THE OPPORTUNITY

by ChicagoTunnelKid

Author’s Note: This story is a prequel to The Possibilities.

__________

Joe knew his place in the world. He was a journeyman lawyer. He worked hard, worked late, and got the job done. He also knew how to guide his staff so that his team was one of the best producing in the DA’s office. A lot of the credit was due to Cathy and her tenacious investigative talent and commitment to her work. He’d not had a lawyer like her in the office … well … ever. He nearly lost her to another job in Providence; she had accepted, then pulled out. She kept her reason to herself, just telling him that this office felt right for her, and she liked working with him. The feeling was mutual. Actually, his feelings for her would be much more, if ever he were to get the green light. But she never gave it, and he knew she never would. He would settle as having her as a good friend.

He gazed out his window. There were days when this job seemed like the boulder and he was Sisyphus trying to push it uphill. It never seemed to go very far. How long could he keep pushing? Especially now, when he had a job offer with a private firm. It wasn’t as flashy as the firm that Erika tried to entice him to in order to win a court case, but it was solid, well-respected, and a definite move up.

The office they had showed him was the size of the bullpen in this office. Leather furniture, a high-backed, leather swivel chair for the desk. The desk seemed as large as a parking space. He’d have his own secretary, and law clerks for the drudge work. And the money – well, he’d never be a Chandler, but he’d be a lot happier, and could find a larger apartment. He’d checked the grapevine on this firm and the lawyers in it, and no red flags had appeared. It seemed perfect. For some reason, that bothered him. Maybe it was the experience he’d had with Erika; once burned, twice shy.

It was late. Likely everyone else was long gone, perhaps only Cathy would still be at her desk. He could never tell. She didn’t always work late at the office, but always got a tremendous amount of work done. On the nights she didn’t work late, she seemed to have somewhere else to be. The tabloids had long since ceased carrying items on her, and he couldn’t say that she was seeing anyone, but her private life was just that – private. Still, he could use her ear, listening to his opportunity.

He turned, walked around his desk, opened the door, and peeked out. Yes! There she sat, head down, her desk lamp shining on her hair giving it a golden glow. Her pencil was moving across the page as she scribbled her notes. A jumbled stack of law books littered her desk, the one she was reading from perched precariously on top.

“Hey, Chandler? Got a minute?” He tried to sound nonchalant.

She looked up. “Well, my boss said he wanted the breakdown of this testimony by tomorrow morning, so …” She smiled. “But I guess I could use a break.” Her smile was like an arrow shot directly into his heart. He sighed.

“I got a job offer. I was wondering if you’d be your usual upfront, no-BS self and tell me what you think.” He sat on the side chair next to her desk. “Tell me,” she said. Was it his imagination, or did her face show a certain sadness that wasn’t there before?

“It’s from McDowell, Worthington, and Adams. They would bring me in as an associate partner, with full partnership available in four years, depending on my performance, of course.”

“That sounds … adequate, if not spectacular. They are a good, solid firm. They are needing to bring in some younger lawyers since the partners themselves are nearing retirement. You could end up in a solid partnership with a new coterie of lawyers that you help select and mold.”

He hadn’t thought of that, but she had a point. That’s why he needed her insights.

“How’s the money?”

“It’s a long sight better than what I get now.” He paused. “But not as much as Erika was dangling.”

“Money never seemed to be your main motivation.” She eyed him. “What kind of law would you focus on in the firm?”

“That’s the least attractive part of the offer.” He sighed, and fidgeted in his seat. “Mostly corporate law, with some trial work if corporate employees were charged and tried in court.”

“Joe, how would that be satisfying to you?” Cathy’s face showed she was incredulous that he was considering the offer. “Why are you considering leaving the DA’s office, anyway?”

He stood and paced a bit in front of her desk. Joe missed how Cathy’s face softened as she thought of someone else who paced when agitated.

“Short of Moreno falling over dead, I’ve gone about as far as I can here. And it’s becoming too routine. And I don’t have to tell you that at times it feels like I’m not accomplishing much.” He sighed and returned to the chair.

“That I can understand,” she sympathized. She leaned back in her chair. Joe wondered what was going to be lobbed his way. “If you could wave a magic wand, what would your ideal law practice be?”

Well, now. That was a question. He had to think about that. If I could do anything in the law, what would it be?

“I’ve always been tough on crime against the most vulnerable. And I hate how dirty politicians keep getting away with their corruptness. I suppose, if I could, I would do more of that. Except I don’t want to be a prosecutor, but a lawyer who pushes for justice to be done for his clients.”

He wished he understood the look on her face. Did what he just said surprise her that much?

“What?” he prompted.

“I think I know a better firm who could use your talents.”

He kept his finger on the pulse of the legal world pretty well, and he couldn’t imagine which firm she had in mind.

“Where?”

“At Chandler and Maxwell.”

For once, he was speechless.

“Where?” he squeaked out again.

“At Chandler and Maxwell. Or Maxwell and Chandler. I’m flexible either way.”

His mind was racing while she sat, cool as a cucumber.

“You and me, partners in our own firm.” He confirmed the obvious, still in disbelief.

“Yep. That’s what I said. Are you man enough to take me on as a full fledged partner, Maxwell?” She spoke in that teasing way she had.

