Title: OPPORTUNITIES

Fandom: Donald Strachey Mysteries (movieverse)

Pairing: Donald and Timothy

Rating: R, language 

Word Count: 7030

References/Spoilers: Mentions of Don's past that's discussed in STTS.

Disclosure: I wish they were mine. Alas, they are not, so I'm just taking them out for a spin with thanks to the men who created them and the actors who brought them to life.

Summary: Don's actions during the robbery lead him to a new opportunity. Sequel to "Good Sports" in the One Night Series.

******************************************************************************

OPPORTUNITIES

by

Candy Apple

Timothy wasn't thrilled that I was going back to work at the store, but he knew realistically that the chances of another robbery there were minimal. The irony of my nearly getting blown away working this job, instead of the one where he thought it was more likely I'd be blown away, was something he didn't find even remotely amusing. Even when I pointed out that life has a sick sense of humor.

I wasn't surprised to see Tony, the district manager, there when I arrived about noon on Sunday. The store was open those wonderful extended holiday hours, so I was supposed to be there until ten. The nice thing about retail is, you don't get any time off for nearly being shot. If you weren't shot, you're expected back at work the next day.

Tony was a few years older than I was, a tall, dark-haired, good-looking guy (I'm married, not dead, and I have a type I like, okay?). And no, he wasn't as good-looking as Timmy. I haven't found one of those yet. If I ever do, I'll definitely write about it.

Anyhow, he was standing up by the registers, on his cell phone with someone. Jack, the assistant manager, was working with customers, and there were a couple other salespeople there. The store was just opening, since the cops had demanded it remain closed long enough for them to process the crime scene. Apparently Tony demanded they do that and get it over with so the store could open by noon. There wasn't that much to process. No blood, only one stray bullet from the psycho that misfired when I knocked him backwards...it couldn't have taken long to wrap that up.

"You must be Don," he said, extending his hand as I stepped up in the register area. I shook it. Eh, this one chewed his nails. No thanks. I was spoiled looking at Timothy's beautiful, perfectly shaped, impeccably manicured and yet erection-inspiringly masculine hands. Hands that could make me come faster than anyone ever thought of...

"That's me. Tony?" I asked. I hadn't met the guy formally, but I'd see his photo on the bulletin board from some store meeting he'd held there a few months back.

"Yeah. Thanks for taking such decisive action in dealing with the robbery attempt last night," he said quietly, casting a surreptitious glance around to make sure no customers overheard.

"Well, my training comes in hand once in a while," I said, smiling.

"How would you feel about being a keyholder?"

Keyholder? What the fuck was that? It sounded like something out of "Lord of the Rings" or "Harry Potter." Donald, Holder of the Key.

"Probably okay, if I knew what that meant," I said. He laughed. Smile was nice. Didn't quite light up his face like Timmy's does. Got steak at home, don't need to go out for burgers...

"Well, we don't have a management position open at the moment, but with the holiday shopping season in full swing, we could use someone else who could open and close the store, be responsible for the money, and so on. You'd get more hours, and a dollar an hour more."

Wow. Can you spare it? You want me to be a manager, but not be called one, not get paid like one, have no benefits, for a buck an hour more? I tried to remember why I was there. Money and hours were the reason. I needed money to pay Cora, keep the lights on, and keep my paws out of our cookie jar in case Timmy was out of work for a while.

"Sure, that sounds good," I lied.

"Shane's going to be off work a few days. He's out of the hospital this morning, but he has a concussion. Jack can work out the schedule with you."

"I still need Wednesday off."

"I guess Jack'll have to figure that out, if we can still do that with Shane out."

"I'm on a plane to Virginia Tuesday night. I can't cancel it now."

He looked confounded, but since I had just foiled a robbery attempt and gotten at least one of their employees out of the store before it even happened, I guess he figured that had earned me my holiday plans.

"We'll work around it. You're planning on being in town over Christmas, right?"

