”

“Damn straight!”

“You’ve been hanging around JAG too much. You’re beginning to sound like the Admiral!” Harm laughed.

Webb hung up and turned to Shelley. “You ready?”

Shelley looked at him for a moment before answering. “Do you always give advice to your friends before their dates?” she asked quietly.

Webb looked into Shelley’s eyes. He couldn’t quite tell what he saw there. Sadness? Jealousy? Fear? Rejection? Or was it admiration? Her eyes were expressive, but there was always something that kept him from being able to read them. “Just these two,” he said softly, taking her arm and heading for the stairs.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
1845 PDT Napa Valley Dining Club 
Napa, CA 

Webb and Shelley finished their meal.  “That was delicious!” Shelley exclaimed. 

“Yes, it was.  Best part was the wine, too,” he added. Shelley laughed. 

“I guess you have to say that around here.” 

“So, would you like some dessert?” Webb asked her. 

“I rather thought I would be dessert later,” she said suggestively. 

Webb quirked his eyebrow up at her.  “Did you now?” he chuckled. 

“Was there a particular reason you got us two rooms at the B&B, Clayton?” she purred, running her foot up and down Webb’s leg under the table. 

“Uh huh,” he mumbled.

“And that reason would be...what?” 

“Patty.” 

“Who?” 

“Patty.  Johanna & José’s daughter.  She’s at a very impressionable age right now, and I didn’t think it would be a good idea to...” 

“I understand, Clayton.  It’s okay.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course.  And I think all the more of you for putting an impressionable young girl first.  Not many men today would do that.  Not many men today would even think twice about it.”  Shelley smiled.  “So, what do they have for dessert here?” 

“I thought you were going to be dessert?” he laughed. 

“Separate rooms, Clayton, usually means separate beds,” she whispered in confidence...and then laughed. 

“Ah, you’re right!  Damn. Maybe we should go back to the city tonight,” he suggested with a smirk.

Shelley slapped his arm. “Clayton, you’re horrible!” she laughed.
 

Saturday, 11 August 2001 
2230 PDT 
Napa Inn Bed & Breakfast 
Napa, CA 

Webb and Shelley spent almost three hours in the parlor with Johanna and José, tasting all the wines they had to offer.  Shelley felt very tipsy as she stood and said, “I need to take the dogs out, again, before bed.” 

“Patty already did that, Shel,” Webb said. 

“She’s such a sweet gull.  And the dogs just love her.  It was so nithe of her to keep them comp’ny while we went to dinner,” Shelley said, her words slightly slurred. 

“She loved every minute of it, Shelley,” José offered.  “I won’t let her have a dog because of the B&B, so when she’s around them, she goes off the deep end.” 

“Thank you for letting me keep them with me t’night,” Shelley returned. 

“No problem at all.  They’re so small and quiet, we’re hard pressed to even know they’re around.” 

Shelley headed for the stairs.  “I think I’ll say g’night, then.  I’m about to drop.”  And with that, she did drop.  Right there, in a heap, at the foot of the stairs. 

“Shelley!” Webb cried running to her.  When he reached her, she was out like a light.  “Shelley?  Honey?” Webb patted her cheek.  Nothing. 

“I think she passed out, Clayton.” 

“Maybe she’s not used to drinking so much,” offered José. 

“It was just wine.  And she didn’t have enough to make her pass out,” argued Webb. 

“If she’s not used to it, she did.  She drank about a bottle’s worth, Clayton.  Just because you drank two bottles’ worth and hardly feel it...” 

“And you drank three!” he inserted.  Webb picked up Shelley in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her room.  He laid her on the bed as Johanna and José walked in the room. 

“Want me to help her into her pajamas?” asked Johanna. 

“Yea, that would be good.  Thanks, Jo.” 

“José, take the kennel downstairs to Patty.  The dogs can sleep in her room tonight.  I don’t think Shelley will wake up if they cry and need to go out.  Patty can see to them.  She’ll love it.” 

“Thanks, again, Jo,” Webb said. 

“You better go get in your bed, too, Clayton.  You look like you’re about to pass out, yourself.” 

“I won’t argue with you there.  But mine is just exhaustion...not wine.”

“Yea, right,” she laughed. “Buenas noches.”
 

Continue to Part II