Chapter 47 - Philly

Jon looked impatiently at his watch for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. He smiled and nodded to the man sitting next to him at the table, though he had caught only the last few words of what the man had said. But after decades of learning to work an audience, large or small, Jon knew how to hide his distraction.

Normally he would be frustrated with his inability to focus, but not today. Today he was just counting the minutes, eager to get back on the plane that would return him to Georgia.

He had been looking forward to his original plans, a night on the town with Richie and Obie. But now he wanted nothing more than to be back with Cate. He was sure his best friends would understand. They’d give him shit about it, no doubt, but they’d understand.

Jon placed his napkin on the table and leaned aside as the waiter reached in to take away the remnants of his lunch. Sliding a hand into his dove-gray jacket, Jon pulled out the folded papers that held his hand-scrawled remarks. Time to get your head in the game, he told himself. This was important, for the Foundation and for Project HOME. He could get back to fantasizing about Cate soon enough.

He discretely studied his notes as several other speakers took the podium, then it was his turn. After a warm introduction from Sister Mary, Jon stepped up to the lectern and flashed his dazzling smile. Then he was off, delivering his remarks with the polish of a seasoned performer.

Fifteen minutes later he took his seat, smiling and nodding his thanks at the enthusiastic applause of the audience. A few more comments from the emcee, then it was over. Jon breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Almost there.

Jon dutifully delayed his departure for another twenty minutes after the event’s close, being sure to chat up several potential benefactors. Finally he escaped to his car.

As his driver guided the town car through the streets of Philadelphia, Jon sank back in the soft leather seat and pulled out his Blackberry. He pushed the button to dial Cate’s number, then smiled a disappointed little smile when he heard her voicemail message. She must still be at the spa with Mandy, he thought, checking his watch. He decided not to leave a message—she would be more surprised to see him if she hadn’t yet received his promised call.

Jon busied himself with his e-mails for the remainder of the drive. Twenty minutes later he was striding back through the doors of the Soul’s office suite. He grinned as he looked through the doorway of the Director’s office and saw a pair of long, denim-clad legs stretched out from the chair in front of the desk.

“Hey Bro,” Jon said as he walked through the door. He playfully kicked at a large booted foot as he passed by it on his way around the desk.

“Hey Man,” Richie grinned. “How was the rubber chicken thing?”

Jon shrugged. “Okay. Think we got some new donors, so it was worthwhile.” He shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the back of the large leather executive chair. He undid the buttons on his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt, then sank down into the chair with a sigh.

“So, what’s tonight’s plan?” Richie grinned and rubbed his palms together, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Cruisin’ for chicks?” he teased.

Jon laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, Man. I’ve been so busy I forgot to e-mail ya. I gotta go home. My plane leaves in…” He checked his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

Richie raised an eyebrow, still grinning. Obie had told him about Jon’s late-night text message. “You are home,” he pointed out. “Remember? Joizey, right over yondah?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

Jon smiled sheepishly at his subconscious slip. Damn, I REALLY want to get back to her. “I mean back to where I’m staying in Georgia. I have a lot more training to do before next week. That cop shit ain’t easy, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie waved his hand dismissively. “Training, my ass. What’s her name?” he challenged, laughing.

Jon chuckled at the smirk on his buddy’s face. “Obie told ya, huh?” Richie nodded. “Cate. Her name is Cate.”

“Ah, Cate. And is Cate a sweet li’l Southern thang?” Richie put on a thick Southern drawl. “Where’d you find her? Beach? Bar? Room service? Brothel?” he teased.

“Ha ha.” Jon replied, chuckling again at Richie’s wit. “None of the above. Actually, she’s a federal agent at the Center. She’s the poor instructor who got stuck with me for two weeks.”

Richie threw back his head and bellowed out a long, hearty laugh. “Oh, MAN!” he gasped. “Don’t tell me you’re doin’ your teacher!” Richie laughed again as Jon tried to protest. He waved his hand at Jon, dismissing Jon’s attempted rebuttal, then started to drum his hands on his leg in a rapid staccato rhythm.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad…Jonny’s hot for teacher!” Richie sang, mimicking the Van Halen song. Jon’s face reddened and he again tried to make his defense. Cackling like a hyena, Richie listed sideways and nearly fell out of the chair.

“Hey asshole, don’t hurt yourself,” Jon laughed. He had fully expected Richie to give him a bucketload of shit once his pal found out Cate was his instructor.

Jon watched amusedly until Richie finally had to take a breath and let his laughter subside. Then he spoke. “And no, I’m not ‘doing her,’ as you so delicately put it. Hell, she beats the crap out of me on a daily basis. She wouldn’t even let me kiss her until last night.” Jon paused at the memory of the kiss, his lips curving into a private little smile.

Richie noticed. “Oh really?” he asked, arching one brow. He hadn’t seen a look like that on Jon’s face in years. Certainly not since the divorce. “There’s actually one woman in the world who won’t fall into bed with you at the drop of the hat?” he kidded.