And miss the day after Christmas doorbusters? Perish the thought.

"I'll be around."

"Great."

It was a typical busy Sunday, and the time went by fairly quickly. There wasn't much I had to be trained on as a keyholder, but Jack went over the deposit procedure and paperwork that had to be done. Jack was a little older than Shane, and he seemed to plan to make his career in retail, either with this store or another one that would give him a store manager job. He knew his stuff, and he was good with the customers.

Tiffany wasn't working that day, so I was surprised to see her come in. She was with an older man, tall with graying dark hair and glasses. He was wearing jeans and a sweater, but even I could see that sweater was worth about three hundred bucks. Timmy had one or two that nice. I wished then he could have a whole wardrobe that fancy. Now he does, since I love to spend part of a big retainer on him, he has no aversion to clothes shopping himself, and his mother fills in anything we might miss.

"Hi, Don," she greeted cheerfully as they approached me. I'd just finished relieving some guy of a few hundred bucks for a set of weights, and he was happily on his way to the register to open his store charge card for his $10 discount.

"Hey, Tiffany. Just can't stay away from this place, huh?"

"Yeah, right, wouldn't want to spend my day off anyplace but here," she joked. "This is my dad. He wanted to meet you," she said.

"It's a pleasure," I said, shaking hands with him. "Don Strachey."

"John Madison," he replied. "Honey, why don't you go across the hall and pick out something you like?" he said, handing Tiffany a couple twenties.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, beaming and heading for the Bath & Body Works store like a heat-seeking missile.

"Tiffany gave me your card, and said you were ex-military intelligence. She finds it all very glamorous," he said, smiling.

"I'm not sure glamorous would be the word I'd choose," I said, shaking my head. "If it was that glamorous, I don't think I'd be here right now."

"You saved my daughter from getting in the middle of something that could have been very unpleasant for her, and I want to thank you for that. My wife died several years ago...Tiffany is the image of her. I know I spoil her, but she's everything to me."

"She's a great girl. She even had the patience to teach me how to run the register," I added, and he laughed.

"I wanted her to have a job, experience working for some of her spending money. I thought this would be a safe place." He shook his head.

"You and me both. It was kind of a sick irony to have a gun to my head in here, when I'm usually risking that in my PI job."

"Are you familiar with Madison Enterprises?"

Familiar with it? Who wasn't? Madison Towers was just one of its elements, a thirty-floor building of high rent offices and higher rent apartments in the heart of Albany. Madison Enterprises also included investment firms, real estate ventures, and a couple malls thrown in for good measure.

"Yes. Our lawyer's office is in Madison Towers," I said, recalling the time Timmy and I had spent with a lawyer, getting as entangled as we could, even without a marriage license. The building was posh, and I kept feeling we were paying for that guy's overhead as much as for his services.

"What did you think of the building?"

"Very attractive place."

"Madison Enterprises also owns this mall, and the strip mall across the street."

"I didn't know that. I knew the company's holdings included real estate and malls, just not which ones."

"I have a number of properties and companies to manage, and I have a feeling we could put your talents to better use than stocking shelves and selling...tents," he gestured at the camping display. "This is a fine job for Tiffany to pick up a little extra pocket money, but you can't tell me this is your choice of career positions."

"My partner and I had some setbacks in the last few months, and my PI business suffered for it, so business isn't what it usually is."

"You're in business with someone else?" he asked. I realized then just how ambiguous the term "partner" could be.

"No, I meant my life partner. We got married in February. As married as we can get, anyway."

"My mistake," he said, chuckling. But it wasn't a derisive chuckle, just an embarrassed one.

"Understandable," I said. "Actually, if you're looking for an outstanding PR guy, Timothy's job as chief of staff for Congressman Donnelly is wrapping up in a few weeks."

"Tim Callahan?"

"Yes, that's him."

"I know him," he said. "I've been a long-time supporter of Sean Donnelly's career, re-election campaigns. I've met Tim a few times at community events. Didn't he used to work for Senator Glassman?"

