Alicia heard the muted thud of footsteps pounding their way down the carpeted hall, the sole warning before Will flung his way into her office. "You have a problem, you bring it to me. You don't take it to court." She surged out of her chair with a flabbergasted, "I'm sorry?" "I said if you have a problem, you bring it to me instead of dragging it into court."
She projected a maddening composure to cover the tumult churning in her stomach. "I'm a lawyer, Will. You asked us!"
"Yeah. We asked you to take it seriously."
"I am taking this seriously," she shot back in a rising tone.
"You're losing us a client."
"That is not my fault."
"It damn well is your fault," Will retorted hotly as he got right up in her face. It was not the same congenial closeness she'd shared with Cary the previous evening. This was intense, and a little dangerous. She didn't think Will would ever actually hurt her physically, but the situation was taking a slightly concerning turn.
"Fine! If we're doing such a bad job, if you really want us out, then take us off it. Get rid of us. Fire us! It's not like you want us around anyway."
Will had the decency to look wounded before he snarled back, "Oh, really? And is that what all these secret lunch meetings are about? Is that really what you want?"
A tinge of incredulity colored her reply as she pushed back into his space. "Oh my god, Will. Would you listen to yourself? You are not the injured party here."
"Oh and I suppose you are, Alicia?"
"As a matter of fact, I am! Yes!" The atmosphere between them crackled with electricity like an impending lightning storm, full of tension and potential shocks if contact was made too close. Within an instant he took her in his arms, his mouth devouring hers. Her hand swung around and gripped the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He'd been sure for exactly one second that she was kissing him back until he felt the cold metal of her wedding ring against his neck burn like a firebrand and pulled away.
"No… no, no, no, no…" He turned, putting much needed space between them, unintentionally allowing her a clear escape.
Alicia beat a hasty retreat to the elevator, berating herself with every stalking step. She delivered a series of rapid-fire jabs to the down button, willing the car to rise quicker or the ground at least to be merciful and swallow her up. She pounded the elevator casing, cursing it for being so slow, and had just decided to take the stairs (stilettos be damned) when the car arrived and the chrome doors slid open. Frantic to escape, she threw herself inside expecting to meet the rear wall. Instead she met a hard unyielding obstacle wrapped in expensive linen, and felt two hands grip her shoulders in a bid to keep her upright. A soft shake sufficed to tip her head level, where she found two slate grey orbs of concern peering out from a familiar face.
He managed to utter an eighth of a syllable in asking if she was alright before she melted into him. She clung tenaciously to his neck and shivered a little as the doors slid shut again, and he resolutely pressed the L before wrapping her more firmly in his arms. He took a step back and she followed unconsciously, moving in tandem until his body was braced against the back wall of the elevator for support.
The majority of the silent trip back downstairs he simply held her as she dampened his shoulder, waiting for her to calm down enough to tell him what was wrong. There was no screaming, no hysterics, merely a gentle quivering; the tremulous action reminded Cary of a leaf on a breezy day in danger of being blown away from its mooring.
Something was obviously wrong and he was determined to find out what. He had always admired her, even before he got to the point where he could admit it to anyone but himself. She was brilliant, warm, caring, strong and endearingly human, not to mention a strikingly beautiful woman. But it was the inner beauty- the fierce loyalty, the ferocious love she bestowed on her family, even the maternal kindness she lavished on him- that made her truly stunning in his eyes. They had become something to close to friends these past few months, and he didn't like the idea of something upsetting her. Hot blood and passion were one thing; scalding tears were quite another.
When she finally regained a modicum of composure somewhere around the 5th floor, he gently turned her in his arms, so that instead of holding her, she stood by his side, a supportive arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Feel any better?" Her gaze never left the carpeted floor, but she smiled, sniffled and gave a succinct nod. In return, he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze, and simply said, "Good." A moment stretched out until they reached the third floor, and he asked if she needed to go back up.
She gave a deep sigh, and raised her eyes to the polished chrome opposite them; an indistinct watercolor reflection returned the look. "I don't really want to, but I probably should. I left all my stuff up there… I just had to go."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Finally, she swiveled her head to meet his gaze, and her mouth opened then slid shut again. She was inexplicably hesitant to take him up on his offer of a sympathetic ear; it seemed too much like the few times she asked her kids for help or advice. Not that Cary was her kid, or even a kid at all - not by a bloody long shot – but she still felt the need to comfort and alleviate his problems, not add her burdens to his load. He had enough to deal with.
Deciding to keep it to herself for now, she shook her head and tilted her chin up with that defiant determination he had come to recognize, mentally squaring off to do battle. Cary saw the change, the reinforcing of any small chink in the armor, and knew she wasn't going to let him in. He wished she'd open up to him more, but it was no great matter right now. He appreciated the warrior woman in her as much as the nurturing earth mother; every part of her was wonderful, separate but distinct and each wholly necessary.
They arrived at the lobby and the doors slid open with a loud ping! Shaken out of his laudatory reverie, he tried a new tack. "We could always get out of here. Drinks? Dinner? I think there might even be a late slasher flick at the theatre in Lincoln Park." She giggled, nudging his side as a thank you. "I'd love to, but… I mean, we have so much work to do, and I don't even have anything with me." Cary's head inclined towards the floor, and he gave her his tight-lipped look of irk. "Alicia, we may not be partners yet, but I still can afford to take you out to dinner every once in a while." He warmed to his pitch and pinned her with his trademark grin, eyes sparkling in playful challenge. "Seriously. My treat and my pleasure. You don't even need to go back for your stuff. I can drive you home afterwards and you can get everything tomorrow. Whaddya say?"
It was tempting. He could see she was thinking about it, weighing the charming draw of his company against facing whatever had driven her out of the office to begin with. Her lips curved, lifted, split open into an answering grin. She was going to say yes; he knew it.
Author's Note: so here's part the 3rd, from the ill-fated kiss. It's probably ending in a weird spot, but this section just kept going and going like the Energizer chapter, so I cut it in half. Part 4 will have the rest.
You know the drill...