“Starting a firm is an expensive proposition, Chandler. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“The way I see it, Joe, neither of us are into the glamorous office, although you were lured by china cups at one time,” he had the grace to blush at that, “so we can look for less expensive office space. In fact, I may have found a space, but I’ll get into that later.”

“Still, there’s a law library, staff ….” He trailed off, just thinking about the impossibility of it.

“I do have money, you know.” She smiled. “And, I know that there are grants available for the type of law practice we are talking about. You are more than capable of writing the grant proposals and schmoozing them forward, plus identifying whatever funds you do have to contribute. When the time comes, we’ll get the partnership papers completed and the proportions of partnership laid out. I suspect it will end up pretty much 50-50. You can be a terrier going after something you want!”

He laughed. “You do know me!”

He studied her a moment. “How long have you been planning this?”

It was her turn to stand and stretch her legs a bit. She leaned against a nearby credenza.

“For a while. I’ve been getting beaten down by the relentless stream of cases dealing with the worst people New York has to offer. The victims who needed more help, we just didn’t have the time and resources to give them. I found myself wanting to pick my own cases, do things my own way, but my boss wouldn’t let me.” She smiled again, taking any sting out of what she said. “I wasn’t certain when to approach you.”

He stood and walked over to her. Taking both of her hands in his, he paused. “Thank you. I know the compliment this is, being asked to be your partner. I’m honored. But I’m going to need to really give this some thought before I answer. Okay?”

“Okay.” She stood and squeezed his hands. “I guess McDowell, Worthington, and Adams is a decent alternative. I won’t hold it against you if you turn me down, either. But I can’t lie – I’d really like to do this with you, Joe.”

He nodded. “Go home, kiddo. We both have some thinking to do and might as well do it comfortably.” He let go of her hands and started to his office. “Meet you by the elevator and walk you out.”

He did as promised, seeing her safely into a taxi. “Good night, Radcliffe.”

“Goodnight, Joe.”

He watched the taxi fade from view. Well, this day has turned out much different than expected, he thought. He knew just where he kept a box of sharpened pencils in his apartment. He would be busy figuring financials for this crazy idea of hers. Unless it came out grossly uneven, he knew he would accept. He hadn’t felt this energized in years.

* * *

Cathy sat in the taxi. Well, this day has turned out much different than expected, she thought. A part of her was bone-tired, while another part was energized with possibilities. She knew she would be headed down to the threshold as soon as possible. Vincent was a large piece of this venture; he just didn’t know it yet.

She sprang from the taxi, waved jauntily at George, the security man for her building, and took the elevator to her floor. Having unlocked her door, she deposited her case on the floor next to her couch, shrugged out of her coat, laid it on the couch, and walked into the bedroom.

She changed into jeans, a warm sweater, and her running shoes. A quick brush through her hair, a stop to pick up a folder, and she was on her way down to the threshold. She guessed Vincent would know by now that she was on her way, and, as expected, he was waiting for her.

They hugged.

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” he spoke into her ear.

She pulled back. “I have something very important to discuss with you. Any chance we could stop by the kitchen for a snack?” As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

He chuckled, “I can hear how hungry you are!”

They gathered cheese and crackers and a selection of fruit to take back to Vincent’s chamber. He fixed a pot of tea, and they settled at his table and ate. Once sated, Catherine sat back. Vincent wiped his fingers, having gotten some juice from the fruit on them, and likewise sat back in his chair.

“Tell me.”

She looked uncertain. “This is going to come out unpolished, but I want you to know how much I’ve thought this through. It’s not a half-baked idea.”

“Nothing you do is ever half-baked, Catherine.” She noticed his smile at the thought. No, he knew how thorough she could be. She also knew he could feel her excitement and confidence, so certain she was about this idea.

“Tonight, I asked Joe to join me in creating a new law firm that would fight injustice for the vulnerable, and fight to make the political system work better for its citizens.” She stopped, took a breath, having rushed her announcement out before chickening out. “Joe had gotten an offer from a solid law firm and was asking for my opinion. So I had to propose my idea before he accepted his offer, otherwise my plans would be set back until I found someone else I would be comfortable working with as a partner.”

“Has he accepted your offer?”

“He’s thinking about it.” She fidgeted with her teacup. “There’s more, especially that involves you.”

“Me? How would your decision involve me, other than start-ups taking quite a bit of your time, as I understand it? I would expect to see less of you until you had things firmly in hand. But, Catherine, if this is what you want, I support your decision.”

She smiled. “You always support me, Vincent. But, no, that’s not how it would involve you.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. This was so important, she wanted to get it right.

“I’ve looked for an office space, and most were way out of range of what I want to pay. Then I got to thinking. For a while, I’ve thought about looking for a brownstone that might have a basement with potential for tunnel access. So you wouldn’t have to risk the climb to my balcony.” She glanced down a moment, before raising her eyes to his. “And, for our possible future together, we could be together safely, yet you would be connected to Below to continue your work with the community.”

Vincent sat stunned. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, and a growing desire to pace. Sure enough, he stood and began pacing the length of his chamber. Several minutes passed as he paced back and forth. Finally, he sat back down.

She reinforced her point: “It would be our chance to finally be together – really together.”

True to form, and one of the few annoying traits he had, in her opinion, he still wasn’t sharing his thoughts.

“Say something, Vincent. What do you think of the idea?”