"Yes. That was his job just before this one."

"Not interested in staying on with the new congressman, Grant? I kind of thought with Tim's political connections, Grant would keep him on."

"Yeah, well, he was offered the job, but their ideologies didn't really mesh."

"No surprise there. I supported Dorothy Simmons' campaign, but we always have a close race with the Republicans, and the scandal in Donnelly's office didn't help. Not sure where things went downhill for him, but he was a good man with a lot of good ideas."

"He was a great boss to Timothy, and he was one of the few politicians I could stand listening to." Madison laughed at that.

"He was a dynamic speaker. Life of the party, too," he added. "Here's my card." He handed me a glossy black business card with gold embossed printing on it. "My office and cell numbers are on there. Call my office tomorrow and set up an interview. I'll let my assistant know to expect your call. Meanwhile, tell Tim to e-mail me his resume - I'd like to take a look at it."

"Thanks, I'll do that. I really appreciate the opportunity." You have no fucking idea how much I appreciate it.

"I should go find my daughter before she exhausts the cash and moves on to the plastic."

********

"Timothy!"

I shot up in bed, my eyes wide, my heart pounding. I usually hear Don come in, but I'd dozed off, and the energetic shout of my name brought me to with a start. The way he jumped on the bed with me reminded me of a little kid on Christmas morning. He stuck a bouquet of gaudy, nearly fluorescent multi-colored mini carnations in my face.

"I thought the budget didn't include flowers for awhile," I said, laughing, taking the slightly ragged bouquet from him.

"We might be revising the budget," he said, still grinning. "You know John Madison? He says he knows you."

"Of course. He's one of the biggest political donors to the Democratic Party in New York State, and among the power players in the country. Why?"

"Wow...sometimes it blows my mind you know people like that."

"I don't really hang out on his yacht or have drinks with him."

"Guess who Tiffany's father is?"

"Tiffany at Good Sports is Tiffany Madison, heiress to the entire Madison fortune? That girl's trust fund would buy that chain of stores. And then some."

"Yeah, well, Daddy really appreciated me getting his little girl out of harm's way."

"How much did he appreciate it?" I asked. I wondered if he'd hired Don to do some PI work, or written him a nice check.

"Enough to ask me to make an appointment to see him in his office for an interview for a job with Madison Enterprises. AND, he wants you to e-mail him your resume."

"Are you serious? You told him I was looking for a job?"

"I just said if he wanted a great PR guy, you were going to be wrapped up with Donnelly's office in a few weeks."

"That doesn't make me look too pathetic," I said, deflating. I'd spent my whole life trying to build a professional reputation of my own, to not get jobs because of my father's connections. Still, Donald looked stricken, and then I felt like an asshole. I was embarrassed he'd thrust me out there like I was some loser who didn't have any other options. Even if I didn't have any at the moment. John Madison didn't need to know that. But my overinflated pride wasn't enough reason to rain on his parade quite so heavily.

"I told him you turned Grant's job offer down, so it's not like he thinks you didn't get offered that job." Don looked contrite now, like he'd stuck his foot in his mouth and displeased me.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little touchy about being unemployed, I guess," I said, touching his hair. "That's amazing news."

"But you're not happy. I thought you'd be excited." He sat up now, getting out of the prone position his belly-flop on the bed hand landed him in.

"It's just that I've spent a lot of time cultivating John as a donor to Sean's re-election campaign, and Senator Glassman's before that, and I just don't want to look as if I don't have any other opportunities. When I didn't get that chief aide job in Senator Glassman's office...it was more than a little humiliating in front of a lot of people I worked with in that setting. Now I'm going to be out of work again. I guess I wanted to look more in demand than that."

"Honey, you can't be in demand if people don't know you can be demanded."

