It's awkward for Mike and Connie.
Chapter 11
Connie arrived in her suite and slammed the door. She placed her back against the door. Her hand flew up to her lips. She could still feel the pressure of the kiss.
She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. It had been sweet and sexual at the same time. She had felt her entire body responding. But then he stopped. Why? Had he realized he made a mistake?
Stupid me, stupid me, she thought. What was she thinking? Didn't she learn her lesson with Marcus Woll? Now another boss? Are these the only type of men she is attracted to? What is wrong with her?
Instead of a scarlet letter "s" on her chest, the entire alphabet should be branded on her, she thought.
But it was Mike. He wasn't just any boss. He was…more. He was funny. And intelligent. And sincere. And handsome. The list seemed endless. From the minute she saw him there was a connection.
She walked away from the door and sat on one of the French chairs in the suite. She placed her elbows on the mahogany table and put her head between her hands.
But these are her impressions of him. Mike was the one who had ended the kiss. How did Mike feel about her?
Mike was back in his suite, looking out at the view of the New York City skyline.
The silhouette of buildings displayed a compact and overwhelming collection of international business structures. He half focused on the view, lost in thought.
I'm her boss, he thought. Didn't he tell Jack they were co-workers, not lovers? He had made a promise to himself that he would not cross that line. They needed to keep a professional relationship. But she had been in such intimate proximity to him And the way she had gazed at him with bold intensity. It was too inviting. She looked sweet and alluring. Then she touched him, and his resistance dissolved. At that moment, he had acted on his desires.
And that was his mistake, he determined.
After all, he had to work with her daily. Will he ever forget the image of Connie in his arms? The feel of her soft curves? How could he even look at her again without desiring her?
Connie must have two impressions of him now. One, as a scum bucket and two, a sleaze bag, he thought wryly.
Could they ever get back to where they were before?
Morning had arrived and both would know the answers to their confused feelings.
The ride to Rikers Island had been awkward.
Neither knew how to broach the subject of their shared embrace last night. They drove on, with Connie behind the wheel again.
Thankfully the ride would not be long, but they needed to fill the air with words. Mike instead explained how he had talked with Bernard and Lupo late yesterday night. The good news was they were able to find the name of Volchek's cellmate at Rikers, a lifer, by the name of Rowdy Smith. He gave her a little background on Smith.
The detectives said they also did some research on the new office intern Tim Vilsky and found, in fact, they couldn't find much in way of a background, so that information alone implied he must be under some type of alias. They would need extra time to research his real name.
The pieces were all starting to fall together.
After relaying the information, Mike felt he should at least attempt to find out Connie's feeling about what occurred at his suite last night.
"Did you want to talk about what happened yesterday?" Mike stared out the window as he sat on the passenger side of the Mercedes.
Connie couldn't even begin to deal with the myriad of feelings she was experiencing. She wanted to tell him how long she had been hoping something would happen between them, yet knowing that it could not happen as long as they worked together. Plus admitting this might open her up to rejection again.
"Maybe we should deal with this afterwards. I think it's enough to concentrate on trying to stay alive."
Perhaps this was for the best, Mike thought. They needed to stay focused on the task before them. But it was difficult to get the image of Connie's caress out of his mind. They had shared an intimate moment together. He enjoyed the kiss. Enjoyed it was an understatement. All through the sleepless night he kept replaying it in his mind.
He must somehow refocus. Right now they needed to convince a convicted criminal at Rikers to inform on his former cell-mate.
"So what will be our cover when we meet Rowdy Smith?" Connie broke the silence. "
"What cover?" Mike asked back to reality, "We'll be playing the parts of two cold, professional lawyers named Mike Cutter and Connie Rubirosa."
Any other time, Connie would have thought Mike was being subtly satirical, but right now, in this situation, she felt annoyed.
They were quiet the rest of the short drive.
They were alone with their own thoughts.
The prison room at Rikers Island was quiet and isolated. Barred doors and windows added to the atmosphere. The room was purposely devoid of any distractions except a table with four chairs. The light above had been arranged so interrogators had a full view of the inmate's facial expressions.
Rowdy Smith was led in. He was big, but soft in the body. His shaved head glistened from the overhead lighting. Tattoos were seared on his upper arms. He had a long beard. He gave no indication of recognizing neither Mike nor Connie.
"Who the hell are you two and what do you want?" he asked, disinterested.
He flopped on the chair. He looked at Mike and then when he saw Connie, he eyed her hungrily up and down.
I need a shower, Connie disgustedly thought.
Mike introduced the two of them by name.
Rowdy gave a malicious smile, showing crooked and stained teeth.
"So you those two damn lawyers Volchek's always talking about," he smirked, nodding his head back and forth.
"Care to elaborate, Mr. Smith?" Connie asked.
"With you, anytime, Babydoll," he said.
Mike's face showed anger and he started to rise, but Connie held him back and indicated for him to stay in his seat.
Despite being repelled by Rowdy Smith, she leaned forward.
"Mr. Smith, " she said in a low, steady tone, "I must ask that you show a little respect for New York prosecutors. The reality is you are in here. We are out there. We are capable of many things."
"You don't scare me none," Rowdy's voice was gruff, "I'm already serving a life sentence with no possibility of parole. You've got nothin' to bargain with, nothin'."
"Let's just say we have your entire record," Connie maintained in a somewhat threatening tone, "We know about your ex-girlfriend, your mother, and your cousin Roy, among others. You wouldn't want them to be inconvenienced in the future if, let's say, they received a traffic ticket or got a DUI, would you? Because looking at their past records, they have run into these type of minor offenses often before. But they've always managed to slip by with just a slap on the wrist. But that is in the past. I think in the future, they may have a rough road ahead. And if they commit even bigger violations such as, oh, maybe drug possession or assault, I fear they may get the maximum sentence possible."
"H-e-y. You threatenin' them?" Rowdy's bravado was gone. He turned to Mike, "Is this Bit—lady lawyer threatenin' them? Cuz that means that she's threatenin' me, too."
Mike pretended to look surprised. "What threats? I hear no threats. It's just conjecture. I don't think we can say for certain what will happen to your friends and family in the future. She's just pointing out that you are in here with no power for what goes on out there. Just think about that, Mr. Smith."
Rowdy looked from one lawyer to another. Neither one looked away.
Rowdy put his head down, thinking.
"Okay…let's say…let's just say," he began as he looked up at them again, "that I've got some info…like I know where Volchek is stayin right now."
"Go ahead, Mr. Smith," Mike encouraged, "we're listening."
Rowdy shook his head, "No, no no. I ain't just gonna tell you. No siree. You gotta do somethin' for me first."
Mike and Connie looked at each other.
"Is it something illegal?" Mike asked.
Rowdy gave his ugly smile again, slightly astounded that the two lawyers were even considering his idea.
"Nah. Just gotta do me one favor. I can't do it 'cuz like you said, I'm in here," he looked at them both, "but both of you are out there."
Mike and Connie looked at each other again.
"Tell us what you want, Mr. Smith," assured Connie.
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