AN/ Hey everyone! I just wanted to quickly start by apologising that this chapter took a bit longer to arrive. I've been away over the weekend and have been working a lot so haven't had a lot of time this week. But I ignored my messy kitchen just to finish this chapter off. So here it is, and I hope you enjoy it!
-Four-
Previously…
The corner of an image catches her eye in the paperwork. Pinned above the page where she found the arrest date is what she's sure will be a copy of his most recent mug shot. It doesn't make any difference to her work, but she can't resist seeing what he looks like, what expression the idiot who has behaved so ridiculously gets when arrested for the fifth time. Sliding off the paperclip holding down the pages on top she lifts them away to reveal the photo. Her stomach drops away completely and she gasps loudly enough to attract the attention of the secretary who sits next to her.
"Rick?!"
Kate picks up the photo, dropping the other pages back onto her desk. She's vaguely aware of the secretary next to her pushing herself towards Kate's desk on her wheelie chair, but since she's still not sure where her stomach went she doesn't acknowledge the other woman. A small part of her notes how steady her hand is, holding the mug shot in mid-air, but the rest of her is slowly spinning out of control.
Unable to even tear her eyes away from his face, she's not entirely convinced this isn't some huge joke. She actually wouldn't put it past him to concoct something as over-the-top as this, just to mess with her. Yes, it mustn't be real. He's obviously arranged with Mr Stieglitz to have this come across her desk, just to see what she'd do. As she considers the outlandish tales of his childhood and pranks he pulled on his mother and friends growing up, Kate almost convinces herself that he's clearly pulling one over on her now.
Almost, that is, until that little voice in her head reminds her that while she has told him she works at a law firm, she never told him which one nor given him any hints as to which firm. Given the sheer number of firms in the city, there's no way he'd be able to find out where she worked, and he doesn't yet know any of her friends or family who he could ask. Not to mention, if she's being realistic, there's no way Mr Stieglitz would go along with it, especially going so far as to create a false client record in the system complete with previous legal matters. Cold fingers lick through her veins from her heart. This is no joke.
As if to confirm her swirling thoughts, the secretary, Alex, leans over Kate's shoulder and clucks her tongue, tapping the mug shot with a bright red talon-like fingernail.
"Richard Castle up to his antics again, is he? Do you know him?" Alex's shrewd eyes study Kate's face, and she works hard to wipe her expression blank.
"Oh, no, I don't know Richard Castle." It isn't a lie, she thinks. "I've just seen his books on my mother's bookshelf."
"Well, he might be able to spin a tale, but I swear that boy has no sense, and more than a few screws loose! Honestly. Although his fees alone must fund my pay-check, so I can promise you I bring him coffees with an extra big smile when he comes in for meetings!"
Kate frowns. "You know about him? Why haven't I seen him?"
"Are you kidding, darl? That boy must make weekly appointments with Mr Stieglitz. Been getting into mischief for what, a few months, now? I guess you just haven't been lucky enough to be working on a day he's been in." Alex drops her voice conspiratorially, and Kate leans in, unable to resist. "And every time he does come in, he's always got some flashy bimbo on his arm. I mean, it's one thing to be a playboy on your own time, but who brings them to a meeting with your lawyer? Cotton candy for brains, all of them, too. And I can tell you cause I always have to entertain them while he's in with Mr Stieglitz. I wonder who his new bimbo is. Well, if you've got his file out then I guess we'll find out, won't we?"
Winking at her, Alex pushes herself back over to her own desk, leaving Kate reeling. Was anything he told her true? Her mind flashes back on their first date, when he told her he was a writer. She'd asked his full name and he'd hesitated. At the time she'd blown it off as her being silly, but obviously she should have listened to herself. What's wrong with her? Kate mulls over Alex's words, and she's excruciatingly aware that her stomach has found its way back into her body because it's twisting painfully. A new bimbo every time? Does he think she is his new bimbo of the month? Does he think she has cotton candy for brains? Did he lie about himself to all those other women, too? Something inside her clenches as she imagines him pulling her into the firm's reception, imagines Alex handing her a coffee and babysitting her while he has his meeting, feeling Alex's judgment. No. No, she is not one of those women, no matter what he thinks.
Tapping the keyboard to bring the monitor back to life, she pulls up an internet search engine. Though completely aware that it's a terrible idea, she can't help herself. Typing in his name, she pulls up a list of news articles about him. A thumbnail of a promotional photo appears on the side of the search results, his very familiar lips stretched wide in an enticing smile. Kate wrenches her eyes away, feeling slightly sick. About halfway down the page she finds a small piece about his arrest from some celebrity gossip site. The article is brief, gives her even less information than the case file in front of her, but it does come accompanied by a grainy photo of him being pushed into a police car, wrapped in a blanket. Only half aware of her actions, she prints the story.
Kate's eyes fall to the time in the corner of her computer screen, and with a jolt she realises she only has an hour left of work. If she can't get herself to focus, enter the details and start the research for Mr Stieglitz it will be more than her personal life on the chopping block. Kate takes a deep breath and returns to entering all the case details into the system. But it's busy-work, and she can't stop her thoughts skimming through everything he's told her, every lie he's told her.