Even though it took me a minute to process that, I hated to admit Don was right. And be once again amazed that he puts up with me when I act like a pretentious prick. I try not to do that often, and hopefully I've outgrown some of the lingering tendrils of my childhood by now. Appearances were paramount in my family, to the extent that Kelly ran for the hills rather than try to conform to it. And then there was my independent streak to contend with - I thought I should be the one making my own opportunities, that if I succeeded, it shouldn't be based on someone else's connections. I never wanted my father's clout to guide the course of my life. I'd let that bleed over onto Donald, whose only motive was to help me, who had no agenda but to take care of me and make me happy.

"Did he say what kind of job he had in mind for you?" I asked, changing the subject, hoping to see a little of that first spirit of enthusiasm come back - the one I'd managed to step on.

"Not really. He just said he figured there was something I could do for his company that would put my talents to better use." He paused, chewing his lip a moment. "I shouldn't have shot off my mouth about you, without talking to you first. I figured if he had one job for me, maybe he'd have a couple of them open and something would work for you, too."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I can't afford to let pride stand in the way of getting help if it's out there. And I love you for thinking of me when he was offering you a chance at a job."

That made him smile again, and he kissed me. I didn't deserve a smile and a kiss. I deserved a swat upside the head, preferably on the side without the recently healed eardrum.

"It's not like he was just being nice. He really seemed like he liked you."

"That's good to hear. I'll send him my resume tomorrow." I hugged him. Hard.

"What's that for?" he asked, pulling back. "Not that I'm complaining."

"For putting up with me."

"Yeah, it's a trial, but I think I can stomach it for the next fifty or sixty years," he said with a big grin. He kissed me and we took our time on that one. "I'll stick these in water," he said.

"The flowers are beautiful. Thank you."

"No, they're not, but they'll do until I can swing roses again," he joked, taking them out to the kitchen to put them in water for me.

********

"I look like I'm going to a funeral," I said, adjusting the tie Timmy loaned me to go with my dark suit and white shirt. The tie was expensive, one his mother had given him. I don't remember which designer it was now, but it had some little logo on it that reeked money, and it was a nice dark stripe.

"You should always err on the side of conservative for a job interview," Timmy said, right before he frowned and "fixed" my hair. I'm not sure what was wrong with it, but it must not have been conservative enough. I'd been dressing myself and combing my own hair for a long time, but apparently I was not capable of doing either thing myself for such an important occasion. "There. Perfect."

"You sure?" I asked, and his scalp tightened as he gave me a look. He knew when I was being a smart ass.

"It's only a job interview for Madison Enterprises. I'm sure jeans would have been okay," he retorted. Timmy can do snippy so much better than I can. I know when I'm out-gunned.

"I don't even know what kind of job he has in mind." I know it was on the tip of Timothy's tongue to say that any job he offered had to be better than what I had at the moment, but he's always been gentle with my dignity. So he kissed me instead.

"I'm sure an organization that size would have several options for someone with your talents."

He was still in his robe, but he'd showered already and smelled of some delicious cologne.

"What talents, exactly, are we talking about?" I slid my arms around him and grinned lecherously at him.

"You'll wrinkle yourself," he said, pulling away.

"Now I really hate this fucking outfit."

"You look handsome."

"So do you."

"Get going, so you have time to park and get up to his office before your appointment."

"Can I come by and take you out to lunch later?"

"Don't you have to work at the store?"

"Not until one. I could take you someplace nice, my being all dolled up like this. We could go before noon, so I could get over to the mall and change in time."

"11:15, and I'll be waiting by the door, so you can just pick me up."

"It's a date." I took both his hands in mine and kissed them. Then I looked him in the eyes. I love him so much it just...defies words. But once in a while, I try anyway. "I'd be so lucky just to get a date with you. I don't know how I ever got lucky enough to con you into marrying me."

He hugged me then, apparently not caring if he wrinkled me or not. "I love you," he said against my ear. It seems like those three little words aren't enough to express how we feel about each other, but somehow, in his sweet voice, they always are. I hope he feels that way, too, when he hears them from me.

