"Thanks for meeting me."
Casey sighed, stirring a peppermint stick into her cocoa. "I felt that I owed it to you. Although, I am confused as to why you were such a bitch to Michael."
Olivia's head snapped into position like a rubber band. "I was not a bitch," the detective said carefully. "I suppose he did not tell you what he said?"
"He said he greeted you and was very friendly, and you got in his face and threatened him. I didn't want to believe him at first, but then I thought back to how you reacted the night you heard us, and I realized it was altogether possible." Casey stopped stirring for a moment, meeting Olivia's gaze. "Why are you so angry about it, Olivia? I would have thought you wanted to see me happy."
"I do, Casey. You know that." Olivia sighed deeply. It was incredibly difficult to explain such complications to someone who had no idea how she felt. "I'm just worried about you. You don't know him that well, right? For all you know, he has a wife and kids somewhere."
Casey laughed so hard she nearly knocked her cocoa over. "Oh. You weren't kidding. Olivia, you weren't kidding? Are you kidding me?"
Olivia folded her hands on the table. "I don't know him, but neither do you," she advised. Maybe he doesn't have a wife and child, but he could be a rapist or a murderer. We've seen it before."
"I can take care of myself, Detective," Casey answered, her mounting anger visible to the trained eye.
"Casey." Olivia boldly reached across the table and took Casey's hand. "He lied to you. He didn't tell you what he told me outside of the courtroom. He told me.." She exhaled sharply. "He told me you're a hot piece of ass," she said quietly, so that only Casey could hear. "He only thinks of you as a sex object."
Casey ripped her hand away as if Olivia had burned her. "You're lying. He would never say that." Olivia began to speak, but Casey silenced her by standing. "Michael is very passionate and romantic. He gives me flowers every day, and he, unlike most men, actually cares about something besides his own orgasm in bed. You're just.." She gasped. "Of course. You're jealous! You want me for yourself."
"Casey, that's ridiculous," Olivia said.
"No, it is not. It is a lot of things, but ridiculous is not one of them. Everyone knows about you, Olivia. It's obvious. And you're angry and jealous because I have someone and you don't."
Olivia stood, nearly knocking their drinks over in the process. "Listen to me right now, Casey. Yes, I want you for myself," she admitted. "And yes, I have no business admitting that, or even feeling that. But that doesn't change the fact that you are with someone who doesn't love you. He's only using you!"
The other restaurant patrons were beginning to stare. Olivia paid the bill and took Casey outside, standing directly in front of her. "He's only using you," she repeated. "He would never take you to a romantic lunch. He only wants to fuck you and leave, and do it again the next night. He's not right for you."
"What, and you are?" Casey demanded. "You're a hypocrite, Olivia! Everyone knows that you are a one and done person, and romance is not in your wiring!"
"You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. Casey, I want you to listen to me, right now. I could love you better than that bastard ever could. I could be a hundred times more romantic, and make you feel a million times better. And don't act as if you don't have some sort of feelings for me in return. Let's not forget that night at the bar last year."
"I was drunk! We all say stupid things when we're drunk! Wow, Detective, your pride level must be very high today for you to assume you're a better lover than someone. You're no different than a man who bets how much his girlfriend can swallow." Casey checked her phone. "I have to go. Michael needs me."
And she stormed off, leaving Olivia alone outside of the restaurant. The detective sat on a nearby bench, burying her head in her hands. "Prideful," she muttered to herself. "If only she knew how much better I could be."