His gaze was intense. “I see no reason why you couldn’t do this, Catherine, regardless of whether we could be together there.” His gaze hadn’t wavered. She was crestfallen by what his answer might imply. He continued. “It is our dream to be together; maybe this is a way to be in both worlds, yet create a world of our own, together.” His gaze finally dropped. She could see he was thinking carefully about what he would say next. “However, that part is our future; and I see no reason for you not to move forward for what you want to accomplish.”

Her eyes closed briefly in relief. He hadn’t said no; indeed, there was more hope than before that their dream could happen. She would take it.

She told him more of her plans, laying out how she thought the new firm could make its mark and have an impact on the city in a positive way. Vincent was swept along with her plans, adding insights that he thought would be helpful. And although she couldn’t be sure, she thought she detected a new lightness in Vincent, as if he might have accepted their future could happen.

* * *

Joe’s pencil flew over the paper, organizing what funds he had access to, and how he thought the firm could shake out between them. Was he crazy for even thinking about joining her?

Just to be sure he wasn’t being overly influenced by his crush on her, he set up another column for thoughts on the offer from the other law firm. He would definitely have a positive income stream from them, plus the opportunity to make partner in four years. He would already be a partner with Catherine’s offer. But even a half share of nothing is still nothing, and he doubted they would be earning much for quite a while. Even with grants, the salary portion is kept to a minimum to make funds available for the intended work. Did he have enough money to keep in reserve to live on, and yet make a substantial enough investment in the business?

While he had an established reputation within the DA’s office and certain criminal attorneys, he knew he did not have “name” draw. Catherine’s name being Chandler would go further, yet she had been out of corporate law for several years now, and her father’s firm had bought out her share so she was no longer considered part of that prestigious firm. Would they have enough panache to make a name for themselves to get established? It would be a risky venture.

It was getting late. Joe sat back, his eyes tired and his brain foggy from the concentrated effort to figure out which course of action was best for him. He still wasn’t sure. Time for bed. Maybe with fresh eyes in the morning, he’d get a clearer picture.

* * *

Joe beat Cathy into the office. He had stopped to pick up a cup of coffee which was now seated precariously on a stack of files as he gazed at his spreadsheet. It wasn’t any clearer. He sighed.

There was a knock on his door and Cathy popped her head into his office.

“Get any sleep?” she asked.

“A little.” His eyes betrayed him and looked down at his spreadsheet.

Her gaze followed his to the spreadsheet. “So, you’ve run the numbers. What’s your conclusion?”

He thought he noticed her holding her breath.

“The numbers say I’d be a fool not to take the offer from McDowell, Worthington, and Adams.” He stood and turned to gaze out his window. He was arguing with himself, even though he knew what the answer must be. He turned back to face her.

Her face fell. “Congratulations! I know you’ll be an asset to them.” The words were there, but her demeanor had deflated.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been known to take riskier bets, Radcliffe. So, put her there, partner.” He extended his hand toward her.

She ignored the hand and went for the hug. He held her, thinking he could get used to that, her hugging him in victories they created.

“Listen, maybe at dinner this evening we could formalize the partnership and partnership contributions and get a handle on how we will be set up.” He released her from the hug and looked anxious about the proposal.

“That would work for me.” He could tell she was thinking. “Why don’t I pick up Chinese at Pei’s and we’ll eat at my apartment? I can show you the place I’m considering and some rough plans I’ve started.”

He grinned at her. “We’re really going to do this!”

“Yup!” She grinned back.

* * *

They sat at her dining table, paperwork spread out amongst take-out containers. Joe scribbled on a legal pad as Cathy dictated. It looked like it would work best as a 60-40 financial split. Over a period of years, Joe could increase his buy-in until he reached the 50-50 split if he so desired. Both had a say in which cases the firm would take. Joe would spend more time in the operations of the firm, while Cathy would spend more time in fund-raising and grant-finding so that the firm could do the type of work they wanted. As the evening wore on, the plans got more real.

Cathy stretched out her back, leaning side to side in her chair to stretch out her muscles. Joe stood, stretched, and walked into her kitchen. She could hear some clanking and the snick of the stove being turned on. Shortly, he came out bearing a teapot and cups.

She grinned. “I had no idea how domestic you were, Joe!”

He grinned back. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to survive, Radcliffe!” He poured them each a cup, and sat down. “When do I get to see these plans for a place?”

She reached back into her case, and pulled out a folder. She spread out the papers on top of the spreadsheets and lists, and invited Joe to take a look.

He thoroughly studied the papers. “Looks like a brownstone.” He looked quizzically at her. “A brownstone for an office building?”

“I know it’s a stretch, but before you call the men in the white coats, let me explain. I’m going to be living there. It’s three floors, so the first floor would be our offices and library. The second floor will be guest rooms, and the main living quarters will be on the third floor.” She showed him some architectural renderings of the first floor as office spaces. “See, here is one office, here’s the other, down this hallway is the library, a conference room on the other side, and a bathroom at the end. This front space is a reception/waiting room area.”

“Are you sure you want to live where you work?” Joe asked. “You’ve been known to burn the midnight oil as it is.”

“Well, at least I’ll burn it comfortably and not have a long commute to bed!”

“Just where is this brownstone? I mean, is the location good for clients and city hall/court access?”

She sighed. She had picked the brownstone mostly with Vincent in mind. Business came in a distant second.