"I love you, too, beautiful." After we parted, I cautiously asked, "Did you send him your resume?"

"Yes. He said he would see what opportunities he had available."

"You sent it right away?"

"The next morning after he talked to you. Don, don't worry about that. Just find out what he has in mind for you. If one of us lands a good job, we'll be in good shape for a while. Even if it takes me a little time to find something else."

"He'd be nuts not to hire you."

"I love you for that, honey, but it's his company, and he originally was interested in hiring you. I don't want to mess that up."

"If he can find a job for me, he can find one for you."

"Don't you dare do that. If he makes you a good offer, and you like it, you take it. I'll get a job on my own if something doesn't pan out with Madison Enterprises."

I was pissed now, and for two cents, I'd have canceled the whole fucking interview. If he was so grateful that I'd saved his little princess (no slam on Tiffany - she's a nice girl, grew into a nice young woman, who's now running one of daddy's shopping malls and learning the ropes of the family conglomerate), he could come up with a fucking job for Timmy. It's not like I was pushing off some unqualified loser on him. I guess Timmy picked upon that, because he took a hold of my shoulders.

"Donald, this opportunity could bail us out. If one of us makes it, we both make it. Don't shoot yourself, and us, in the foot because you're ticked off or think he should have interviewed me. It doesn't matter. Go in there with a positive attitude, and don't mention me. I'm a big boy, I can follow up on this myself. Okay?"

"Okay. And yes, you are a big boy," I added, and he dodged my attempt to grope him. He'd shown me just what a big boy he was about five that morning, and if not for the appointment and that damn suit, I wouldn't have minded showing him what a big boy I was.

Madison Towers was all an intimidating tall building should be. Lots of glass, marble floors, expensive but minimalist (I learned that term from Timmy) furnishings, and the boss's office located damn near the top floor. I guess I fit in all right in my undertaker suit, since no one really gave me a second look as I moved among the suited hordes into an elevator and up to John Madison's office. I pushed open the glass door that led into the suite marked "Madison Enterprises," and stopped at the reception desk. An older woman in a dark business suit completed transferring a phone call and looked up at me.

"May I help you?"

"I have an appointment with John Madison at nine," I said. It was about five before that then. Good thing Timmy had shoved me out the door when he had.

"Please have a seat. I'll let Mr. Madison know you're here."

"Thank you." I went to one of the square, modern leather couches and sat on the edge of the seat. Timothy had redone my resume the night before. I sounded a hell of a lot more impressive now. He'd also loaned me one of his leather portfolios so I didn't show up carrying my papers in a ratty manila envelope. I do have a briefcase, and I had one then. I just didn't use it as much, and a whole briefcase would have been overkill for this appointment.

"Don, good to see you," John greeted, emerging from the dark recesses of the office suite to greet me. "Come on back. Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure, sounds good," I said. Timmy had told me the night before to take him up on it he offered something, because he said John was "folksy" and he'd like that I wasn't too uptight to say yes.

"Great. I have a fresh pot brewing in my office."

His office was more than a little awe-inspiring. One whole wall was windows, and you could see all of Albany...hell, you could probably see most of New York State if you looked hard enough. His desk itself was a sleek piece of black enamel, glass, and chrome, but it was loaded with papers, books, notepads, a laptop, a printer, and a variety of other items. It was turned so he would face the windows when he was working. He directed me toward a grouping of red leather furniture, where we sat. The carpeting had some kind of black and white geometric design in it that gave me vertigo, so I was glad to sit down until the squishy leather sofa ate my ass and I could barely keep my feet on the floor.

"I spend so much time in here, I have to have comfortable furniture," he said, pouring coffee into two square black cups, handing one to me before he sank into a nearby chair.

Square cups?

"I brought my resume," I said, opening Timmy's portfolio and handing the resume to him. He pulled a small pair of reading glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on.

