Chapter 2
After the unpleasant encounter with Connie at the courthouse, Mike had gone back to the office to do some more work. He had intended on putting in a couple more hours then stopping off at the gym. Hopefully, by the time he got home he could just fall into bed and be asleep before he knew it. But it hadn't happened like that. He had sat at his desk in the office, fuming over Connie's insensitivity, rather than concentrating on the case. Afterwards, he hadn't gone to the gym at all. Instead, he went to a bar and had a few drinks with his club sandwich. Now, here he was in bed trying to catch a few hours sleep. Except he couldn't fall asleep because Connie's young, smooth, unlined peaches and cream face kept mocking him: "I was in kindergarten when you started working here."
Connie was a bitch to say that to him. She wanted to hit below the belt, make him think he was too old for her. Remind him that she was young and sexy and he was what? A dirty, old man lusting after a younger woman. That's the picture she had wanted to paint for him. And then, as if that wasn't enough damage, when she walked away, she didn't just walk, she sashayed, switching her ass as if to say, "You'll never have any of this."
Mike chuckled as he thought on it. He could have tapped that if he had been so inclined. Not that he hadn't thought about it. He had. He was a man, afterall. But he was wise enough to know it would likely cause more trouble than it would be worth. Connie was too emotional. She wouldn't be able to separate what happened between the sheets with what happened in the office. Besides, he actually preferred blondes. Then, who didn't? That's how he had gotten tangled up with Carly. She was blonde and had come on very strongly with him. Since she was older and would therefore be discreet, he hadn't seen the harm in it. What a mistake that had been.
Mike had almost drifted off to sleep when the words coursed through his head again: "I was in kindergarten when you started working here."
Mike opened his eyes and tossed and turned, trying to make himself more comfortable. But no matter which way he turned, he was still pissed. He never let what people say get to him. He had a thick skin, which Connie would no doubt interpret as being like tough, old leather. Now why did that pop into his head? Why the hell was her stupid comment still bothering him? Why did he care what she thought? He really didn't find her that attractive. Did he? She sort of reminded him of a lizard.
Mike was drifting off to sleep again Finally! Hmmm. Lizards had very active tongues, didn't they?