“It’s a little off the beaten path as far as the politics angle, but it will be more accessible to the types of clients I’d like to help. We’ll have to either cab it to court, or take the subway. And this neighborhood permits mixed-use buildings, so I can put in an office and have a living space.”

“We haven’t discussed the cost of the brownstone in relation to the business.” Joe looked concerned.

“Since it is going to be my home, I’m the purchaser. But, to keep things business-like, I will rent the space to the firm. You pay your half, I’ll pay mine. The building will have a separate utility setup for each floor, so utilities for the business will be separate and we can split that.”

Joe just sat in his chair. She could see a growing sense of panic in his eyes.

“Cathy, where am I going to get the money to cover my half when we won’t have that much business at the beginning?”

“I don’t plan to charge a fair-market rent, Joe. I think it is important to have a sense of separation from the business and the private home. But I’m not trying to get rich off the rent.” She leaned over to hold his hand. “I can cover it until things get stable if it’s a problem for you, Joe.”

“It must be nice to be loaded.” He moved his hand from under hers to finger his cup handle. “I mean, I knew you had money. I just never stopped to wonder how much.” He sat a moment before continuing. “It doesn’t feel like I’m bringing very much to this partnership. Maybe I should just work for you.”

“Absolutely not!” she vehemently exclaimed. “Joe, you have the contacts among the politicians and the attorneys. My contacts run more to the investigative side, and hopefully some stuffy high-dollar donors. And, let’s face it, your court strategy is much more developed than mine. You have the court time and have won a number of big cases against name attorneys. You’re the reputation of our firm!”

He looked awed that she saw so much in him and respected him so much.

“Thank you.” He spoke quietly and sincerely, looking directly at her. His future partner! He never would have guessed his career would take this turn.

“Partners?” She asked, extending her hand.

“Partners.” He affirmed, shaking her hand.

“How long do you expect these renovations to take?”

She gazed down at the plans. “That’s an issue, probably. It’s going to take about nine months. We could set up in temporary space if you want to get started before then, or …” she clasped her hands together in a gesture Joe well knew meant that she had an unpopular idea to propose. “ … we could do some more planning, send out some feelers, and stay where we are until things are closer to being done.”

He couldn’t hide his disappointment totally. The more they had talked, and he had recovered from his near heart attack at the thought of splitting the cost of the brownstone, he was getting charged by the whole idea and wanted to start. Yet, he knew they weren’t quite ready yet.

“Let’s wait until the baby is due.” He smiled. “There is a lot we can do about lining up some funding. But we’ll have to tell Moreno our plans. I don’t want it to get back to him, and I’d rather be up front. He’s always supported me in the office, so I want to do this right by him.”

“I agree.”

They both sat back.

“We’re really doing this, Joe!”

“Yup!” he said, mirroring her earlier reply to him.

* * *

Catherine hoped her conversation with Vincent would go as well as last night’s discussion with Joe. While Joe was unaware, Catherine knew that a lot of this depended on Vincent’s reaction to her plans.

She dropped her case down, and followed down the ladder. Of course, Vincent was there. He picked up the case in one hand, and wrapped his other arm around her and together they started off.

They talked of minor things until they reached his chamber. He set the case down by her chair, and held the chair out for her to sit. He went to the brazier and took the kettle off to make a pot of tea. He placed two cups on the table, with milk and lemon, and then sat down across from her.

“I have felt your apprehension coupled with excitement all morning. Tell me, before you burst!”

She took a deep breath. “I want to show you the plans to the brownstone.”

“You found a brownstone?”

“Yes. Found and bought.” She waited.

He sat absorbing the news, and sorting out his feelings about it.

“Where?”

“Not far from the Pei’s restaurant. It’s an area that is undergoing a bit of a renewal, or the start of one. Hopefully, my purchase will help encourage some other purchases, and a rebirth will continue.”

Vincent sat listening, thinking.

“I had Mouse check the maps and he identified the street as having a tunnel, and he also went underneath to where the brownstone is, and looked into an entrance, and he thought he was doable.”

Vincent still sat. His mind was racing: could he, should he, what if ….

“It’s three floors with a basement. Vincent, I’m having a false back built into the basement with a hidden door, and an elevator put in that opens with a key. So you can enter with no one knowing, and take the elevator up to the third floor, which is where we will live.”

She was looking at him. She was expecting a reaction, and he wasn’t sure what his was yet.

“The first floor will be theReception area, the offices, the library, conference room, and rest room. It will have a small kitchenette so we can have coffee and such for a break room.  The second floor will have two bedrooms, living room, and kitchen, and, of course, a bathroom. Our floor will have our master suite with bathroom, a library, a large living room, and a small room I thought might be used as a nursery.” She blushed, quickly averting her eyes.

He cleared his throat. Then again. “An elevator?”

“Yes It goes up to each floor, but, again, your access is by key, which takes you to whatever floor you indicate. There will be a stairway as well, with a door that closes on each landing. Until we have children of our own, I thought the second floor bedrooms could be used as a transition for kids coming Above to work or go to college.”

“This plan of yours assumes … a lot about our relationship.” Vincent wanted to run, to head down to the lower tunnels, the lower river where he went when he needed to think. He thought this was a perfect occasion to do that, yet he knew if he did, she might never forgive him.

He stood abruptly, and walked, or paced, about the chamber. He spared Catherine a glance and was surprised to see she wasn’t upset.

