I didn’t listen to my inner self; I knew when Danny called and insisted we attend the release party, I should not go.  We had only been back in London for a few days so the invite did come as quite a shock.  I told him to go without me, I still had jet lag, but he moaned and groaned about not wanting to go alone and I acquiesced, telling him to fetch me at 8.

As I stood in front of the hotel mirror, checking my appearance, my stomach did a 180.  I was not sure how I was going to feel seeing Paul after a year.  We had parted with a lot unsaid, mostly on his part, since I refused to see or speak with him.  Finding a strange female in your bed with your boyfriend was nothing that needed discussing.  I had known when he was on tour ‘things’ happened, and as much as it pained me, I tried to rationalize the temptations.  But to arrive home, tired from work, arms full of groceries, to find the man you adore with someone else, is an agony I would never inflict on anyone.  I didn’t even collect my belongings.  I left that night and went home to the States, and we had never spoken since then.

Danny had been a good friend.  I always knew he wanted more, and when I was feeling undesirable and unable to hold a man, he swooped in, and we had been together ever since.  I knew I wasn’t in love with him.  I loved him, but never wanted to hurt the way I did loving Paul.  The price was too dear. 

My black leather mini and long sleeve silky shirt looked perfect, my dark hair hanging to almost to my waist.  I wore knee length boots, and thought I could certainly blend in with the London chic. 

Danny’s key in the door told me to grab a wrap, and as I greeted him, he let out a loud whistle.  “Wow, girl, you look incredible.  Hope that is for me,” I looked at him sharply and breezed out the door; I had enough on my plate, I did not need his paranoia piled on.

It was a short drive to the dinner for the release of Sgt. Pepper, the new Beatle album being touted as the most inventive music in the last 20 years.  As we entered the home where the party was being held, several people greeted me warmly, asking where I had been.  Danny, his arm tightly about my shoulders, walked us about, talking with folks, making contacts, glad to be back in the London action.

Danny and I both worked for EMI, and when he was transferred to the States I had been a bit relieved, knowing how he felt about me.  Then when Paul and I fell apart, I called him and he had me moved to be a part of his team in New York.  At the time I just needed to go and did not realize I was probably jumping from the frying pan into the fire.  Danny was extremely possessive, and for the past few months I was just too tired and lonely to protest. 

He was speaking with a former colleague and I desperately needed a drink and approached the buffet table.  I had just popped a shrimp in my mouth when someone swooped and planted a kiss on my cheek.  I jumped and turned to see John, grinning through round, gold glasses.

“I’ll be damned, it is fuckin’ fantastic to see you!” He pulled me into a bear hug and I have to admit it felt wonderful.  John, being Paul’s closest friend and music partner, had always been good to me. We had a special bond, and he had been one of the people I missed the most. 

I buried my face in his neck a second longer then necessary.  “Good to see you too,” I smiled into his handsome face.

“Shea you look incredible, scrumptious, good enough to eat.  Maybe later?”

John was always being suggestive; that was John and I laughed, “You never know.  So I hear this album is going to blow the music world out of its water.” And we chatted on for another few minutes.

George and Rings were across the room, looking for John and when they spied him with me, both bolted over and I got similar greetings.  It did feel good, but I knew the hardest event was still to come.

Danny, watching my interaction, was suddenly by my side, but the guys just ignored him and kept him from standing next to me.  I got quite a giggle, knowing they did not care for him at all. 

John, his arm draped around me feeding me another shrimp, glanced up and I saw an unclear expression cross his face.  I followed his gaze and my heart clinched in my chest.  Paul was across the room, a blonde woman hanging on his arm, taking in his mates and his ex clowning about.  He did not look amused, but wiping on his PR face started toward us.  I tried to move but John would not let me even as I glared at him.

He pleaded ignorance and I knew he was going to make me face him, right here, right now.  Paul in black slacks, white shirt and stripped jacket looked incredible and as we stared at one another, there was a deep sadness in his amazing eyes.  Danny, really getting pissed off, tried to get around John who looked pointedly at him and told him to “Fuck off!” Danny flinched and moved away.

“Hey, mates,” Paul said cheerily, “Some shindig huh?” 

George and Rings nodded. John, expressionless, said, “Paul, friend, let me introduce you to Shea...”

“John,” Paul said testily, “you need to stay out of this.”

“Fucking right, but you need to deal with it.” John looked at the blonde hanging on Paul’s arm, clueless.  “Come here luv, let me show you the talented part of Lennon/McCartney.” And he led her away.

It was if the room was suddenly silent, no one around, only Paul and me.  Shit, I will not cry; I have been steeling myself for this moment for 12 months; emotions don’t fail me now.  Paul reached out his hand but I stepped back and it balled into a fist.  “Shea, you look wonderful.  When did you get back?” 

His voice always made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.  No, not any more, stupid.  “Monday.  Danny and I will be working out of the local office here for the next few months.”  I was silent, looking around, waving at several people who greeted me. 

Paul was not amused.  “We need to talk,” he finally said and I rested my gaze on him, coolly.

“Why? What do we have to talk about?”

“Shea, come on, you never gave me a chance.....”

“A chance to explain why that little bimbo from Apple was in your bed?  Gee, did she twist an ankle or something?  I am so sorry if I jumped to the wrong conclusion,” I hissed, watching him reel at my bluntness.

“Your belongings....” he started.

“Give them to charity, there is nothing I want.  Nothing.” I had to keep him from seeing how much pain he was causing me.  Looking into his face, his eyes, I wanted to toss myself into his arms and never leave.  Damn it to hell, why did he still have that affect on me? 

I put down the plate I was holding and started away but he grabbed my arm and propelled me toward a terrace, and suddenly we were outside in the cool night air.  I was furious and whirled on him, but he wrapped me tightly against him, crushing his mouth on mine.  I fought, momentarily, then his mouth, his tongue, and his smell made my body betray all the feelings I thought I had in place. 

I moaned as my arms started around him…then, finally, my senses returned and I shoved him back.  “Don’t you EVER do that again!” I narrowed my eyes.  “You have no rights.”

Paul was flushed and I noticed his trousers were a little tighter in the crotch area.  Good, at least I still got to him.  “Shea, I love you.”

“Don’t, for God’s sake, do not say those words to me.  You have no idea what love is.  You think love is doing laundry, making dinner and screwing.  And that means you screwing anything that will allow you, me home doing the cooking and laundry.  Sorry mate, this fool finally wised up.  It would suit you to grow up and take a good look at yourself.  You may not be very happy at what you see, and it is damn sure Mother Mary would not be!” I knew that would hurt, and bingo it was right on the mark.  “Now, excuse me, please.”

