Alicia jolts awake, sweaty and uncertain, struggling to collect herself. It has been a good many years since the place where she's awoken has surprised her. Light is just beginning to filter in through the unfamiliar window, and finally she remembers that the bare walls, the stark, statuesque armchairs, the hand on her ribcage are all Kalinda's.
Kalinda is still clinging to her, just as she was when they fell asleep, her delicate face slack above Alicia's left breast. Alicia puts one hand in her hair absently, stroking the hanks that fell loose from the firm updo. Kalinda sighs a little into Alicia's flesh, and when Alicia cranes her neck she can see that her lips are slightly parted.
Last night comes back to Alicia in flashes—the shivery thrill she felt at seeing Kalinda's pendulous breasts unleashed (she hadn't seen another woman topless since the college locker room, she was pretty sure, and none of those had ever grazed her cheeks); the raw, fierce kisses, tasting Kalinda's pulse when she put her lips to her throat; Kalinda's harsh cry as she came in pulses on Alicia's hand, the sound winding out of her like thread. When she recovered, she held Alicia to the wall outside her bedroom and slid the trousers of her suit down her hips, played her tongue across Alicia's clit until starbursts of pleasure radiated out, up Alicia's ribcage and down her thighs. She stood still, her head thrown back against the wall, holding onto Kalinda's hands for dear life for what could have been hours, and then she pulled Kalinda up and they tumbled into the bedroom, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, Alicia throbbing with the desire to put her lips against every part of the woman in her arms.
Kalinda was crying after her second orgasm, when they finally and fully fell to bed, tears clinging like ice to her lashes. It scared Alicia a little, that she could have brought Kalinda to that, but she held her to her shoulder, pulled a too-white sheet up over them gently, and whispered into Kalinda's hair It's all right, sweetie, I'm here, we'll be okay, Kalinda, honey, it's all right, it's all right until the other woman relaxed in sleep, unfamiliar and comforting against Alicia's torso.
In the early, sickly light, it seems inconceivable that she used such endearments for Kalinda (never mind that Kalinda accepted them without complaint).
She says it in her head now: "I slept with the woman who slept with my husband." She hears it in the same shaken tone that was the voice of all her thoughts when she learned of Peter's infidelities. It still sounds just as strange as it did drifting through Alicia's head while she was falling asleep.
But the woman holding her is beautiful, glowing, and Alicia doesn't want to regret it. She rubs a thumb absently along the ridge of Kalinda's shoulder.
"You awake?" Kalinda murmurs.
"Yes," Alicia says.
Alicia can only see one of Kalinda's eyes, and barely, but even in her peripheral vision it's clear it has opened wide, her one visible eyebrow shot up like a hawk. She sits up in a fluid motion, stares down at Alicia's face and naked torso with something that looks like horror.
An old, familiar chill starts in Alicia's gut. She resets her face so it's still, braces herself. She doesn't understand how she could have been so stupid. It's Kalinda, for god's sake. Alicia has bared her throat—she has bared everything—knowingly to a predator. Even back when they were friends, it was abundantly clear that Kalinda was the love 'em and leave 'em type. Waking up with someone, anyone, is probably painful for her. And Alicia will be left to clothe herself in this white, white apartment and this white, white light, as if a dozen spotlights were shining on her, a dozen cameras flashing.
"Oh, Alicia," Kalinda says, her voice thin and flat as sheet metal. Her face looks strange. She reaches for a stray strand of Alicia's hair.
Alicia jerks her head away, and Kalinda looks still unhappier, her eyes cast down, teeth digging into her bottom lip.
"I shouldn't have …" Her voice trails off.
"Shouldn't have what?" Alicia snaps.
"Gotten you involved." Kalinda's eyes whip towards the wall, away from her.
Now Alicia can only see her in profile. She sits up herself, the sheet crumpling comfortably at her hips. This isn't what she thought it was. There's too much fear in Kalinda's voice, too much tension in her posture. Time and time again, Alicia makes the mistake of thinking she knows or understands Kalinda, as if anybody could. She thinks of the headlines, the gossip in the office, the articles she hasn't read, Andrew Wiley's voice behind her. Leela Tahiri. The mug shot, grainy on the second page of the Sun-Times metro section. Alicia will have to read all the articles now, she realizes, to represent Kalinda effectively.
"I was already involved, Kalinda." Alicia reaches for her shoulder. Kalinda shrugs her off. "We talked about this when you asked me to represent you."
Kalinda whirls. "Don't act like this isn't different." There are tears on her face.
This is all starting to confuse Alicia. Until last night she had never seen Kalinda cry, hadn't really thought that she could. Weeks of scandal seem to have stripped the in-house investigator of her veneer.
Alicia supposes she can understand that.
She thinks now of that phone call, lying forgotten in the heat of the rest of the night. Kalinda's eyes glazing, the color draining from her lips. She wonders what it was about.
"I know," Alicia says.
"You think you know how bad a scandal can get, Alicia. You don't. You don't even know the beginning."
Alicia hears To me you were just the housewife. It takes her a second to speak.
"Really, Kalinda?"
"You never hurt anyone."
Alicia isn't sure what that means.
"I—I could destroy your family already, Alicia. If anyone knows this … and if he … Lana doesn't get it. You don't get it. This could go further than you understand, and if you—"
"Did you just put me in the same category as Agent Delaney?"
Kalinda smiles unhappily. "Please, Alicia. I can't do this to you."
"Do what?" Alicia says, startling herself with the provocative tone.
Kalinda's eyes flash for a second, but she says, "It's not worth it. This is your career, Alicia. I'm your client."
"This is my life, Kalinda. I make decisions as a consenting adult." Alicia can't believe she's having this conversation naked. "You make yours. If this was a mistake, tell me it was your mistake. But don't tell me it was mine."
They stare at each other for a moment. Alicia isn't sure what she's saying. She studies the woman beside her. Kalinda fell asleep with her makeup smeared by tears—why would someone like Kalinda Sharma bother with waterproof mascara, Alicia supposes—and there's a blurred, unfamiliar messiness to her face.
She takes Kalinda's cheeks in her hands and kisses her, her mouth as startlingly warm and rich as it was the night before. Kalinda leans into Alicia, places her hands on her bare waist, but when Alicia strokes a hand down Kalinda's spine she pulls away.
"Will you go?" she says softly.
Alicia stares.
"I'm serious, Alicia." Her face contorts, she squeezes the sheets in her hands, but she doesn't drop her gaze. "It's—"
"You don't have to explain," Alicia says brusquely. She has had enough of this. She stands up, casting her eyes about the room for her clothing, realizing her pants are still in the hallway. She ducks around the doorway for them, and as she turns around she catches the expression of naked lust on Kalinda's face.
"See something you like?" she snaps.
"Alicia." Kalinda swallows. "You would—or I would—or Lana—it's already …" Her next words are almost too quiet to be heard. "I'd never forgive myself."
"I think maybe," says Alicia as she fastens her bra, buttons her blouse, "someone else should take your case. Someone who is a little less … invested. I know that rules Cary out. You'll have to tell me who else."
Kalinda doesn't say anything.
"I'll talk to Diane," says Alicia, running quick fingers through her hair and trying to stop her hands from shaking. "We'll figure something out." She marches into the living room, where she slips her feet back into her pumps and picks up her purse. Kalinda still hasn't moved. "Do you need to lock behind me?"
Kalinda shrugs.
"Thanks for a lovely night," says Alicia. "I can certainly see the appeal." She didn't mean to say that, and Kalinda's posture seems to falter, but her eyes stay pinned to Alicia. Alicia can tell that only by feel, since she has no intention of looking back.