He sat back down. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I know it’s a lot to think about, Vincent. But about your earlier statement … yes, the brownstone does assume we have a future together, our dream, and I didn’t want to hide it, or deny it. It’s what I want. You have to decide if you want it, too.”

With that, she got up, gathered up the blueprints into a neat stack, and left them on the table for him to review. She made her way to his chamber entrance and looked back. “I love you, Vincent. Remember that as you do your thinking.”

**

The walk back to her threshold was long enough for Catherine to imagine the worst. And she hadn’t even brought up another matter that was important to her. She wanted to tell Joe about Vincent once they were out of the DAs office. She didn’t want to put him into an untenable spot while still a DA, because she knew how difficult it was not to follow the law and solve the unsolved crimes that Vincent committed in her name. But when they were working together, she didn’t want to keep secrets from him. And she thought he would be a good friend to them both. But from the way Vincent reacted to the brownstone plans, she was concerned he would not support her desire to tell Joe.

She was going to live in the brownstone, whether Vincent joined her or not. This was their best hope, probably their only hope to live the dream. But she needed to leave the DA’s office. The work was wearing on her, and it seemed to be a no-win job: put away a criminal, two more get off and another never gets caught. She needed work that made a difference in the lives of the people she helped. Joe would tackle holding the system accountable. She suspected she would lose him in a few years. He would run for political office and he would be good at it, and serve the people who elected him. Yes, she would live in the brownstone.

But would Vincent?

* * *

“Father?” Vincent called outside of Father’s chamber. He needed his advice, although he was fully aware he might not take it.

“Come in, come in. I haven’t retired for the night quite yet.” Father wore his patched robe over his pajamas. He was fixing presumably his last cup of tea for the night. “What can I help you with?”

“Catherine has proposed a new plan, and I would like your counsel.” Vincent sat down at Father’s table, as did Father, carrying his cup.

“I’m sorry, Vincent. Did you want a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“Tell me this plan of Catherine’s. Does it involve you?”

“Yes. She wants to open a law practice with her friend Joe.”

“That’s good news, isn’t it? She’d no longer being doing the more dangerous investigative work.” Father watched Vincent intently.

Vincent sighed. Better to get on with it. “She has purchased a brownstone that she means to convert into the law practice on the first floor, and use the other two floors for her personal use and living space.”

“And the problem?” Father’s eyebrow rose with the question.

“She hopes that it will be my home, too. The brownstone will have tunnel access, and she’s having an elevator installed, operated by a key so that I may come and go safely. She’s gone so far as to plan a room which could be a nursery on the third floor with the master suite.”

Vincent shifted in his chair – actually fidgeted, in his chair – which did not escape Father’s attention.

“Is she sure it has tunnel access? Some tunnels are deceptive in looking as if they run near a building when it is off a considerable distance. There is stone to break through, and the basement concrete.”

“She had Mouse look at the building. He said there is a tunnel and that access is reasonably feasible.”

Father sat back, looking at his beloved child, now a man.

“So, what is your problem?”

He sighed. “Her proposal assumes that we would be living together as a couple, as if we were joined.” He looked directly at Father. “You always told me that love would not be an option for me. So what is your view now?”

Father sat collecting his thoughts. Vincent worried that the longer he took, the worse it would be.

“Let me ask you, Vincent. What do you want to do?” Father leaned in and looked at Vincent’s face.

“I … I want to want to do it. If that makes sense. Yet, I question if it is right for me to do.”

“Why wouldn’t it be right for you to do?”

“That gets back to your concerns and warnings. Why do you think that?”

“Yes, well … at one time I did feel, quite strongly, that you would never be able to be in a loving relationship. More than one reason had me thinking that way,” Father admitted, “but Vincent, I no longer hold that opinion. Your’s and Catherine’s love is beautiful, and uplifts us all. She loves you, of that I have no doubt. And, I believe, you love her.” Father smiled as Vincent prepared to take affront. He held up his hand to forestall Vincent’s comment. “Yes, you love her with all that you are. And if that is true, then I see no reason for you not to be with Catherine in her brownstone.

“Actually, that is quite an inspired idea. I feel better about that than you climbing on 20-story roofs to reach her balcony. I suggest we plan your joining ceremony to coincide with the renovated brownstone.”

“You assume that I will agree. But are we ready for this big step?”

“How long will it take to remodel the brownstone?”

“Catherine thought about nine months.”

“Well, by nine months, you shall have cured your cold feet. I suggest you turn your attention to creating a romantic occasion on which to ask her to be your wife.”

Vincent half wondered if he had fallen down a rabbit hole, to hear Father encouraging him to take Catherine up on her offer, nay, even to improve upon it with a proposal!

Still … his thoughts turned to a return trip to the Crystal Caverns. He stood, planning already started. He turned at the entrance, said, “Thank you, Father.” and walked out. He missed Father’s chuckle at the picture he presented.

* * *

Joe and Catherine met the next morning and requested a meeting with Moreno. Since the meeting would be in the early afternoon, that gave them a few minutes in the morning to plan how best to tell him the news. The rest of the morning was spent working; Catherine had a deposition to collect, and Joe outlined courtroom strategies for a few upcoming cases. At last the time came, and they headed into Moreno’s office.

“It’s never good when you two come together! What’s up?” Moreno got to the point.

“We wanted to let you know in plenty of time that Cathy and I are leaving in about nine months to start our own firm.” Joe sounded a lot more confident than he was. He looked to Catherine to see if she wanted to add anything. She waited.

