TWO

Thirty-five minutes later Cate finally pulled the Mercedes into the small crescent drive of the Central Park West high-rise.  She noticed a small group of camera-wielding spectators across the street, being watched by a bored-looking NYPD officer.  

Poor guy, she thought.  She’d had her share of shit details like that one.  Now she had to constantly pose for or ignore the paparazzi, but at least she didn’t have to babysit them.  Thank God I’m not a beat cop anymore.  

Seeing only the doorman outside the building, Cate pulled out her Blackberry and pushed the speed-dial button.  As she heard the first ring she saw the doorman turn toward the building entrance, reaching for the door handle.  Cate killed the call as she saw a familiar form in the doorway.  Then she laughed in surprise as she watched not one, but two grinning, disheveled blonde men stumble out onto the sidewalk.

Cate climbed out of the car and quickly rounded the front of the big sedan.  “I’ve got ‘em,” she called to the doorman, who was amusedly watching Cate’s two passengers-to-be.  She stopped and smiled at the pair, slowly shaking her head.  “Well, now this all makes sense.”

“Hey, Baby!”  Jon exclaimed giddily.  “You made it!”

“Yeah, I made it,” Cate laughed.  “I see you have your drinking buddy with you.  Will we be giving him a ride home too?”

“Ah, the Fair Cate.”  Kiefer stumbled slightly as he stepped forward, reaching for her.  Cate giggled as he captured her hand and raised it to his lips, planting a long kiss on her knuckles.  “You look radiant as always.”  Kiefer gave Cate a roguish grin.

“Yeah, right.”  Cate shook her head again as she chuckled.  She could hardly describe herself as “radiant” in a hoodie track suit, wearing no makeup.  “But thank you.”  She leaned forward to buss his stubbly cheek.  “It’s good to see you again, Kief.  I didn’t know you were in town.”

Kiefer waggled his eyebrows at Cate.  “It’s Mischief Night.  Where else would I be?”

“Hey!  Get your hands off my Girl!”  Jon playfully protested, shoving Kiefer aside and grabbing for Cate’s waist.  Swaying unsteadily, he pulled her close and nuzzled at her ear.  “I missed you, Baby.  A LOT.”

“Okay, okay!”  Cate laughed, extracting herself from Jon’s embrace.  She shot a glance across the street at the queue of paparazzi and saw they all had their telephoto-lensed cameras raised.  “We need to get moving.  Both of you:  In the car.” 

Cate watched with amusement as Kiefer pulled open the back door of the sedan and crawled in, then Jon followed him.  She gave the now-openly-laughing doorman a shrug and a smile.  “Guess I really am the chauffeur.”

“It appears so, Ma’am,” the doorman replied.  “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”  With a little wave Cate shoved the Mercedes’ back door closed then rounded to the driver’s side.  She was fully aware of the rapid clicking of camera shutters as she climbed in the car and shut the door.  With a quick check over her shoulder to ensure her charges were seated and belted in, she guided the Benz back onto the street.

“Cate, why didn’t you come to the party?”  They were only a block down the street before Kiefer piped up.  “It’s Mischief Night!  You can’t leave this guy alone on Mischief Night!”

Cate rolled her eyes before answering.  So Jon had done the woe-is-me number to Kiefer while he was crawling into his bottle or three of Pinot Grigio.  “Apparently not,” she replied with an edge of sarcasm. 

She glanced in the rear view mirror at Jon and saw him grinning back at her, his eyes sparkling and his cheeks ruddy with a flush of alcoholic warmth.  “Sorry, Kief.  I had to work today and I was exhausted when I got home.  I just wasn’t party material.”  Her tone gentled as her heart fluttered at the sight of Jon’s smile. 

Even though Jon had acted like a pouting child when he left earlier this evening, Cate knew his tipsy telephone apology was sincere.  She felt a tiny pang of guilt for not sucking it up and accompanying Jon to the party.  In her weariness she hadn’t recognized his disappointment; she had only seen selfish neediness.