He stood back and let me pass.  I went inside and promptly to the ladies room, where I locked myself in a stall and cried.  I didn’t give a damn who heard me, as long as it was not Paul.

Once I got myself together, I wrote Danny a note and gave it to a waiter, and asked him to give it to him after I was gone.  I was out front trying to hail a taxi when John found me.

“Come ‘head luv, I’ve got a car over here.  I’ll get ya home.” Arm in arm we walked to his Rolls, good old Les behind the wheel.  He leaped out and hugged me, then did his chauffeur duties and we were off. 

John lit a ciggie after rolling down the window a crack, remembering how I hated the smoke.  He handed me a handkerchief, and that was when I broke down again.  Huddling against John, the familiarity of the situation, was comforting in a strange sort of way.  I’m not sure how long I cried, but finally I leaned back and said I had better wash the hanky and get it back to him. 

John laughed. “Only you would worry about that, luv.  Damn, I have missed you girl.  Are you back for good?” 

I shook my head. “I thought maybe but after tonight, John, I can’t see him.  I just can’t,” and the tears came again.

John groaned, pulling me back in his arms.  “Girl, where in the hell is all the fluid coming from?”  Poor John never knew how to deal with emotional women.  “If you love the bastard, then forgive his ass and go home.  He has been almost unbearable since you left.” 

I gave John a scathing look. “It is a little more complicated then that.”

He laughed, drawing deeply on his ciggie; “Naw, you women make it more complicated.  We men are bastards; philandering bastards, and you ladies want more from us then we can give.  We cannot be faithful with girls dropping their knickers every time we turn around. It just can’t be done.  Why can’t love and security be enough?” 

Dear John, that summed him up in a heartbeat.  He had a heart of gold but would not be denied anything, it was his right to fornicate and plunder and no one was going to take that away.

At least he was honest, something Paul knew nothing about.  He wrapped all the love and happiness bullshit in one adoring package as long as you looked past his one little flaw, fidelity.  If she were young and willing and, of course, pretty, he would be very obliging. 

I closed my eyes thinking of the times we lay in bed and planned our future.  Bastard! How could be hold me, tell me his innermost thoughts, but not keep his dick in his pants?

We arrived at the hotel.  John offered to come up with me, and once we were inside I fixed him a drink.  We danced around the topic of Paul and discussed the album and others goings on at Apple.  I was curled up on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine, when John leaned over and kissed me full on the lips.

“John, knock it off.  I am not in the mood.” I snapped, used to his usual crap.

“Cyn and I are separated,” he confessed, and that made me sit up.

“And you think…you…and me? No way.”

“Shea, no, I just felt badly about what you went through tonight.  I know I am a shit but not that bad of a shit.  But we could go out sometime.  As friends, and I think that would make Macca insane.” The gleam in his eyes made me laugh.

“You are speaking about your best friend, shame on you.”

John squeezed my hand, “No, shame on him for treating you the way he did, especially with that slag.”  John always one to speak his mind.

“But John, didn’t you just tell me I shouldn’t expect fidelity from a man, any man?” 

“Yeah, typical Lennon bullshit.  I talk a good talk, but truth be told I think the right woman could keep a man faithful.”

“Yep, so guess I am not the right woman for him.” I spat.

John grabbed my chin, making me look into his face, “Missy, try putting yourself in our shoes, or trousers, so to speak.  Think of all sorts of attractive men coming at you night and day offering anything you want, anywhere, anytime.  Just how strong could you be?  What about the birds, shouldn’t they be held accountable?”

“Of course they should, sluts are sluts, but you wise, talented men should know better when you have a woman who loves you and would die for you.  A piece of ass should not be able to replace it.”

John knew we would never see eye to eye and backed off.  As he was refreshing his drink, the door opened and Danny came in, glaring at the two of us.  He was getting on my last nerve.

“So what the hell is your problem?” I asked, not wanting another altercation.

Danny tossed his keys on the table, “What the hell is he doing here?” he demanded.  John just stirred his drink, an amused smile on his face.

“I asked him here.  Last time I checked, I pay half this room bill so we will stay on my half of the room!”

“I think he should leave.  We need to talk about you and Paul,” he started.

“Excuse me, there is no ‘me and Paul,’ and John is not deaf.  If you have an issue with him, I suggest you speak to him, not me, or did you leave your balls at the party?” Yeah, I can be as subtle as John, think that was why we always got along so well.

Danny bristled as John let out a howl of laughter, “Shea I think you owe me an apology, right now.”

Okay, that was my last nerve.  I turned to John. “Are you still at home or staying at the flat?”

“The flat,” he grinned, catching my drift.  “Want me to get your luggage luv?”

I walked over to my room and opened the door, “Let me pack a few things, and then that would be lovely.  Danny, you can get the address from the office.  I will see you in the morning.”  I stopped.  “That is, if I still have a job?”

Danny was frantic, “Shea, please, I am sorry, just sit down and let’s talk.  I just get crazy with jealousy, seeing you with Paul, coming home and finding John here....”

I raised a hand up, “Save it.  I have had enough.  I was stupid to leave one asshole and cling on to another one.  I need to be with just me.  Try and understand that.  I am exhausted.”

“But you won’t be with just you, you are moving in with John!” he wailed.

Looking at the ceiling, I had to stop my fists from smacking him in the mouth.  “I am taking a room at a flat with plenty of them.  I am not with John.  John is my friend.  I know it is difficult for you men to understand, but a woman can have a male friend without fucking!”

Danny reeled at my language, and ran over trying to grab my arms, trying to get me to go in my bedroom and talk with him.  I looked over his shoulder to John for help and he was more then happy to oblige, lifting Danny up and slamming him against the wall.

“Danny, mate, think the lady wants to go.  It would be wise to stand aside.” John wanted him to move, he was baiting him to move, but Danny, rubbing his sore shoulders, barely breathed.

I hadn’t unpacked much, so I tossed in a few things and John picked up my two bags.  As I slipped my shawl around my shoulders, I stopped in front of Danny and laid a kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you for being there when I needed someone.  It was unfair to you to think I could give more then I am able.  For that I am sorry.  You deserve someone who loves you totally, Danny, and that will never be me.”

I trailed John down the three flights and as we exited the hotel, Les pulled right up and we hopped inside the car.  I lay back against the fine leather, a mixed bag of feelings rolling over me.  Shit, would I have a job in the morning?  Had I walked out on Danny for good?  Yeah, I could not go back, he had been a means to an end.

I turned and stared at John, who had an awfully smug look on his kisser.  “What is that face for?  Jesus, I may be unemployed!”