“What? Both of you?” Moreno looked shocked. “You can’t both leave, you are too valuable. We are finally making some headway on clearing cases. Chandler really adds to your effectiveness, Joe. Is it money? There’s not a lot, but maybe I can finagle a few more dollars your way.”

“No, John, it’s not the money.”

Catherine waded into the fray. “We both have done about all we can in this office. It’s time. We wanted you to know now so you can look for good people to replace us, and so that major cases can be planned while we are still here.”

Moreno shook his head exaggeratedly side to side. “I knew I wouldn’t have you two much longer. I just didn’t expect you to go into practice together.” He looked at each in turn. “You’ll do fine on your own.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate the long heads up. I’ll be scheduling a department meeting next week to set up the court schedule and case assignments.” He leaned forward. “You both will be working your asses off before you leave!” He sat back. “Go on, get out of here! Some of us have work to do!”

They thanked him, and left. They shut his door, and looked at each other, happy grins on their faces. “Let’s get to work!’ Joe said. Their steps looked lighter as they headed back to their respective desks.

* * *

All in all, it wasn’t a bad day, Catherine thought. The meeting had gone well with Moreno. She and Joe worked on getting their desks cleared, preparing for the onslaught promised next week by Moreno. And here she was, at her apartment door, before 8 PM! She pushed open the door, and saw an envelope on the floor with her name on it. She dropped her case and purse, shrugged out of her coat, and set it on the couch. As she picked up the letter, she could see the handwriting was Vincent’s. She took a deep breath before opening it.

Catherine,
Please come Below Saturday morning so we may speak further about your plans.
As ever,
Vincent

Not much in the note to give away his thoughts. Looked like she’d just have to wait until Saturday.

* * *

The rest of the week flew by with the workload she and Joe were assuming. They had started meeting a few minutes over the short lunch breaks they took to continue planning. Catherine had received bids from three contractors, and together, they evaluated them.

“Whoa! This remodel is going to set you back quite a bit, Chandler! Are you sure you want to put offices into a home?” Joe couldn’t believe the numbers he was seeing.

“Yes, Joe, I’m sure. I know it’s a lot, but it needs a lot. I’m hoping its value will be greatly increased as a result, even if I don’t recover all of it. Nor am I in any hurry to sell!” Her smile reassured him.

They pored through two of the three bids before their lunch time ran out. She’d left the third for another day.

Both were more than ready for the weekend. Joe actually had a date with a woman he’d met at a political function Moreno sent him to in his stead. It could turn out to be a great weekend!

“So, got any plans this weekend, Chandler? Hob knobbing with the elite?” he teased her.

“As a matter of fact, I do! I have a book I’ve been dying to read, new bubble bath for my leisurely soak as I read, and I might even break out a new wine I bought from Australia!”

He shook his head. “Way to have a good time, Radcliffe. I had hopes you might actually be going on a date.”

“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you, or I’d never hear the end of it!” She laughed. “See you Monday!”

It was going to be interesting to partner with someone who knew him so well. He smiled and called after her, “Just for that, I won’t tell you anything about how my date went!”

* * *

Catherine wasn’t certain how to dress for her meeting with Vincent, as he had given no hints in his note. She went for middle of the road, and wore a pair of nice slacks, a warm sweater, and tied a scarf around her neck. Of course, one wore comfortable shoes Below, so she wore loafers. One last check in the mirror, and she was on her way.

As the elevator lowered, she gave herself a moment to wonder what to expect. Vincent would not be angry with her, but he just may not be ready to move forward on their dream. He had once told her that a person either moved forward or back when it came to love. It made sense at the time, but now she knew that some made standing still an art! To her, they hadn’t made much forward progress. Joe’s desire to leave had moved up her own timeframe. But just because she could adapt her plans didn’t mean that Vincent was ready to adapt his. Still, she hoped.

She checked her surroundings when the elevator door opened in the basement. Moving the boxes, she opened the door, and peered down. He waited at the bottom of the ladder. She climbed down, and into a hug. That was a good omen, she thought.

“You look beautiful.” Vincent smiled his appreciation. How lovely she looks. He didn’t know why he was so nervous – he was guaranteed the right answer, as she wanted this. Still, he wanted to do this proposal in a way that gave her more than she might expect, that would show her that even if he lived in a hole in the ground, he could still put together a romantic proposal.

“So, have you looked over the blueprints to the brownstone?”

Catherine was anxious, he could feel it.

“Yes, that is one thing I want to discuss with you.”

“One thing? Is there another?” she teased him, yet she was curious. Good! he thought.

“All in good time.”

They were near the hub, and Catherine hesitated to see which path Vincent would take. Her right eyebrow raised as she watched him turn in the direction of Father’s chamber.

Vincent had caught her half-step at the junction and knew she would wonder why they were going to see Father. He thought that Father should talk to Catherine about the brownstone from his perspective, as he might have concerns she had not thought about. And if Father used his gruff exterior and created a little doubt in giving his blessing, well, Vincent thought, that would make what was to come after all the sweeter.

* * *

“Ah, Catherine! Welcome, welcome.” Father pulled out a chair at his table, upon which were spread the blueprints. “Tea?”

“Please.”

Vincent sat beside Catherine. Father finished pouring tea, and then joined them.