"They make you look smarter," he quipped, and I laughed. He asked me some general questions about what exactly I'd learned how to do in military intelligence, about a few of my most interesting or complex PI cases, and how I liked working at the store. That last one was a landmine. Saying it was great would be an outright lie, and he'd know it, but badmouthing your current job is never the way to land a new one.

"It's not what I'm used to doing, but I like working with the customers, and it's not bad for a second job."

"Why did you leave the Army?" he asked. "I was an Army man myself, but it was mainly because my father thought it would build character. I had a wild streak as a teenager. I still have it, but the Army did tame it a little."

I left the Army because I fell in love with my lieutenant, and we got caught in the sack together. That was right before I shot off my mouth about how in love with him I was, and got us kicked out, and drove him to blow his brains out.

"I didn't feel that living a double life was going to be a good situation for me in the long run. Once I met Timothy, I realized I'd made the right decision. And I've enjoyed the PI business."

"You like being your own boss?"

"Yes."

"If you accept an opportunity with Madison Enterprises, you'd be giving that up. How would you feel about that?"

"It depends on the opportunity. And it's not like I don't know how to follow orders or respect the chain of command - I'm sure you can identify with that."

"Yes, that's one thing the Army teaches well." He set my resume aside. "How do you feel about relocating?"

"I guess I'd have to repeat my original answer again - it depends on the opportunity. And on discussing it with Tim."

"Madison Enterprises is opening a new, high end shopping center in Suffolk County. Are you familiar with the area?"

"I know it's on Long Island. I haven't been there."

"It's home to The Hamptons, and some other very affluent areas. This isn't going to be your ordinary outlet mall, nor is it going to be another run-of-the-mill shopping mall. I want to bring a Park Avenue/Rodeo Drive shopping experience to this shopping center. I'd like you to consider a position with us as Head of Security and Loss Prevention."

"I'm sure I'm stating the obvious when I say the extent of my retail experience is the last few weeks at Good Sports. Well, I did work part-time at a hardware store in high school during my junior and senior years, but loss prevention there amounted to thwarting the little kids from stealing candy off the displays by the check-out."

"I think if the U.S. Army trained you to organize security for strategic command centers in the middle of war zones, you can train security officers for a shopping center in Suffolk County. Furthermore, I'd say you demonstrated your loss prevention and security skills in a retail setting when you identified four armed robbers, got my daughter out of there safely, notified authorities, and ultimately disarmed the gunman who refused to surrender. I can send you to some training seminars to fill in the blanks, and I have an excellent security manager in New York City. I'd be sending him to mentor you for your first few weeks on the job. I also have a man in place there on-site who will be handling the technology - alarm systems, emergency alarms, sprinkler systems - he would be your colleague, a facilities manager." He paused and scrawled something on the small notepad he'd used to take some notes as we talked, then handed it to me. "That would be your starting salary, with benefits, of course. It's a bit low since, as you've pointed out, you don't have a lot of experience in a retail setting and you need some training. After a year, we'd review that."

I tried not to gape at it. I hoped the dryness in my mouth didn't make my voice come out as a soprano squeak of some kind. I wondered if I was staring stupidly at if for too long...$85,000. Now, granted, that's not millions when you look at The Hamptons and some of the wealth in that area, and for the responsibility I would have, it wasn't phenomenal, but it sure as hell would pay nice rent and keep Timmy in Ralph Lauren shirts until he found a job he liked.

Timmy...It bugged me that John hadn't even mentioned him. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something.

"I sense a hesitation here, Don. I understand you have to talk this over with Tim before committing." Then it seemed as if realization dawned. John didn't make it to the top of the family conglomerate, and keep it reeling in money the way it did, by being a poor judge of people. "I did review Tim's resume, by the way. Honestly, I didn't really have to. Your partner is a very talented, very dynamic professional. I would have no reservations about hiring him. I just don't have anything right now that fits his credentials. I could come up with something as a favor, but let me tell you something about your partner - if he wanted a job based on favors or handouts, one phone call from Steven Callahan would handle that. The Callahans are a very well-connected clan. If something opens up, I wouldn't even need to interview him. I know him well enough to know that he's a winner."