John tweaked my nose, “If he is that stupid, then you will work for us.  Just wait and see.”

“Oh, perfect, leave Danny and work for Apple and see Paul daily.  Gee, shall I just find the nearest bridge and take a dive?  It would be easier and quicker then that painful death!”  I slapped my head several times against the seat, trying to knock some sort of sense into it. 

“God, you women are dramatic!  Does everything have to be explained immediately?  Why can’t you have a wait and see attitude?”

“Never will happen!” came Les’s voice from the front.  John and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.  Guess the battle of the sexes was alive and well!

That night I was ensconced in the ‘secret’ flat, at the far end, away from John.  I had stayed there once before, only for a few days, when Paul wore me down and I moved in to Cavendish.  I loved that house.  We worked so hard to make it a home.  The bastard, the damn selfish bastard, defacing it the way he did.

I took a shower and slipped on a colorful caftan then went to the well-stocked kitchen for food.  I was starving; I’d only had the two or three shrimp from the buffet table.  I put on the kettle, having missed English tea a great deal, then toasted some muffins and went for the strawberry jam I knew would be in the cupboard.

John apparently smelled the toasting and came wandering out in his T-shirt and briefs.  “Wonderful,” I groaned as he grinned.

“Hey, it’s me house too and this is how I like to walk around.  Sue me.”  He sat at the table and grabbed my muffin; I glared and put in two more.  He swallowed and looked at me, “Feel free to walk about in your bra and panties, I won’t mind at all.”

“Cute, like that will happen, you pervert!”  I slathered jam on and took a bite.  “Cuppa?” I asked, already knowing the answer.  I fixed it like I knew he wanted it and laughed inside that I remembered.

We ate and drank in silence until John reached over, rubbing my hand with his.  “Brilliant having you here, gurl.  I missed your face a lot.  Needed a good friend to burden.”

I smiled. “You have three that I know of besides Neil and Mal.”

He shook his head. “Naw, they think I am daft leaving Cyn.  Maybe they are right, but I haven’t been happy a long time.  And I was making her miserable.  No atmosphere for a kid to grow up in.” He seemed wistful and I was not sure what I could say to that.

We stayed up talking and watching the telly and I was not sure when I fell asleep, but woke up under the covers in my bed.  I knew John was never up before noon, so I dressed and headed over to EMI to see if I was still gainfully employed.  I went directly to my office, checked some messages and was stunned to have three from Paul begging me to meet him at a pub we use to visit quite often on our walks around St. John’s Wood. 

I tossed all three messages in the wastebasket and was thumbing through a contract I had ordered, when Danny walked in dressed to the nines.  I waited and when he smiled I relaxed a bit.

“So what are you all spiffed up for?” I asked pulling off my reading glasses.

“Got a meeting with a couple execs.”  He stopped and leaned against my desk, “Sorry about last night, I was acting like an asshole, think a combo of two Beatles, lots of drink and jet lag.  Am I forgiven?”

He did look sorry and I nodded. “Sure, but I am staying put,” I warned. “Are we okay here?  I don’t want to leave, but if you can’t work with me I understand.”

“Hell no, Shea, I need you here, I would be lost without you.  I want you at home too but we will work on that.  For now I will take what I can get.”

I had nothing to add to it; I knew I would not go back to him.  It had become painfully clear last night I did not love him, maybe heavy like at best.  My poor heart was still entangled with Beatle Paul and I had to work quickly to find an antidote.

***

I was amazed how quickly the day went, and as I walked out front looking to hail a cub or possibly hit the underground, Les pulled up, smiling.  I leaned on the window. “And how did you know when I would be leaving?”

“John sent me a while ago.  I’ve just been reading.  Hop in, Missy, think the boss has ordered dinner.”  I slid into the front seat next to Les, making him laugh out loud, and we talked all the way home.

Opening the door to the flat, the heavenly smell of curry hit my nose and I squealed, yelling for John.  He was in the kitchen with an apron on, making me stop short as he turned and gave me the ‘don’t you laugh or else’ look, and I covered my mouth.  “You ordered from Khan’s!” I accused as he grinned. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

John had set the table with one rose and a candle and motioned for me to sit down.  “I know a lot about you, Missy.  Now eat, before it gets cold.” 

We dived in and John rolled his eyes as I moaned and groaned at how good it was.  “Girl, I don’t get this much moaning in the bedroom.”

He shook his head and I could not help but add, “Then you had better starting serving curry,” as I dodged a slice of bread coming directly at my head.  Finally after I filled my plate for the second go around, I swabbed some sauce and looked over at John, “So how did I get into bed last night?” I asked, one brow up.

He wagged his. “I took ya, and no worries, your virtue is intact.”

“Good thing, I would hate to think I could sleep through something like that.”

We were finishing up when the front door opened, and without warning, Paul was standing in the kitchen door looking at us like we were from another planet.  At this point, I wished I were on any other planet but here. 

“This sure looks cozy,” he said sharply as I got up, taking our plates and dipping them in soapy water.  John blew out the candle and carried over some other dishes.  “Any left?” Paul asked, walking around looking at the cartons.

John glanced over at him. “Not much, but help yourself.  I’ve had my fill.  You, luv?” He elbowed me, watching Paul bristle.

“Yes, thank you.  John, it was wonderful and so thoughtful,” I kissed him on the cheek and finished rinsing a plate.

The phone rang and John went off to answer it.  The silence was deafening.  Paul picked at one of the cartons before looking at me.  “I rang and asked you to meet me.”

I didn’t turn. “Yes, I believe I got a message or two.  Sorry, I was busy all day, and John was making dinner.”

“You could have called me back.  I waited all day.”

He sounded hurt, and God help me, I was happy.  “I thought I told you last night. We have nothing to say to one another.”  I wiped my hands on the dishtowel and turned to lean against the sink.  It was torture to look at him; he was in jeans with a T-shirt, his dark hair hanging way over the collar.  I had the hardest time ignoring his mouth. God, did I want to kiss him.

“I disagree, we have a lot to talk about.  Please Shea, it is important.  If...”

I raised up a hand. “Do not say ‘if you ever loved me’ because I will not be responsible.”  Paul sighed, finishing the chicken curry and tossing the container in the trash.  He didn’t move, just looked at me, making me squirm, and that was making me angry.  “Okay, okay, I will listen, and then you will go.”

I walked out of the kitchen; John was sitting watching the telly and gave me the royal wave, so I headed to my room, Paul on my heels.  He shut the door and proceeded toward the bed.

“Excuse me, there is a chair, and you will sit in it.”  I sat on the bed, Indian style, arms folded.  Paul stopped turned and collapsed in the chair across the room from me.  At least I had a bit of control.  Silence.  I waited.  “I thought you wanted to talk.”