 

“Ah, you didn’t miss much,” Kiefer answered, waving a hand as he grinned goofily.  “The party blew.  Thank God Jonny was there to help me find the bar.”

“Thank GOD!” Jon echoed with exaggerated agreement.  He and Kiefer exchanged a look and burst into laughter.

“Oh, Lord,” Cate chuckled as she glanced again in the rearview mirror.  “So, it was that bad, huh?”

“Yeah, your basic snobby Hollywood crowd, only relocated to the City,” Kiefer drawled.  “God, I hate my fucking job sometimes.  It’s a constant suck-fest.  All about how far up some exec’s ass you have to shove your nose to get a project green-lighted.”

“Fucking Hollywood,” Jon agreed boozily, his blonde shag ruffling as he nodded emphatically.  “Those assholes don’t know a fucking thing about fucking talent or art.  I’m DONE with that shit.”

Kiefer turned his head to give his friend a knowing grin.  “You’re just pissed because all the casting agents say you’re too short for the leading roles.”

“Ha ha. Fuck You,” Jon replied good-naturedly.  “Naw, Man. Seriously!  I’m sick of all that sycophantic shit.”

Listening to her husband’s rant, Cate couldn’t stifle a laugh as Jon slurred out “sycophantic.”  She knew the real reason he had vowed to quit acting.  Kiefer had come pretty close in his observation; Jon was not one to suffer a repeatedly-battered ego before his temper got the better of him.

“Besides…” Jon continued his argument with vigor.  “I HAD a leading role.  In that cop movie.  I got some good reviews for that one.”

Kiefer laughed, continuing to jab at his pal.  “Shit.  The only reason you got good press for that job was because you had Cate there to coach your every move.  Hell, she was working for me and she still had to babysit you through those action scenes.”

“Fuck you, Man.  I did that shit myself.” Jon argued indignantly.

“But she taught you everything.”

“Yeah, well…”  Jon paused, knowing he couldn’t disagree.  “Shut the fuck up.”

Cate laughed aloud at the conversation in the back seat.  “Thank you, Kief,” she said over her shoulder.  “I love it when somebody’s on my side.”

“Yeah, suck up to my wife,” Jon grumbled good-naturedly.  “You need a girl to stick up for you, ya Fuck.”

“That ‘girl’ you married can kick both our asses,” Kiefer pointed out.  “She oughta kick yours for being a stupid prick to her earlier.  She has a real job, not like us.  She was out earning an honest living, and she was tired, Man.”

“I know,” Jon agreed, again with an exaggerated nod.  “She should kick my candy-ass.”  He raised his eyes to the rearview mirror and grinned again as he saw Cate glance up at it.  “Or at least spank me.”

Kiefer chuckled dirtily.  “Spank the rock star.  Like that’s something new.”

“You’re just jealous,” Jon replied smugly, smirking as he settled comfortably back against the leather seat.  “‘Cause my woman’s here and yours ain’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re making yours play chauffeur, dragging your ass home from some lame-o party,” Kiefer countered.  “Instead of staying home with her and letting her spank you.”

“Okay, okay…” Cate laughed, raising a hand.  “I have a feeling any spanking happening tonight will be a purely solo act… for either of you.”

Jon pulled a fake pout, then grinned.  “Aw Baby, you know that ain’t true.”  His  voice dropped again to his sexy, persuasive purr.

Cate snorted at Jon’s confidence.  He couldn’t really think she was in the mood for naughty sex, could he?  After he dragged her out of the house to drive his ass home in Saturday night traffic?  She smirked as she replied.  

“Hmmm.  Maybe you’re right.  I’m sure Kiefer would enjoy a little change of pace.  Right, Kief?  After all, what woman in her right mind would turn down Jack Bauer?”

Kiefer grinned and shot Jon a triumphant look before playing along.  “Sure thing, Cate.  We’ll be at my place in about five minutes; you can come up for a nightcap.  I’m sure Jonny won’t mind waiting in the car for an hour or two.”