"He made me promise not to bring that up today," I admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me. Your loyalty to your partner isn't a drawback in my book. I felt the same way about my wife. If I'd thought someone was slighting her or not including her, I'd have been finished with them."

"That's how I feel about Timothy. Is that your wife?" I asked, gesturing toward a framed photo on the wall of a beautiful blonde woman who looked like an older version of Tiffany.

"Erica. Yes, that's her."

"She's beautiful. I can really see the resemblance to Tiffany."

"She was an amazing lady." He stared at the picture a moment. "Well, you think about that offer, talk it over with Tim, and get back to me. I'd like an answer before the holiday."

That gave me two days. Well, one day if I made my decision before we left for Virginia.

"I hate to sound ignorant, but what exactly would I be doing?"

"Hiring and training a security team. I'm not putting rent-a-cops in charge of this facility. We'll have our own security guards and loss prevention specialists. You'd manage that team, be on site both in an office setting and also out on the floor in the center to keep a finger on the pulse of any changing conditions. We'll have high-end jewelers, designer clothing and accessories...very valuable items. It'll be a target for shoplifting and robbery attempts, I'm sure. You'll develop policies and procedures to protect personnel during the handling of money, for armored car pick ups and drop offs, even deliveries, since they're not getting boxes of cheap basketballs. One of those store deliveries could be worth six figures, even seven for the jewelers."

I was kind of intimidated by all that.

"As I said, your youth and inexperience does work against you a bit with the starting salary, but we can review that again in a year, possibly even in six months, depending on how things go."

"I appreciate this opportunity, Mr. Madison - "

"John."

"John," I amended, smiling faintly. "I'll talk it over with Tim, and have an answer for you before we leave for Virginia for Thanksgiving."

"Good." He stood, and so did I.

"When would you want me to start?"

"Construction is finished, and now we're working on the interior amenities. After the first of the year. Let's say by early March, I'd want you on-site, familiarizing yourself with the physical layout, and developing a security plan - the center will open May first, if everything goes according to plans. Your job would start right after the New Year, since I'm asking my security guy in New York City to recommend some training seminars, and I'd like you to spend a week or so there with him, to see how he manages things. You'll be busy after the first of the year, relocated by March first."

"Sounds good. Thanks again," I said, and we shook hands.

********

The first snow was falling as I waited just inside the door of the office building for Don to pick me up for lunch. It was beautiful, but I hoped it was going to be a minor accumulation. I didn't want to be snowed in and miss going to Virginia for Thanksgiving. I was eager to see my family, and to have Don with me on our first official visit there as a couple.

He pulled up in front of the building, and I hurried out to the car. I was anxious to hear how his interview had gone, and what John Madison had in mind for him. I slid into the passenger seat and kissed him.

"How'd it go?"

"Well, he offered me a job," he said.

"Don't keep me in suspense."

Don laughed at that. I guess he was thinking we would actually get to the restaurant before I wanted all the details.

"Here." He handed me a slip of paper. The figure "$85,000" was written on it. It wasn't Don's handwriting.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

"I suppose I could support all of them on that salary, too."

"This is the salary? What's the job?"

"Head of Security and Loss Prevention for his new shopping center. The only catch is, it's in Suffolk County, on Long Island."

"Excuse me, did you just say 'catch'? You're referring to Suffolk County as a catch? Have you ever been there? Donald, it's a beautiful area. You're surrounded by water on three sides of the island. It's beautiful. My parents have friends who live in The Hamptons."

"I wasn't sure how you'd feel about relocating."

I gave him a look.

"I guess that answers that question," he replied, laughing.

"Before we put the cart before the horse here, how do you feel about the job? What would you be doing?"

"I can give you all the details once we get to the restaurant," he said, starting away from the curb. "The job sounds pretty interesting, actually."