He shifted a bit, “I don’t want to shout across the room,” he grumbled.

“You talk from there or don’t let the door hit you on your way out.  Paul, I am losing my patience.  If you think being here with you is easy, think again.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. “Shea, I know what happened is inexcusable.  I am not even sure why it happened, except that I am weak, but being without you has put everything in perspective.  I love you; I need you in my life.  Please can’t we try again.  I give you my word...........”

“Ah, wait please, I have been away from London for one full year, living in New York, and not once, not once, did you come there to try and see me.  You do not speak to me for one full year, and you need me in your life?  I think you are just going through a dry spell.” My eyes blazed with anger.

Paul looked totally confused, “Shea, I called you ten times a day, I showed up twice in the city and was told you were gone.  Didn’t Danny ever tell you how often I talked to him about us?”  Danny?  That son of a bitch, he swore to me he never heard from or saw Paul, ever.

“So what?” I exploded. “Paul, you brought someone into our home.  We made that our home, we had long term plans, and you brought someone in there who didn’t give a shit about anything but bagging a Beatle, and gee, you accommodated her, how thoughtful!”  I got up, pacing around, trying like hell to keep the tears from flowing, “I loved you, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I wanted to have children with you.  I knew what you did on the road.  I am not a moron.  But I prayed that once we settled down and you stopped touring, you would gain some sense.  That is how stupid I was.  I don’t want to live with someone I don’t trust.  I want to know when you go somewhere I don’t have to worry whom you are bedding down.  I had no desire for anyone else but you, no one.  How could you be with me, and then screw someone else?  Make me understand.” I was almost hysterical, all the memories washing over me making me crazy again.  Damn it, I promised myself that this was all out of my system.

I saw him get up, approaching me, and I backed away, but he was like a cat and pounced, pinning me to the comforter.  Having him this close was making other senses reel.  I closed my eyes, not able to look at him, and whimpered, “Please stop, you are killing me.”

He released my arms and sat aside, and as I turned my head in his direction, I saw the tears on his cheeks.  He buried his face in his hands and sobbed, shocking me to my very core.  My hand reached out and I stroked his leg, “This will not help, believe me I know.  Paul, please, this is a no-win situation.”

He wiped his face on the back of his arm, his eyes blurry but blazing, “I know you still love me, I can feel it.  You would not be this upset if I meant nothing to you.  Shea, tell me you don’t love me, tell me right now and I will walk out and we will never speak again.”  He did not take his eyes from mine. 

I had known him three years now, and never once did I lie to him.  I hated liars, but sitting here, in the amount of pain I could barely fathom, I did lie.  I sat up and said coolly, “I do not love you anymore.  I purged you from my system.  Danny and I are together, and I am very happy.”

He jumped back almost as if he was physically hit.  “Then why are you staying here?” he demanded.  Shit, think fast.

“I hated the hotel, it was way too noisy, and Danny has some traveling to do, so John suggested staying here.  Filled my needs for the time being.”  Whew, not bad.

Paul processed it all and slowly stood up, the pain in his face only a portion of what I had suffered through the past year.  “Well, I guess that’s it.  I will keep my word.” Tears were pooling again and he blinked rapidly, “Have a good life, Shea, you deserve it.” And he was gone.

I heard the front door slam.  I sat on the bed feeling nothing for the longest time, then his face flashed before me; the tears he shed, and I broke down, burying my face in a pillow to keep John from hearing. 

I should have known he would be hovering, though, and not long after the door shut, John was in my room, looking hopeful.  One look at my shell-shocked face, and he knew it was anything but hopeful.  He sagged beside me, rubbing my back, telling me it was okay.  It damn well was not, and never would be.  I had finally cut the cord, something I thought I wanted and now was not so sure.

He asked what happened and I told him, almost word for word.  John was quiet, “Shea, I have never known you to lie.  What possessed you?  You two are amazing together, that may have gotten you back with one another.” 

But I kept shaking my head. “I can’t, I don’t know if I could ever trust him.  If I told him I was still in love with him, he would never leave me alone.  John, why does this hurt so badly?  Why did the son of a bitch have to come here?” I buried myself against him until I was so spent I could barely utter a sound.

John always had a hard time with emotions, but like a good soldier he stayed with me, trying to say all the right things.  He must have remained until I fell asleep and I woke up again, under the covers, alone.

The next few weeks I dove into work, putting in 12- to 14-hour days so that when I arrived home, I ate a little and then fell into bed.  I confronted Danny, who feigned innocence and then finally admitted he had told everyone at the company to run interference to protect me.  I knew he had other motives, and he knew I knew, and we left it at that.

Okay, Paul tried to reach me, but if he really wanted to he could have.  It was an easy way to let things die down; then he could swoop in and reclaim his territory.  Not this gal.

John was a good friend, and we went out to eat, hit a few films and stayed at home watching the telly and talking.  He apparently was seeing someone, which he did not elaborate on, and I didn’t ask.  He was not my responsibility, so I figured it was none of my business.

About a month after my altercation with Paul, John and I went to a club to listen to a band and as we sat sipping drinks, I glanced around to see him coming down the stairs, the blonde from the release party following.  I felt as if someone punched me in the gut, but looked back at the stage, pushing everything down deep.

John leaned over and whispered something about some bird with big knockers dancing near the front and I giggled; out of the corner of my eye, I could see Paul notice us.  I cozied up to John, and made some inane remark that had him looking at me like I was mad.   He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs and looking about, finally seeing Paul.  His eyes rolled back to me and I tried to look innocent.

John allowed a small smile to curve his lips as he slipped his arm behind my chair, moving closer.  Okay, now he was getting into the torture.  I should have felt guilty for pitting mate against mate, but it was war and I was taking no prisoners.

We stayed a bit longer, then John signed the check and we headed toward the exit.  Paul jumped up, blocking our path.  “Hey,” he said, looking at John, “good band, aye?”

John nodded, “Not bad, had enough now.  We are going home.  Ready, Shea?”

I was watching Paul, who was trying very hard to look through me.  Suddenly, the blonde was right there. “Paul, I’m lonely.” She smiled at John, “Hi, John do you remember me?”

John squinted, then shrugged, “Nope.  Should I?”

She pouted, slipping her arm through Paul’s, then set her green eyes on me, “Who is she, Paul?”

Paul blinked and was forced to make eye contact with me. “This is Shea.  Shea, this is...” I could tell his mind went blank.  I knew why, seeing me, but the look on the girl’s face more then made up for it as she stalked away, Paul fleeing after her.  John and I started laughing and hurried away to avoid any further interaction.

