Danielle Steel: Lightning

“Maybe you should take him on provisionally. Try working with him for six months, and see what you think about him then.”

“I suggested that to Larry and Tom, but they think it's insulting to someone of his stature. Simon isn't exactly someone you can put on probation, I suppose. But I don't know that I'm ready to make a full commitment to him.”

“Then follow your instincts. They've never served you wrong yet. I'm a great believer in that.”

“I'm a great believer in you,” he said softly as he leaned over to kiss her. He had been crazy about her for so long, and he was always torn between admiring her mind and being totally enamored with her body. It was an unbeatable combination. “What do you say we go to bed early tonight, and do some practicing for the weekend?”

“That has a lot of appeal,” she said, kissing his neck. They both knew they could still afford the luxury of making love now. There were still two or three more days ahead of them until she'd ovulate. Making love the next day would be too close and might diminish their chances of getting pregnant. It was complicated at best, but Alex was determined to overcome that, and their attempt to get pregnant wouldn't last forever. Eventually, she'd either get pregnant, or they'd stop trying and go back to making love anytime they wanted.

Sam turned off the lights in the study and the living room, and Alex followed him into the bedroom, and slowly took off her jeans, trying not to remember the briefcase she had set down in the corner. It sat glaring at her, and sensing her thoughts, Sam saw it too, and wondered if she should be working. He asked her gently as he unzipped his jeans and took his sweater off, and she shrugged. He was a lot more important to her at the moment.

They slipped into bed, between the Pratesi sheets she bought on Madison Avenue, and felt their cool smoothness on their skin, and as Sam wrapped his arms around her powerfully, she forgot anything but him as he made love to her. And even her longing for a baby was suddenly forgotten. All she could think of was him, as he held her in his arms and plunged slowly into her. They hung lost in space for an indeterminable time, aching with pleasure, and then returned slowly to earth, drifting back to reality again, as he purred softly in her arms, and drifted off to sleep contentedly as she held him.

“I love you,” she whispered into his hair, as he snored softly beside her. She lay there holding him for a long time, and then ever so gently, she shifted his weight, and settled him on the bed, as she went to find her briefcase. She knew she still had work to do, and she couldn't just lie in bed and not do it. She sat quietly in the room's big comfortable chair, poring over files, and making notes for the next two hours. Sam never stirred, and Annabelle woke up once, and Alex went to her and got her a drink of water. She lay next to her for a little while, and held her close to her, until she went back to sleep and Alex could go back to her own room, and continue working.

She worked until one o'clock, and then she stretched and yawned, and put the files back in her briefcase. She was used to doing this. She got a lot of her work done at night, when it didn't interfere with anyone, and she could concentrate in the silent apartment.

Sam only stirred for an instant as she climbed back into bed next to him. He had never known she was gone, and when she turned off the light, she lay next to him, thinking about him, and about Annabelle, and about her trial the following week, and the new client she'd seen that day, whom she'd decided to decline, and the English prospective partner Sam had talked to her about. There was so much to think about, and to do, sometimes she almost thought it was a shame they had to waste time sleeping. She needed every hour she could get to do all that she had to do. She couldn't afford to give up a moment. But finally, in spite of everything on her mind, she drifted off to sleep beside Sam, and she was still dead to the world when the alarm went off the next morning.

Chapter 3

Her day began, as it always did, with Sam waking her up, usually with a pat and a kiss, the radio was always on, and like most mornings, she was exhausted. Each day seemed to spill over into the following one, and she was usually tired from the endless demands on her, and the relentless stresses at the office.

She got up slowly, and went to wake Annabelle, who sometimes woke before they did, but this time she hadn't. She stretched sleepily when Alex kissed her awake, and Alex slipped into bed with her, and they giggled and talked until Annabelle was willing to get up. And then Alex took her to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her hair, and her teeth, and then they went back to Annabelle's bedroom to pick up something for her to wear to nursery school. This morning's selection was a little outfit Sam had picked up on his last trip to Paris, it was denim with pink gingham trim, with pants, a little pink gingham shirt, and a matching jacket. It looked adorable on her with little pink high-top sneakers.

“Boy, you look cute today, Princess,” her father said admiringly, as Alex dropped her off in the kitchen for breakfast. Sam was already sitting there, shaved, showered, and dressed in a dark gray suit and a white shirt and navy Hermes tie, reading the Wall Street Journal , his bible.

“Thank you, Daddy.” He gave her cereal and milk, and put some toast on for her, while Alex went to shower and dress. They had the routine fairly well organized and were both flexible. When Alex had an early meeting, Sam did it all, and vice versa. This morning, they both had time, and Alex had already volunteered to take Annabelle to school. It was only a few blocks away, and she wanted to make up for the frenzy of the following week when she knew she couldn't.

Alex joined them in the kitchen forty-five minutes later, just in time to grab a cup of coffee and a piece of leftover toast. By then Sam was explaining the principles of electricity to Annabelle and why it was dangerous for her to stick a wet fork in the toaster.

“Right, Mommy?” Sam looked to her for reinforcement and she nodded and concurred as she glanced at the New York Times and saw that Congress had slapped the President on the wrist, and one of her least favorite superior court judges had just retired.

“At least I won't have to worry about him next week,” she said cryptically, with toast in her mouth, and Sam laughed at her. She had never been at her most coherent in the morning, though she made an enormous effort for their daughter.

“What are you up to today?” Sam asked her casually. He had a couple of important meetings with clients, and a lunch at “21” with the Englishman, which might shed a little more light on the situation.

“Nothing much. Friday's my short day,” she reminded him, but he knew. “I'm meeting with one of the associates to prepare for my trial next week. And then I've got a routine checkup at Anderson's, and then I'll pick Annabelle up and we're off to Miss Tilly's.” Annabelle's favorite day of the week was when she went to ballet school at Miss Tilly's. It was adorable, and Alex loved taking her, which was one of the reasons why she left her office early on Fridays, to be with her.

“Why Anderson? Something happening I should know about?” He looked concerned, but she didn't. Anderson was her gynecologist, and he was shepherding her through their attempts to have another baby.

“No big deal. I'm due for a Pap smear, no biggie. And I wanted to discuss the Serophene with him. It's a little hard to preserve my sanity, and my career, and still take the doses he's recommending. I was wondering if I should take less, or more, or what, or give it a rest for a while. I don't know. I'll let you know what he says.”