“This is an impressive brownstone.”

“Thank you. It will be more impressive after the renovation, I hope,” Catherine offered.

“Yes, well, it’s those renovations I wish to speak to you about.” Father pulled the basement sheet from the pile. “I understand from Vincent you plan a false wall in the basement, in front of the tunnel entrance. Yet it isn’t shown here on the paper?”

“These are the plans I showed Joe and the prospective builders. I didn’t want them asking questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. But there will be a false wall with a hidden door put in, and an elevator that can be operated by key.”

“Won’t you and your guests want to use the elevator?”

“Guests have access to the elevator on the first floor, by using the buttons. Using Vincent’s key would force the elevator to go to the second or third floor unimpeded, then return to the floor that calls it. If a guest or someone in the office needs to go to the basement, they can use the stairs or the elevator. ”

“The stairway will still be for all floors, will it not?”

“Yes, but each floor has a landing with a door leading into the floor for privacy. The second floor wouldn’t necessarily be locked, but the third floor will. As my private quarters, I don’t want guests to have free access to it.”

Vincent admired Catherine. She had clearly given this idea a lot of thought.

“Vincent tells me you were thinking of using the second floor rooms for Below guests who are transitioning to a life Above.”

“Yes, until they would be needed for other uses.”

Father raised an eyebrow in query.

“Personal reasons, and shall we leave it at that?” Catherine dared Father to pursue it with a look that advised against it.

Vincent nearly interrupted for fear that Catherine would wade into the topic of children, and he didn’t want that to happen, if ever, and certainly not before he’d had a chance to propose. He knew that Father approved, but she didn’t yet.

“What about the yard?” Father quickly changed the subject.

“It will have an eight foot privacy fence in the back with a trellis above with vines covering it, so that some light will come through but Vincent should be safe enough from prying eyes.”

“Safe enough? What about in winter when the vine dies?” Father was showing true concern.

“Father, I imagine the vine will be more of a greenery like evergreens, so that it won’t be subject to seasons. And it will provide more covering than I often have in the park at night, so I think it would be quite safe.”

Catherine looked at Vincent with grateful eyes. “Yes, that’s correct, Vincent. Plus, there will be the roof where he would be able to go in complete privacy and have the sun fully at his whim.”

“Yes, well, whims are what get him in trouble,” Father acquiesced grudgingly on that point. “What about communication with the tunnels? What if we need him for an emergency?”

“There is an old radiator system with pipes running down to the basement. Mouse looked at the old system and thought that a pipe could be rigged to go through the wall and hook up to one of the tunnel pipes. So Vincent could still have a means to communicate. But I suspect runners will also be needed, in case.”

Father sat back in his chair and considered Catherine. She really had done a lot of thinking for Vincent’s security. The few points he raised could be easily dealt with, and he was sure she would do it. He smiled, rocked forward, and stood up, leaning on the table.

“Catherine, you’ve done an admirable job. If Vincent wants to live Above, this seems to be a workable idea!”

“If you are satisfied, Father, Catherine and I will go have a picnic lunch.”

“Yes, yes, go on. I’ve got scheduling to do and now is as good a time as any!” He watched the two leave, and silently wished Vincent good luck.

* * *

Vincent walked alongside Catherine in the direction of the kitchen. Her emotions were a jumble, nothing clear was coming through. She had yet to say anything about the meeting they’d just left. Finally, he could stand it no more.

“What did you think of Father’s concerns?”

“They were valid. He seemed to accept what I had planned for them.”

“It would seem that you have achieved a small wonder, then, and ought to be happier. Yet, I don’t feel happiness clearly in you.” They entered the dining chamber. “What is troubling you?”

He stopped and picked up a picnic basket that sat on one of the tables. He gestured for her to precede him out of the dining chamber.

“Where are we having lunch?” Catherine was curious, but she was mostly avoiding his question.

“I thought by the falls. It seems to be a spot you like as well as I do.”

“Yes, that will be lovely.”

They walked on in silence. Vincent decided to try again.

“Tell me, Catherine. What upset you from Father’s visit?”

“It’s nothing, really, Vincent. I’m just tired of Father assuming I have little regard for your safety. Let’s not dampen the fun of our picnic.” She was really afraid that Father’s comment meant that Vincent was still not thinking that strongly in terms of living in the brownstone, and not living in the brownstone with her as a couple. She had gone from having such hope this morning, to being deflated, and trying to keep her game face in place.

They arrived. Vincent took out the blanket that laid on top of the food in the basket, spread it out in a flat area, and then placed the food and plates on top. He invited her to sit, did the same, and busied himself in getting the food ready to serve.

William couldn’t make bad food if he tried. Catherine always loved whatever he cooked, and today was no exception. Vincent reached back into the basket and brought out a bottle of wine and two wineglasses. He poured wine into each and then placed the bottle back in the basket.

He raised his glass, and she took the cue and raised hers.

“To your new adventure: may it be all that you wish and more.” He clinked his glass against hers, and they each took a sip.

“Thank you, Vincent. I think Joe and I will make a great team.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But what about you? Can you see yourself living there?” She asked the million dollar question and held her breath.

Vincent hesitated. “Catherine, there is nothing more that pleases me than when I can do something that pleases you.” He paused. “But this is something that I don’t think I can do.”

Her face became crestfallen, and her eyes teared up. He had better get to the good part!