***

The guys had a trip planned for some mystical retreat in India, something George was deep into, and they had been gone only a few days when I got the phone call.  Brian, their manager, had been a little despondent lately, and when no one could rouse him, Alistair had been summoned only to find him in bed, dead.  Everyone was panicking, worrying the news would leak before the Beatles could be told.  Danny burst in with the news, and I dropped on my chair, thinking of Brian, so strong but so insecure and unhappy.  I hoped he was at peace.

“Shea, do you have a number to reach any of them?” Danny demanded, bringing me out of my private thoughts.

I racked my brain, “Yeah, John did leave me one.  Now, what did I do with it?”  I plowed through my bag and retrieved the crumpled piece of paper.

Danny did not take it, but continued to look at me, “Would you call?  I’m not just not good at delivering bad news.”  Coward, I thought, but nodded yes and went to the phone.

It took forever to make someone understand I needed to talk to one of the Beatles, and finally there was rustling on the end of the line and, of course, I heard Paul’s voice.

“Paul?” I barely got the one damn word out.

Silence, then, “Shea what’s up?  What’s wrong?”  His voice sounded sharp, and as gently as I could I told him what we knew.  More silence, then a loud sigh.  “Fuck, I can’t believe it.  You’re sure?”

No, I called for a joke, I thought bitterly, but I knew he was just in a state of shock.  “Of course.  I am so sorry.  I know how much he meant to you all.  When will you return?”

He said he would talk with the others and ring me back and hung up the phone.  I sat there holding the receiver for several moments before I remembered Danny was standing there watching me.  “They will call with arrival instructions,” I said softly and excused myself to the ladies’, where I tried desperately to pull myself together. 

The funeral was awful; Brian’s mum and brother inconsolable, the guys pale and in a state of shock.  As much as I ached for Brian, the practical side of me knew this was a monumental turning point.  He had been their anchor, he was their voice of reasoning and that voice had been silenced.  This was a foursome of huge egos, especially John and Paul, and Brian had been the one to keep them in check.  In my heart of hearts I knew there was going to be a power struggle internally and was not sure if the unit could stand such an assault.

Back at the house, there were lots of tributes, and as I carried dishes to Queenie’s kitchen, I turned to find Paul standing behind me, his eyes strangely empty.  It was odd to feel so tender toward him with all the anger I had mustered the past year.  I reached up to tug at his new mustache, which I quite liked, and did not pull away as his arms drew around me.  He buried his face in my shoulder and we just stood there gaining comfort from one another.

Finally he pulled back and mumbled, “Sorry, I did promise.”  But I shook my head leading his head back down, rubbing his back.  I’m not sure how long we stood there, our hearts beating steadily against each other, when John walked in, looking equally as strained.  If he was surprised, he hid it well; just fixed another drink and took a huge guzzle.

Paul looked at his mate, grabbed the glass and gulped, smiled at me and left.  I sagged back against the sink, his feel and smell permeating my entire being.  Dear God, would I ever not love him?

John looked at me over the rim of the glass.  “Gurl, you need to get over all this shit and move on.  There are few times in life you get to feel something like you do.  Don’t fuck it up because of pride.”

I processed his words; was it just pride?  No, Paul had betrayed me in the worst possible way.  Could I forgive that betrayal?  I knew I couldn’t completely forget.

The next few days were a blur of work, explanations and scrambling to change meetings, dictate press releases, a whole magnitude of items Danny seem to delegate.  It was past five and I was exhausted, and I decided to walk home.  The flat was not very far and I just needed the time alone.

I turned down a side street and realized how close to number 7 I was and my soul cried out at how much I wanted it to be home again.  I kept walking by the street and soon found myself near the neighborhood pub Paul and I had frequented.  On a whim, I went inside and sat at a table near the back.  Looking around brought back so many memories of walking with the dog, coming in for a drink or dinner, hours of talking and laughing.  Instead of making me sad, it brought a bit of comfort thinking back to such a happy time in my life.  Not many people get a chance to feel as deeply as I had; hell, as deeply as I still did.

I closed my eyes and leaned back listening to the juke box play a Stones song and the thought that Mick Jagger was an idiot made me smile a bit.  I heard the chair move and figured my dinner had arrived.  Opening my eyes, I found Paul sitting across from me and I thought, Christ, I have fallen asleep or died and am reliving the past.

Absently, I reached across and jumped when I felt his arm.  “You’re real!” I gasped and he looked at me as if I had completely lost my mind.

“Last time I checked.  What are you doing here?” He raised his glass and took a sip, then motioned to me and I nodded.  He yelled for a white wine, then looked back at me to answer his question.

I sighed. “I had to get away from the office and just needed to walk and think.  Found myself here and...” I stopped, raising my eyes to look directly into his, “and it seemed to give me some comfort.”  Okay, there was an olive branch.

A spark lit in those eyes, and with a slight hesitation he slid his hand across the table to rest on mine.  He waited to see if I would pull it away; I didn’t.  “That’s particularly strange, it’s the same reason I’m here.  Just remembering our walks, how much time we spent here, no one wanting to cook that much.” A smile crept across his face and I could tell he was thinking about our time together, the same as I.

“Yeah, I was surprised we didn’t have a table with an engraved plaque just for us.” It was silly talk but somehow I didn’t want our conversation to end.  The barkeep brought my wine and I took a sip, “Losing Brian has been hard, it kind of puts life in perspective.” I hesitated not exactly sure where I was going.

Paul nodded, “Yeah, life is too short.  I still can’t believe we will never see him again.  I don’t understand why.”

“That is something we will never understand.  I want to believe it was an accident, I just can’t.” I stopped, not even wanting to entertain the other alternative. 

My meal came, making Paul laugh softly. “Do you ever change what you eat?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, pushing the plate to the middle to share.  He grabbed a hunk of cod and took a bite. “Hey, I love their fish and chips, so sue me.”

We ate in silence, a comfortable feeling of just being together helping the pain that surrounded us.  Paul ate more of my dinner then I did, but that was okay, he always did.  After a couple more drinks, we both got up.  Paul insisted on putting everything on his tab, and we walked outside, and for an instant I thought I was in a time warp.  Then he turned toward Cavendish, exactly opposite from where the flat was, and we both stopped, reality crashing down upon us.

Hands deep in his trouser pockets, Paul looked so sad, and my heart ached.  “Can I walk you?” he asked, so softly I barely heard him.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He perked up and we got in step, walking the two blocks to the big white building and my place.  I looked up to the flat windows and noticed lights, so figured John was home.  We hadn’t spoken today, but this was not the usual night he took off to his mysterious lady.