“Yeah, in fact there is,” Jon replied, a little sarcasm creeping into his voice. “Shit, when we first started working together I’m pretty sure she wanted to kill me with her bare hands. And she could, too. She’s tough as nails.” He grinned. “I got a little sassy with her and she planted my ass on the floor and stuck a gun in my face in front of 24 basic trainees.”

Richie snorted another laugh. “I like her already. Would have loved to have seen that!” He grinned at Jon, his tone turning suggestive. “So, after she knocked you around a little you decided you like it rough, huh?” He snickered dirtily.

“Hey, I never said…” Jon started to answer but was cut off by another loud, familiar voice.

“Jesus H. Christ! I can’t believe I’m schlepping all this crap all the way over here from Jersey. This shit ain’t part of my job description!”

Jon and Richie both laughed and looked through the door to see Obie wandering through the reception area. In one hand he carried a battered black guitar case. The other hand guided a black and yellow wheeled duffel bag, which trailed behind him. He was doing his best to look put out, but he couldn’t help but grin at his pals despite his grumbling.

“Hey, Obe. Thanks for bringing this stuff over, Man.” Jon stood and rounded the desk as Obie set the guitar case gently on the floor and dropped the duffel by Richie’s feet. They gave each other a quick man-hug, clapping their hands briefly on each other’s backs in greeting. “I owe ya one.” Jon said, stepping back to lean against the desk.

Obie shook his head and grinned at Jon. “You owe me way more than one,” he answered. “I’m not usually inclined to play personal valet. But since it seems to be so damned urgent that you take this shit back with you…” Obie trailed off as he fixed Jon with an inquisitive stare.

His curiosity piqued, Richie reached down and unzipped the duffel. Opening the mouth of the bag, he sifted through the contents, then started to laugh. “What the hell?” he chortled. He pulled out one item and held it up, raising his eyebrows saucily at Jon. “Care to explain this?” he inquired.

Jon opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words. Suddenly he was a little embarrassed at what he had asked Obie to collect from his house. And he sure as hell didn’t want to explain that the duffel bag was filled with ‘props,’ as Mandy had called them, for his plan to seduce Cate. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“Ohhhh!” Richie and Obie exchanged a comical look. “He’s actually speechless! Shit, this must be serious.” Richie gave Jon a lecherous grin. “This is for her ain’t it? You sly dog!” Richie laughed gleefully as Jon reddened slightly, but gave a huge confirmatory smile.

“You are one sick sonofabitch,” Obie said gravely, shaking his head from side to side. “To do this just to pick up some woman. Must be desperate times, my friend. Desperate times, indeed.” Obie gave Jon a faux-pitying look as Richie nodded solemnly.

Jon laughed at their expressions. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m not getting any younger. I gotta resort to some trickery to get a woman into bed with my ugly old ass.”

Obie rolled his eyes and walked over to the chair beside Richie’s. “So, who is she?” he asked as he settled down onto the soft leather-covered seat.

Jon gave Richie and Obie a quick account of his week with Cate. As he expected, they both got a good laugh out of his descriptions of Cate kicking him around in DTs, and of her flustering him on the range. Richie gave him an envious look as he described his experiences in the FATS room and the raid houses.

They also chuckled at Jon’s description of interacting with the students, many of whom were young enough to be his children. But mostly, they were happy to see their friend’s eyes light up as he told them about Cate.

“She sounds cool,” Richie commented. “She a looker?”

“Gorgeous,” Jon smiled. “And she’s real. Not one of those women who always have to look like they stepped off a magazine cover.” He pulled his Blackberry from his belt and pushed several buttons.

George had given Jon a CD containing all the photos he had taken at the range on Wednesday, and Jon had uploaded several of his favorites to his Berry. He pulled up a photo of Cate and himself standing together on the range, then handed the device to Richie.

Richie let out a low whistle, and held out the Blackberry for Obie to see the image. He chuckled. “A redhead, huh? Man, you’re in trouble.”

“I know.” Jon laughed. “She’s a spitfire. I’ve already learned that she’s used to being in charge, she doesn’t take any crap from anybody – least of all ‘candy-ass Rock Stars,’ as she called me – and she’s every bit as stubborn as I am.”

“Great,” Obie chuckled. “A female Jon. Just what the world needs.” He grinned at his friend. “You got it bad, don’tcha, Loverboy?”

Jon nodded, casting his eyes to the floor as he smiled. “Yeah, Obe, I do.” He brought his gaze back up and saw his buddies grinning at him. “I can’t wait to get back there and see her tonight,” he admitted. “Sorry about the change in plans.”

“No problem, Bro.” Richie answered sincerely. “Good to see you happy.” He handed Jon’s Blackberry back to him and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, if you’re gonna make your plane we better get our shit done.”

Jon nodded and moved back around the desk, settling into the chair. He focused his attention on Obie as Obie began his status report on the various projects in works. Realizing his Blackberry was still in his hands, he glanced at the screen, where Cate’s picture still glowed.

He smiled. Not long now.