“The fuck I will,” Jon growled good-naturedly.  He knew Cate and Kiefer were teasing and he was happy to play along.  But the thought of his wife with another man… Jon shook his head to erase the unwanted image.  “Hey, I was a Secret Agent too, remember?  And I was way better than Jack Fucking Bauer.”

Kiefer barked out a laugh.  “Oh Yeah.  Sure you were.  Jack Bauer saved the damn world – seven times!  What did your guy do?  What was his name again?  Dave… Dick….”

“Dirk.”  Jon corrected Kiefer.  “Dirk Steele.  Special Agent Dirk Steele.  And he saved fucking L.A. from a nerve gas attack.”  Jon sniffed with faux-indignance before a sheepish grin curled his lips.  Even in his drunken state he realized how silly that sounded.

Kiefer listed sideways as he whooped with laughter.  “Dirk Steele!”  He mocked, then laughed again.  “Sounds like a male stripper.  Or a porn star.”  Kiefer dropped his voice to mimic Jon. “Special Agent Dirk Steele.”  He barely got the words out before collapsing into another fit of laughter.

“Yeah, Yeah.  Ass.”  Jon chortled along with his friend.  “But at least Dirk Steele got laid.  A lot.  Jack Fucking Bauer never got any, in seven fucking years.”

“Yes he did!” Kiefer challenged.  “You just never saw it on screen.”

“Oh. Riiiiiight….” Jon nodded and grinned as he drew out the word. 

Cate laughed as she pulled the Benz into a left turn, guiding it toward the building that housed Kiefer’s apartment.  “Now there’s something I never thought I’d hear… Jack Bauer versus Dirk Steele:  Who Gets More Pussy.”

“Cate!” Kiefer exclaimed, feigning shock.  “You Potty-Mouth!”

Jon grinned.  “That’s my wife.  Mouth of a sailor.”  He looked again at the rearview mirror, this time catching Cate’s glance and seeing the smile in her eyes.

“Yeah, well.  For the record, I’d do ‘em both,” Cate remarked, egging them on.

“Together?” Kiefer asked hopefully.  He waggled his eyebrows as he gave Jon a devilish grin.

Cate laughed at his playful suggestion.  “Sure.  A Special Agent Sandwich.  Yum.”

Jon chortled and shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut as his blonde locks flew wildly with the motion.  “Nooooo…. We’re not goin’ there.  HELL no.”

Kiefer elbowed Jon, giggling boozily.  “C’mon, Buddy!  You won’t share?”

Jon squinted at Kiefer.  “Fuck no!  She’s my wife!”

“I don’t mean her.”  Kiefer grinned and winked at Jon before leaning over to plant a swift, smacking kiss on his cheek.  “I mean Dirk Steele.”  He panted the words breathily.

Cate rolled her eyes as she heard the men collapse into another fit of laughter behind her.  Almost fifty and they still act like horny adolescents.  She grinned as she shook her head, then slowed the car as it approached Kiefer’s building.  

“Kief, we’re here.  Want me to drop you in front?”

“No!  You guys have to come up for a drink!”  Kiefer leaned forward and pointed at the windshield.  “Go around the corner.  The parking entrance is on the side.”

“Kief, it’s late,” Cate protested reluctantly, braking the car in front of the canopied entrance to the stately old building.

“Awww, C’mon, Cate.  Please?”  Kiefer leaned a little further forward, resting his chin on the back of Cate’s seat so that he was looking over her shoulder.  “Just one little drink?”

“Yeah, Baby.”  Jon also leaned forward, tilting his head against the back of the front passenger seat.  “Just one drink.  Please?”  When Cate turned her head in response he gave her a sexy smile then pursed his lips.

Cate looked from Jon’s persuasive pout to Kiefer’s hopeful grin and sighed.  She couldn’t stop a smile as she shook her head in resignation.  “Okay.  Just one.”