I turned to look at Paul, raised up and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks, this was nice,” I started away but he laid a hand on my arm. 

“Shea, could we do it again maybe?  Nothing firm, just meet or something?” He waited to be cut off at the knees and I scanned his face, God I loved that face.

I found myself nodding.  Damn, was I possessed?  “Yeah, we could.” I opened the front door.  “You know where I live.”

I grinned and bolted up the steps.  When I got to the top landing, I peered around one pillar, and Paul was still standing there, a wonderful smile on his face; then he turned and headed back toward his house.  I wondered if I had done the wrong thing, but as I put my key in the front door I somehow knew it wasn’t.

***

Several days later I came home to a dark flat, so I went straight to my room, took a shower and changed into sweats.  As I headed towards the kitchen, I heard noise and pushed the swinging door to see John and Paul sitting at the round table drinking tea, a third mug at a vacant chair.

“When did you guys get here?” I asked, pouring the hot liquid and reaching for the milk.

John pulled out the chair for me to sit. “Apparently not too long after you.  Thought about popping in the shower with you but…” He saluted me with his cup.

“Cute, Lennon.  Anyone for toast?” I asked, putting in two slices for me.

Of course, they both said yes; I just made several pieces, and we sat around eating and drinking and talking.  It was like old times, just in a different venue.

The phone rang and John ran to get it; I think his lady friend was supposed to ring.  I stirred my tea, suddenly feeling a bit shy with Paul, who had barely taken his eyes off me.

He filled a slice of toast with strawberry jam and took a bite.  “You’re okay with me here?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Did you come from the studio with John?”

He said he had and told me about some things they had been working on when John came back.  “Sorry mates, gotta go, duty calls!” he said, his grin devious. “Be good children, don’t follow my example.” And he was gone, the door slamming shortly.

Great, I thought, here I sit with Paul not knowing what in the hell to do.

I cleaned up, and Paul immediately grabbed a hand towel and dried the dishes.  There was a program on BBC1 I wanted to watch; I mentioned it to Paul and he followed me into the living room and flopped down as I turned the telly on.

I was trying like hell to concentrate when Paul got up and came over to me,  “Think I’d better be going,” he said; helooked uneasy.

Now, as difficult as it was to be here with him and not drag him off to my room, this caught me completely off guard.  I had half expected to have to fight off his advances, and now he was just leaving.  My head was swimming.  I stood up. “Oh, okay,” I said.  He could see my total confusion.

Paul put his hands on either side of my shoulders.  “Shea, I don’t want to go, but I also want to make love with you, and it is hell to just sit here like two old buddies.”

Well, it was nice to know it was as awful for him but, of course, my mouth always got the best of me.  “So, off to find a little to tide you over?” I said snidely, and it was if I had physically hit him as he flinched.  His eyes were hooded and hurt.

“No, Shea, I have not seen anyone since the night at the club.” He looked down at his shoes, “I don’t want anyone else.”  Now it was my turn to be jolted.  “I know you what you think of me and you have the right.  I fucked up royally and as hard as it is for you to understand, believe me it is for me too.  I didn’t even particularly like the girl, she tossed herself at me and I thought ‘what the hell?’  Well, don’t ask for what you don’t what.  It has been hell and hasn’t stopped.  I am not sure why I mess up everything that is good in my life; I had a wonderful life with you, and chucked it for nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Tears were brimming and I felt my very being beginning to crumble, “I’m a selfish bastard and I know it.  Luv, I realize what we had, and dammit, I am so sorry about the way I destroyed it.  I will never forgive myself.”

He turned to head into the hall, but I grabbed his arm and our eyes locked, “Paul, if you had completely destroyed what we had, it wouldn’t hurt so badly.  I think…” I took a deep breath, “…I think maybe we should see if there is a chance...” I just couldn’t seem to get the right words out, but it appeared they were not necessary.  Paul engulfed me in his arms and we stood there for the longest time.

He finally kissed the top of my head. “Shea, do you think we could go out tomorrow night?  Maybe dinner and a flick?”

I smiled into his chest and lifted my face up. “A date, huh?  Yeah, I would like that.”

***

You would think this was a real first date, I was so nervous before Paul arrived.  I came home from work early, despite Danny’s protest, and changed clothes four times.  John was like a dad, giving me advice, commenting on my outfit causing me to giggle and dodge a tossed pillow.

Finally the doorbell rang; Paul ringing instead of using his house key, and John said he would get it.  Father John, what a scary thought!

“Well, well, young man, have you come for me daughter?” John said in his best posh voice. 

“Sod off, Lennon; is Shea ready?” I heard Paul and stifled a giggle.  I checked my appearance in the mirror, hair down and fluffed, a pretty summer dress, just the right amount of make-up, the way I knew he liked it.  Yep, if he was into the renewed dating thing, I was going to drive him around the bend.  I walked out to my two favorite men and watched Paul’s eyes sparkle with appreciation.

John draped an arm around my shoulders.  “Now make sure this bloke treats you right and be home before midnight, curfew luv.”

“Yes, Dad, I will be a good little girl.” I kissed his cheek then focused on Paul. “Are you ready?”  He glared at John as he opened the front door and we left.  He had the Jag, which I knew he rarely drove, but kept quiet as he helped me in, and we off, not into London but outside.

Paul fiddled with the radio, then looked over at me. “You look smashing, but you always do.”

“Thank you.  Paul, where are we going?  I just assumed we were heading downtown.”

“Naw, found a great place up north, thought we’d give it a go.  Might mean we won’t hit a flick but...” His voice trailed off.

I just looked outside, watching the scenery whiz by.  It was almost 45 minutes before we pulled into a small but quaint restaurant, and as we came in several people looked in our direction and then went back to their meal.  Good, I hated it when he was approached all during dinner for autographs.

Paul led me to a back room, which was full of flowers and candles flickering everywhere.  There was a shiny bucket with a bottle of champagne and a table set for two.  I took in everything and then rested my eyes on him. “What have you done?” I asked.

He just smiled and pulled out the chair for me to sit.  The trouble he went to was very sweet, but he wasn’t going to be forgiven this easily.

He handed me a crystal goblet of bubbly; we clinked glasses and each took a sip.  “Ummm this is good.  So all this is to impress me?  Have you forgotten I have seen you in your underwear, no pretense here, mister.”

“You have seen me a lot less dressed then that,” he said huskily, making me blush.  “I just wanted our ‘first’ date to be memorable.  How am I doing?”

I smiled, “Not bad so far.  But you have a way to go.”

He ran a finger over my hand. “Oh, I know, but I am willing to do whatever it takes.”