"You'd have to give up your PI business."

"If I had many clients, that would be a bigger concern." Don pulled into the parking lot of an upscale restaurant not far from my office.

"This is a little pricey, isn't it?"

"I'm all dressed up, and I have a hot date. I'm not driving through McDonald's."

We put the job discussion on hold to go in, be seated at a nice table by the window where we could watch the snowfall, and Don ordered us an expensive bottle of wine, a chablis he knew I was especially fond of. Sometimes, I wonder how he remembers all those little details, and then I realize just how much he loves me and dotes on me in so many little ways that I sometimes almost miss them. When we had ordered, and we had our wine, I held up my glass toward him.

"To you, for landing such a remarkable opportunity, regardless of what you decide to do."

"To us, and movin' on up, if you're game to pull up stakes and head for Long Island," he said.

I knew he wanted to go for it, and I couldn't think of a single reason not to.

"I'll drink to that," I said, and we toasted, and he gave me a blinding smile. The thought of moving was kind of scary, but I'd relocated before, and I was alone then. We were in this together, and the more he told me about the job, the more I could see him getting excited about it. It was contagious.

"John said he didn't have any openings right now for you. That's the only thing I'm not thrilled about."

"I can find another job, Don. You were willing to move with me when I started applying for jobs after I lost that promotion."

"You were screwed out of that promotion. Losing it implies that you missed something."

"In any event, I'm not worried about that. I can find a job there, I'm sure."

"He called you a 'dynamic and talented professional' and he said that he figured you wouldn't want a job from him unless he had a genuine opportunity, versus a favor. He seemed to think you could get whatever you wanted if your father made the right phone call."

"I probably could." I sighed. "We've been so worried about money. Does that bother you? That I don't use my father's connections?"

"Hell, no. But then, my father would sooner see me six feet under that he would to have anything to do with me, so I don't expect a lot from father-son relationships."

"Then it's his loss." I took his hand. "I know I've put you through a lot of worry with the whole job thing, and my father probably could have found me something right away."

"You have ethics and you have honor," he said, looking at our joined hands, his thumb moving back and forth on my hand. "I love you for that...and for lots of other things, too, but I respect that. You wouldn't be you if you sold out for a job."

We talked about moving, about finding an apartment. We agreed that I'd put my job hunt on hold for a while and handle most of the logistics, since he wanted to finish up with a few clients, give the Good Sports staff enough time for Shane to get back to work and to find someone to replace him, and it sounded like John was going to have him hopping as soon as Christmas was over. We decided to take a trip to Long Island together, maybe between Christmas and New Year's, weather permitting, to look over the housing options and see where the new mall was located.

As we dug into our overpriced lunches, and sipped expensive wine, it all got a little more scary and exciting at the same time. I hated to go back to work, and to see Don go off to the store, but duty called. Now that we'd talked about relocating, and Don had such a great opportunity on the horizon, and my whole job search, albeit delayed now, was completely different than anything I'd been planning for, it seemed like there was too much to do for our new life to spend much time tied up with our old life.

The snow was falling a little more heavily as we walked out to the car. Even though it's cold, wet, and messy, I love being out in the snow. I've loved it since I was a little boy. Still, I was kind of confused when Don told me to wait outside while he ducked into the car and fumbled with something on the dashboard. A moment later, music was coming from inside the little old car, and I wondered how long it would be content idling. Don didn't seem worried about that as he got out and hurried up to where I stood behind the car, and took me in his arms and started dancing with me.

Out there in the parking lot, with people coming and going, staring at us like we were nuts, with the snow falling all around, we were dancing to How Deep Is Your Love? Don gave me that smile of his, and I smiled back, touching our foreheads together, wondering if our romance could be any hotter, sweeter, or more wonderful than it was at that moment. And I couldn't wait to start the next chapter of the wonderful, unpredictable, romantic life I had with the amazing man in my arms.

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