A late meeting
Chapter 11
While Mike was having a late night talk with Carly, Connie was still awake in her extravagant hotel room. Wearing the hotel's plush bathrobe, Connie strode across the room towards the bed, having just come out of the shower.
In the cold stillness of the night, she felt so alone.
She found herself reflecting back to the shared meal she had with Mike at the office earlier that evening. Somehow the partaking of the same food with him seemed so natural and intimate.
"What am I to do?" Connie whispered in agitation, flinging herself on the French-inspired comforter. She clutched a pillow in her arms and dug her chin into the soft pillow, as other thoughts of Mike entered her mind.
She thought time and distance apart from Mike would cease her yearnings. Instead all her feelings were brought to the surface again every time she saw him. Yet she couldn't become involved with him. He had someone in his life already. Not that it matter, for Connie would be leaving for LA once the trial ended and she dreaded feeling that empty void in her life again.
Clinging to the pillow, Connie turned over to lay on her back as she stared into the coffered paneled ceilings, hoping that sleep would soon overtake her.
It would be another restless, sleepless night.
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The next day, Mike had another tough day at the office. He had been busy all day, dealing with so-called 'emergencies' his people claimed only he could solve. Mike had not taken a single break.
Daytime had turned into evening and ADA Casey Novak was in his office now, wanting to accept the plea deal offered from the celebrity defendant who was accused of raping his date.
"At least with a plea bargain, he'll receive some jail time," Casey suggested.
"I don't think we should settle Casey, not when there's a possibility we could win this case!" insisted Mike, "The lab results confirmed that saliva from a bite mark matched up to his DNA. That along with the victim's testimony should be enough to convict."
"Mike, you're not seeing the whole picture. He's a ce-le-bri-ty and celebrities get off, even when there is a mountain of evidence against them," argued Casey," I'm telling you, the public -and jury- will be swayed by his celebrity status."
"So you want to accept the plea deal of 2 years plus 5 years probation?" asked Mike, "Come on, Casey! That is not enough time to pay for what he did!"
"A certainty of some time spent behind bars is better than taking the chance that the Jerk may be found innocent! How incompetent will you look as Bureau Chief then?" Casey challenged.
"We will all look bad, Casey, if we accept this weak deal. I'm willing to take my chances with a jury. I think we can win this. "
"Not every case is winnable, Mike, even with irrefutable evidence. Too many variables can effect the outcome."
"You don't think I know that from personal experience?" Mike pointed out, "But your job is to eliminate all those variables and make the charges stick."
"I still think our best hope is to accept their offer." Casey was being stubborn.
Mike paced awhile, wishing he had his baseball bat to help him think. Replacing Casey so late in the game was an impossibility. Facing her now, he would approach the dilemma from a different angle.
"Casey, our office speaks for the victim, so let's do it this way. You go to the victim and her family and ask them if they are willing to accept the deal you propose or if they prefer a trial. I will go with whatever they decide."
Casey gave it a thought and nodded.
"Fine by me, Mike. I'll do it first thing tomorrow morning."
But Mike was no longer involved in the conversation as he was looking out his office window at the view of an empty cornered desk in the main office area. Connie had left to question Watson, and he had not seen her except for a glance of her in the late morning.
"Hel-lo? Mike?" Casey was leaning over, trying to re-capture his attention.
"Sorry, Casey," said Mike, clearing his mind, "it's been a long day, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
After Casey left, Mike glanced at his watch. Past dinnertime and he was the only one left in the office. He looked at his desk with the files and knew it would be another all nighter. Grabbing his mug, he walked down the hallway to fill his coffee cup.
The hallway was fairly dark due to the lateness of the evening. Mike made a turn in the hallway...
...and collided right into Connie as she rounded the corner from the break-room.
Connie gasped at the unexpected contact as the liquid from her coffee mug made big sloshing motions. Some of the liquid flew over the rim of her cup and splattered onto Mike.
"Hey!"
Mike pulled back automatically as he looked down at his now stained shirt. But when he looked back up, his heart leaped with gladness when he saw it was Connie.
"Oh…Mike!..I'm sorry… your shirt!...I had just come in and... I was headed to my desk..." Connie was rambling as she nervously took the napkin she had in her hand and proceeded to try and dab at the spilled spot on Mike's white shirt.
Obviously it did no good.
To Mike, their accidental meeting had happened so quickly. BAM! Suddenly she was in front of him, and now she was touching his upper torso, patting at a particular spot on his shirt. He watched her, unable to breathe.
After a few more tries at his shirt, Connie stopped mid-dab. Heat began to rise in her face with the realization that she was physically touching him. She subconsciously put her hands behind her back.
Unease and yearnings filled her mind at the intimate closeness of their stance in the narrow hallway.
"...I-I think I got some of the stain is out," she commented, wishing to disappear inside the office walls, "Again, I'm sorry, Mike."
He continued to stare her, making her feel even hotter.
"It's nothing, Connie," his voice sounded different, "I'll just go and rinse out the stain..."
"..Um...great.. and I'll just proceed back to my desk..." Connie pointed, as if Mike didn't know the direction of her desk.
Neither one moved, as they were held spellbound.
Mike was watching her, as if he were absorbing the details of her face.
Connie noted that he was now only a foot away from her, as a paralyzing warmth continued to flood her body. She inhaled quickly, the air feeling heavy in her lungs.
Both knew what would happen if they remained.
"Mike…" Connie was torn between indecision and wonderment, "We...cannot…"
Mike slowly shook his head.
"Don't say it, Connie."
Connie watched him with wide eyes. Awareness rippled through her as she stood between the cold, hard wall of the hallway and the warm-bodied man who kept her there.
Mike did not take his eyes off her as he reached over to close his hand over hers. Connie took a deep breath in at his touch, her cheeks flushed, until she realized he was merely taking the half-filled coffee mug from her hand to place it safely on the floor.
And just when she started feeling comfortable again, he took a step closer to her.
Their bodies were now almost touching.
Connie could not help herself as she reached out and gingerly touched his upper chest. Her throat felt dry as she gazed at her hand making contact with the hardness of his body, yet she could not stop.
To Mike, her hand was like a soft caress as she slid it down to feel the sturdiness of his ribs. He went still, disciplining himself with a tremor of effort that went throughout his body.
She reluctantly pulled her hand away when she realized what she had done.
"Mike…"Connie whispered her apology, "I didn't mean to...you have Carly after all..."
Mike had struggled with his feelings so long that his entire body ached for her.
"Connie," came his low, frustrated voice, "I have no one, but I wished I had you..."
The words needed to be said.
Mike knew he would never get this chance to get so close to her again. He now reached out and used the back of his hand to lightly touch her cheek, feeling its warm, velvety softness.
A current of pleasure went through Connie at the first contact to her cheek.
Mike barely seemed to breathe as his gaze lingered on her face and his hand sojourned down to hesitantly settle on her hip.
With his hand on a small part of her, he could feel the tremors that coursed through her body as well as his own. Pulling her closer, he ran his palm up the side of her body and Connie could feel a trail of sensation everywhere he touched. She closed her eyes for a moment, shivering, luxuriating in the feel of his touch. When she opened her eyes, all her hesitations had disappeared.
They were both silent, the heat of both their bodies mingling together.
The situation was getting out of hand.
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