Her stomach has stopped twisting, and has instead begun to churn more fervently than her grandmother's old washing machine. Maybe she'd been right, after Mark. Maybe she really can't trust anyone.
Kate is fuming. With every stride she takes down the street, her heels clack noisily and to her mind only become the percussion to the angry tirade inside her head. How could he lie to her? Did he just want to get her in bed, and was playing some sick game? What does he want from her, if she so obviously has no place in his actual life? And what about those bimbos Alex mentioned? Is she just the latest in a string of airheaded conquests he's collecting?
In that final hour at work, every detail about his case she'd entered had made her feel more ill, and more stupid for falling for his lies. But by the time she'd finished entering the case into the system and had started researching similar cases the anger had started to grow. She'd looked up his previous arrests, and as Mr Stieglitz had suggested, all the charges had been dropped. He obviously has connections. What makes him think, though, that he can just go flaunting the law, like it doesn't mean anything to someone like him? Who steals a police horse, really? And who does it naked?
Storming across a street, weaving between the peak hour traffic, Kate grits her teeth. In actual fact she has no idea what to say to him when she sees him. When she'd said goodbye to Mr Stieglitz and Alex she had considered cancelling their after work drinks plans, or even just standing him up. She's still not entirely sure she made the right decision, to still go and confront him. But she's nearly there, now, and her brain hasn't come up with a better idea. All she really wants to do is just slap a copy of his mug shot in front of him and see what he says, but she'd be fired so fast if she took or copied information from a confidential client file.
The bar they chose is quiet when she arrives, and it's quickly clear she's the first to arrive. Ordering a very stiff vodka martini, she settles in at a table near the back and waits. Kate nurses her drink, twirling the olive through the liquid. Sitting still, without the pounding of her shoes on the concrete city streets, she feels the anger draining away. It's replaced only with a bone-deep weariness. How does she keep finding herself tied up with such arseholes?
Someone pushes the door open, and without even looking Kate knows it's him. Still swirling her olive through the half-drunk martini she doesn't even hear what she can tell is a cheerful, excited greeting. If not for the slow rotation of her wrist, she could be a statute. She doesn't look up, and as he sits quietly Kate can tell he's worried. Yet now that he's here, after her emotional tumult of an afternoon, her mind is blank. She feels numb.
"Kate? Kate, what's wrong? Kate?"
Her name breaks through her mind, but instead of replying she thinks back to her earlier desire to confront him with his mug shot. She doesn't have a copy of that, but she has something else. Reaching into her handbag, sitting next to her on the bench seat, she pulls out the gossip article on his arrest she printed out and slides it across the table in front of him.
He picks it up curiously, and she finally looks up at him, sees him stiffen as he begins to read.
"Care to explain, Mr Castle?"
He looks wary, but forces an obvious smile onto his face, trying to laugh it off. "Uh, well, boys will be boys… Why, do you want to approach the bench and badger my witness? We could always adjourn to the bedroom…"
His innuendo falls flat, and, unimpressed, Kate makes no move except for a slight hitch in her left eyebrow. He looks defeated. With a sigh, he starts trying to explain.
"Kate. I don't- I just- I'm sorry I kept this from you. I didn't mean to. Really. My life's just been such a mess, and I don't know. I was just so… captivated by you. And when you agreed to go out with me, I just wanted to leave my baggage behind, so when you asked my last name I gave you my birth name instead. I didn't lie about that, not really. I was born Richard Rogers. But, I know, I know. It's not the same. I'm sorry. I'm…"
His babbling trails off, and still she says nothing. Kate can tell he's waiting for her to say something, but she hasn't got anything. What does he want her to say? 'Oh yes, fine and peachy, let's forget it'?
He rubs a hand over his eyes and sinks down into his chair. "How did you find out?"
At his question, she finally feels herself getting angry again. "Why does that matter?" she hisses, and he flinches. "What else are you hiding that I should be on the look out for? Or who else?"
For a moment he looks mildly confused, but he just shrugs. "Call it morbid curiosity."
Kate sighs, not missing that he dodged her questions. "The firm I paralegal at is Rogers, Macpherson and Kelley." His face pales. "A partner handed me your client file today, asked me to enter the details for your most recent arrest."
"Kate, I'm sorry, really I am. It doesn't have to change anything, it doesn't-"
Kate drains the last of her martini and cuts him off. "Of course it changes things," she snaps. "I don't know you at all." Pulling some money from her bag, she throws it down on the table and stands. "Don't call me."
Heart pounding furiously in her ears, Kate leaves him sitting there with her empty glass and the printed gossip site story. She knows she had to, but damn if it doesn't hurt like hell.
AN/ I know! Train to angst central departing from platform 5. I'm sorry! I'm apparently just incapable of pure fluff. Though I struggle to imagine Kate just being ok with such a big lie with just an apology. But fear not, Kate might be stubborn but so is the universe, and this is not the end.
Please let me know what you think, good bad and everything in between! What did you like/not like? Have I completely shown my utter lack of knowledge of life in a US law firm? Let me know! Reviews can make a dreary day just so much better.