Now my blood was moving to the boiling point and I gulped a few more sips.  This was going to be harder then I imagined.  Where Paul was concerned I did not have a lot of willpower.

Dinner was amazing, all pre-ordered and for dessert we had an incredible chocolate soufflé, my favorite, of course.  I fought the urge to lick the plate; my appetite had not been this good in months.

I set my fork down and looked up to Paul smiling at me.  “What?” I asked.

He held out his hand and we went over to a settee in the corner.  “Just love it when you get a little chocolate.  You do love chocolate.”

“Yes, I do, and your point is?” I leaned back, his arm resting comfortably behind me.

"Well, don’t they say chocolate is an aphrodisiac?” His face was awfully close to mine.

“Don’t even think about it, buddy, I am not that kind of girl on a first date.  Remember what my Dad said?”

Paul sat back; he knew he was shot down and chuckled a bit. “Can’t kill a bloke for trying.  You know you are driving me insane.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure until now, but good, that was my agenda!”

Paul backed off, and we caught up on things that had occurred the past year.  We even discussed our past relationship and what he was feeling at the time of the big deception.  I had been so caught up in our lives, his success and all that it entailed, that I hadn’t realized how insecure he was.  I saw his vulnerability so clearly now and that helped me understand a lot of things.

On our way home, Paul was quiet again and as we headed into St. John’s Wood he stopped before my street.

“Do you want to stop by the house?” He knew the answer before he asked.

“No!  I can’t, not yet.  Paul, that was our home, I loved it so much, I just don’t know when or if...”

I couldn’t finish, that wound just too fresh to deal with.  He nodded, upset, and drove on to Highgrove.

Walking me to the door, he held my hand. “Thank you so much, the evening was perfect.” I smiled, inserting my key.

Paul’s expression did not change, “Almost perfect,” he said softly, to which I raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, I am out with you, something I told myself I would NEVER do again.” I reminded him.

“Yeah, point taken.  Can we do something tomorrow?”

I knew he was going to be upset, but I said, “Well, I kinda have plans.  Sorry.”

He put his hand alongside my cheek. “May I kiss you?” he asked.  I nodded, and waited as he leaned forward and placed his mouth on mine, gently, then with a little more to it.

I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back.  There was only so much a girl could handle.  “Goodnight,” I said.

I slipped inside and leaned back against the door.  This was going to be really difficult.  I wanted him so badly.  No matter what happened between us, Paul and I always had incredible chemistry in bed.  I had a few lovers before him but the heights we experienced were unbelievable, one of the main reasons I could not understand his infidelity.

***

I had met Eric Clapton at several record label parties and once at George’s house, so when he called and asked me to accompany him to a promotion event, I had readily agreed.  Of course, all this had happened before I thought about seeing Paul again.  Eric was very sweet and seemed to have a bit of a crush on me, at least according to Patti, but he had never made a move at all.

The party was boring and we left fairly early and headed to a club downtown.  The Harrisons said they would meet us there with several other friends, and as we walked in George was heading to the table holding a couple of drinks.

“Hey, didn’t expect you two so early.” He grinned.

Eric rolled his eyes, “The whole thing was a drag, only fun part was being with Shea.”

He took my hand and we followed George.  We crowded around the table, the music and laughter loud, and suddenly I just wanted to be home in the flat.

I leaned back resting my head against the leather booth when I felt an elbow in my side.  “What?” I asked, glancing at Patti, who nodded.  There was Paul, with Alistair and Neil, heading toward us.  Shit, I thought, watching him approach looking incredibly good.  He greeted everyone, his eyes barely leaving mine.

Eric knew our history and like a typical man, or should I say caveman, he put his arm around me, marking his territory.  Paul narrowed his eyes a bit but recovered quickly, and the tight squeeze of friends got even worse.  Eric went on about the promotion party and how daft the set up was and I just scanned the room, looking for anything to distract me from Paul’s never-wavering stare.  Neil got up to fetch a drink and I hollered at him for a white wine, boy did I need one; a double if they came that way.

The rest of the evening was awful, for me at least.  I wanted to escape but there was no way to get out or anyplace to go to.  I drank a little too much and got the distinct impression my misery was making Paul a little happier.  I leaned over to Eric and told him my head was pounding and I wanted to go home.

“I’ll take ya,” he offered.

“No, you are having a good time.  Stay, it’s okay.”  I noticed Paul taking everything in and tried to wipe him from my visual sphere.

“No, luv, you are me date, come on.”

We bid our farewells and left, and when we arrived at the flat I had to do a little dance with Eric, who finally settled for a peck on the cheek before I made my great getaway.

The hall was dark and I leaned back against the door, loving the quiet, when John appeared in his usual T-shirt and briefs.  “Okay, Shea?” he asked sweetly.

“Yeah, just tired.  You know how I love music, but tonight all the noise just go to me.  All I could think about was being back here.  Daft huh?”

I tossed my purse and keys on the little table and walked over to John.  His hair was standing up, a day old beard sprinkled his face and he never looked so adorable.

He pulled me into a hug; “Did ya ever think about us having a go?”

I laughed, pinching his bottom, “Day and night, day and night!” I teased, starting to move away, but he held me firmly.

“Shea, I’m not fooling, been thinking about it lately.  We get on real well, might be something worth talking about.”

If someone had slapped me I would not have been more stunned.   This was the very last thing I needed -- more male testosterone!  “John, I love you like a brother, I don’t want to screw that up.  I need you as a good friend and...”  Okay, I was going to have to say it out loud, “And I am still in love with your best friend.  It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

He was not surprised at my response, think if I had leaped on him he would have been more shocked.  He grinned. “Hey, I’m a fella, gotta give it a go.  Come on, let’s watch some telly.”  And that was the last time he ever mentioned anything about it.

***

Danny sent me out of town for a meeting, and I knew he was just trying to get me away from the situation and actually was relieved.  I tacked on a couple extra days in Paris and just wandered about, enjoying being by myself and doing some major soul searching.

Being on the date with Eric, having to do the ‘yes-thank-you-but-no-thank-you-I-don’t-want-anything-more’ dance convinced me where my heart was.  Either I decided that Paul and I could have a future or I needed to get away from him, cleanse my system, and move on to a completely new life.  As long as I worked for the company, stayed in London, I would never stay away from him.  He was in my soul, he was part of my soul and another man did not fill the void.  Could I be with him again?

The flat looked wonderful as I alighted from the taxi, paid the driver and hurried upstairs.  John was out and from the looks of the mail and papers he had been gone a while.  I unpacked and tossed dirty laundry into the washer and went for a shower.