“That is, I cannot live with you unless we are joined. Catherine, will you marry me?” At this, he held out a ring box that had a ring with a larger center diamond stone, surrounded by smaller diamonds.

The look on her face had changed to stunned. He waited. Suddenly, she leaned over and up on her knees to hug him as she said “Yes” repeatedly. She finally sat back, and suddenly cracked his upper arm a good one. “That’s for putting me through hell!”

“Well, it seemed to me you pretty much had everything ordained, and I wanted a little back in my control.” He smiled. “I did speak to Father. He had been so against the idea for as long as I can remember. I needed to know why.”

“What did he say?”

“Basically, that all that was behind him. His fears were unfounded as he watched us together, and saw our love was real, and deep. He loves you Catherine, if for no other reason than that you love me. He never truly thought that would happen. So we have his blessing. In fact,” as he took the ring out of the box, picked up her hand and slid it on her fourth finger, “this is the ring he gave Margaret. He passed that on to me. I’d had plans to go to the Crystal Cavern until he told me of his ring.”

For a moment, both looked at each other with happy smiles, their hands still connected. Catherine finally stood up, helped Vincent to stand, and leaned in to kiss him. It was the first real kiss they shared. And Vincent was in no hurry to end it.

* * *

It was much later, on the walk back, that Catherine admitted that she had one more serious request of Vincent.

“What would that be?” Vincent asked.

“Not right away, but eventually, I want to tell Joe about us, about Below. He’s too close a friend to keep that from anymore. He’ll no longer be in the DA’s office, so his knowing won’t put him in an ethical bind, and I think you and he could be good friends.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m sure Father will have something to say about it, too.”

“That’s all I ask, for now. Think about it.”

“Let’s go tell Father the good news, and start planning our joining ceremony!” He tugged her hand and pulled her along.

“About that,” she said, “when were you thinking the ceremony would be?” As they walked, their joined hands were swaying back and forth, in a manner that was not just the momentum of the walk. Vincent is truly happy right now!

She concentrated a moment and realized that she felt it as much as witnessed it with the hands. The Bond is gaining force within me, or Vincent is freer with his emotions. She knew he tamped down his side for reasons she was sure made sense in his head, but left her more in the dark about him while he had more insights about her. Other than the bad time with Paracelsus Below, she didn’t hide her emotions. That one time took a lot of mental energy, and she was astounded that Vincent could essentially do it all the time.

After so much wool-gathering, she realized he had not answered her question. She stopped in her tracks, and tugged on his hand to pull him back.

“Vincent, are you avoiding my question?”

He took her other hand with his right hand. “Not avoiding, just unsure what to say. Did you have a date in mind? I was thinking that perhaps we would join when the brownstone was ready.”

“Why must we wait for the brownstone?”

“My chamber isn’t well-suited for both of us, and it would take time to make it so. And as you have experienced for yourself, it’s not the most private of chambers.” He lifted her hands to kiss them. “I thought of waiting for the brownstone as a way of starting both new adventures at the same time – our being a couple, and living Above in our very own space.”

“My apartment is very private for you, Vincent. No one from Below would bother you there.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to wait to be joined?”

“Not exactly,” she admitted. How to put this delicately without overly alarming Vincent? “I was, ah, hoping that we might … be together, at least. Now that we can be together, after thinking so long that we couldn’t, I want that very much. Don’t you?” She held her breath.

He pulled her in for a big hug. He spoke into her ear. “I have no intention of waiting, Catherine. As you say, we’ve waited long enough!” He pulled back from the embrace to smile at her, and saw that she was beaming back.

They set off, again, hands swinging as they went.

He could feel her joy, and that he had a hand in creating it for her gave him such pleasure, and for himself, also. His life was rich beyond measure, and would only get more so.

* * *

Catherine walked into the office Monday morning humming softly. Joe watched from his office door, as he had caught a glimpse of her walking in and could see happiness written all over her face. He wished he had been the cause, but he suspected something else than their merger was responsible.

“What has you humming early on a Monday morning, Radcliffe? Are you that happy with the idea of partnering with me?” Joe smiled to let her know she needn’t answer.

She walked up to him and enveloped him in a hug.

“Careful, Radcliffe, or I’ll have to file sexual harassment.”

“I’ll risk it!” Catherine teased. “It’s all coming together, Joe! I’ve spoken to the contractor I want for the job, and he agreed and can start in a month! He’s reviewed the plans, and submitted them to the city, so the approval will be about the time he can start.”

She didn’t mention that, in the meantime, a crew headed by Kanin would be creating the tunnel entry and false basement wall. The contractor would never realize it wasn’t part of the original structure.

“That’s wonderful, Cathy! But I didn’t think a contractor would make you that happy. Are you not telling me something? Keeping your new partner in the dark?”

Catherine looked at him. Not for much longer, I hope! “Would I keep something from my new partner that I shouldn’t?” She punched his shoulder. “Don’t answer that!”

He exaggerated rubbing his hurt arm. “I wouldn’t dream of it! Now get to work! I’m still your boss, at least for a little longer!”

She gave him a snappy salute and went on to her desk. She put down her case, shrugged off her coat, and hung it on the coat rack near her desk. She paused a moment to gaze out her window at the city, a view she had seen countless times before, but never had it looked so full of promise, so full of life, as it did now. She briefly closed her eyes. Vincent – our future has begun – we are moving toward love!