Padding into the kitchen, I put on the kettle and looked through the fridge.  I heard a tap at the front door, then a key, and was not surprised to see Paul.  He leaned in the kitchen door.

“Hey, you’re back.”

I nodded, all the thoughts I had about him crashing around me.  “Glad to be home, Paris was nice but...”  The kettle sang and I pulled out two mugs. “Do you know where John’s gone?” I asked, filling the pot, “Looks like he’s been gone a while.”

Paul shook his head, getting the milk out and reaching for the sugar he knew I took.  His arm brushed against me as he grabbed a spoon and it was if someone had touched me with a cattle prod.  I jumped, and Paul looked at me with a confused expression.

Without a word I tossed myself at him, kissing his mouth, his throat and back to his mouth, and it sure did not take much for his arms and mouth to respond.  God, he felt wonderful; intense feelings kept sweeping over me as my fingers entangled in his hair.It was several minutes before we separated breathlessly.  Confusion was replaced with passion.

“Shea, what?” He smoothed back my still wet hair.

Tears pooled in my eyes, spilling on my cheeks,. "I love you, God damn it, as much as I have tried not to.  Paul, what are we going to do?”

The love and sweetness that filled his face forced a smile from me. “It all depends on what you want to do,” he said gently, running a thumb down my cheek, “I want you in every possible way.  I am willing to do whatever it takes for us to get back to one another.  The ball is in your court.”

Well, I knew where I wanted the ball, and I took his hand and led him into my room.  The small nightlight illuminated the bed like a beacon as I pulled off his T-shirt and unsnapped his jeans.  His smile was all I needed to continue and once he was down to his briefs, I tugged my nightgown over my head, watching his eyes sweep over my now-naked body.

“I love you gurl,” he said as he pulled me tightly against him.  “I have dreamed about you like this for so long, Shea; are you sure?  I know how much I hurt you, disappointed you…”

I put a finger on his lips. “Shut-up, please,” I whispered, backing up so we were forced down on the bed.  “Yes, I am sure.  I knew when I came back here this would happen.  I tried to tell myself no, but I knew.  Paul, you are my other half.”

His mouth captured mine and we kissed and caressed, rediscovering one another.  I had forgotten how much I loved the feel and taste of him, his hands touching me, bringing me to delirious heights.

We slept for a while, woke and made love again, this time slower but the same deep passion.  Paul was snuggled up in my arms, the hair on his forehead damp from his exertion, his face buried against my breast.  I was home, we had issues to work through, but this was where I belonged and I knew it clearly and plainly.

He shifted a bit and leaned his head back, catching my look.  “You okay?  No regrets?” he asked a bit playfully, but I knew he really was concerned.

I kissed him. “Oh, yeah, very sure.  I have been dead for 12 months and now I am alive again.”

He sat up a bit and bent over me and smiled. “I can’t believe you are in my arms.  I love you, Shea, I will always love you.”

We were kissing, wrapped up in our own little private world, when someone cleared his throat. “About fucking time!” and there was John grinning like a fool.

Paul pulled the sheet up around me and looked at his partner.  “We are relieved that you approve,” he said dryly.

“Hey, hey, hey!” John wagged his finger. “I don’t let me daughter date just any bloke, much less boff their brains out!”

“John Lennon!” I warned, sitting up, “I have tea brewing, add some hot water and let us get dressed.”

He bowed. “Yes, milady,” he said, and left.

Paul was sulking. “I don’t want to get up.  I don’t ever want to leave the bed again.”

I reached down for my nightgown and Paul pulled it from my hands. “We do need to leave the bed, bodily functions and food, wiseguy.”

He pinned me down, trailing sweet kisses down to my breast; “There is only one bodily function I want to do right now.”

I groaned, “You’ve done it twice, I don’t want to wear you out.  Come on, you know Johnny won’t leave us alone!”

John was whistling in the kitchen, setting the tea out, making scrambled eggs, sausage and toast.

“What’s this, then?” I laughed, going for silverware.  John twirled me in his arms and dipped me back.

“Figured you needed food, woman, all that wild, wanton sex -- you wench!”

I grabbed some napkins. “I am starving but your songwriting partner is pouting, he didn’t want to get up.”

“Ahh, fuck him.  Oh, excuse me, you already did.” He just thought he was so funny.  I smacked him and stabbed a sausage, dodging John, who was saying I needed to wait as Paul walked in, scowling at him.  He grinned. “Get over it mate, sit down and eat!”

We had a wonderful time, Paul getting into the fun, eating, laughing, talking and being with people who loved you.

As we finished the dishes, John lit a ciggie, “You doing a sleepover?” he asked. God, did he like to provoke!

Paul glanced at me, “Yep,” I smiled, “he is not going anywhere tonight.  Now do you guys want to watch some telly?”

Paul and I curled up on the sofa, John holding court on the lounger, making fun of any show we turned on.

When we could no longer keep our eyes open, John already snoring in the chair, Paul and I slipped off to my room and drifted off to sleep holding each other as if one or both of us would evaporate.

***

Paul was still asleep when I got ready for work.  As I breezed into my office, Danny followed me in, asking about the trip.  I gave him a report, having a difficult time keeping the goofy smile off my face.

Finally, exasperated, he asked what the hell was going on.  Now, that got my attention and I pulled a serious face out from somewhere.  “Nothing, just glad to be home.  Anything you need to catch me up on?”

He was not convinced but told me about a few deals then left for a meeting.  I dropped into my chair and allowed the replay of last night start to again in my brain.

My secretary came in carrying a huge bouquet of roses, “Meet someone in Paris dear?” she smiled, handing me the card.

I opened it. Thank you for saving me.  I love you.

It was so difficult concentrating on work but I refocused and finished everything Danny had asked me to do.  As evening approached, I wondered if I would see Paul; we had not made any definite plans but as I was exiting EMI, there he was waiting.

It was a chilly evening; Paul’s face was a little red from the cold as he swooped me into his arms for a delicious kiss.  “I missed you gurl, you left without saying goodbye.”

“Well, someone in this family has to work for a living.” I reminded him.  With arms entwined, we started walking.

“Cheeky wench.  I work, sometimes.  So, are you hungry?  Wanta go out, or go home and live on love?”  Looking at his silly face brought a laugh from me; he hadn’t been this happy in long time, and come to think of it, neither had I.

We hit our pub.  I ordered the damn fish and chips, Paul a steak and kidney pie, and talked about our day.  I told him Danny had been bugging me all day about my mood and I supposed we were going to have to tell him about us.

Paul grinned, reaching over to wipe a spot of ketchup off my lips, “Gee, let me, I’d love to.”