3. Love Ballad, continued
AN: Thank you for reviewing the last installment of Love Ballad. Life has been a little crazy lately but I thought I'd come up for air if only for a few hours. I've been writing this chapter for some time now so I hope you enjoy it.
THEN, Part III
Michonne
At precisely seven o'clock that evening, Aaron joined Sasha and me at the bar. Naturally, he missed the cinq à sept but before us were twelve tequila shots and a beer each. It was shaping up to be the kind of a night where Sasha and I would be sloshed before midnight and totally useless tomorrow so Aaron had to catch up.
"It's that kind of night, eh?" he asked, kissing my cheek then Sasha's and slid onto the barstool next to me.
I gave him a small smile.
"All for one and one for all," Sasha slurred, raising her glass in a toast and we followed suit.
Within minutes of sitting down and taking a drink, Aaron brought him up. God love her, Sash was trying but with reinforcement on the other side of me, the night could only go one way—down the crapper.
"So? I told you he'd fall for you," his blue eyes danced mischievously in his head. "Three days and you have him all flustered. Noah said he looked like a lil puppy with sad eyes hangin' around your desk."
"Shut up and drink," I yelled at him over the music and pushed two of my shots in front of him encouraging him to catch up.
"She did no such thang, that tricky dick Rick is one slick motherfuckah. He got our girl all hot under the collar then left her high and dry. He's playing the long game, he wants her to beg for it."
"Which she won't of course and neither of us will win."
"Seriously, you two; is that your take away from all this—not the underhanded way he went about keeping me downstairs?"
Sasha slammed her shot glass onto the bar, placed a slice of lime between her lips, squeezed her eyes shut real tight and sucked on it. She shook her head and her long natural curls curtained her face for a moment. She then tossed her head back with a wide grin and her mane fanned out like a halo around her head.
"Ahhhh. Don't worry, sweetie, he jus' practicin' to be your big daddy. You know with that walk of his—" and fans herself for emphasis, "it can't be anything less. You won't be disappointed." Sasha licked her lips then cackled.
"So, I'm thinkin' Labour Day. Yeah, Labour Day— that in-between place— the grey area where shit happens."
"Dumbass, unless you be invitin' 'im to Montreal with us, it will be someone else an' long before that. Plus, why so far down the line that's six months away."
"Well, you know she's pissed so they have to get past this rough patch first, which ain't likely to happen until they get some distance between 'em."
"I'm sitting right here guys," I felt a little left out sitting between them and the subject of their discussion. I shook my head accepting that changing their minds was a losing battle. "Y'all couldn't pay me enough to sleep with his sorry old ass."
"Old? Sweetheart—no, that's experience which is exactly what you need. But if he wants his ass fucked, well, that's a whole other story." Aaron winked then licked the salt from his forehand downed the shot and chased it with a bite into the slice of lime then a swig of his beer.
It was pointless really, I swear sometimes these two would sell me to the highest bidder if the situation presented itself while firmly believing they were doing me a solid. Of course, I had no one to blame but myself when we got sloshed consoling Sasha through yet another break-up. My loose lips spilled details of my personal life which neither were drunk enough to forget.
My friend's gentle ribbing might have been funny on any other night but not tonight. Unfortunately, when Sash suggested letting our hair down, this was not exactly what I had in mind. And it seemed no amount of drinking would banish him from my thoughts, Rick Grimes weighed heavily on my mind. There was no escaping him because the man who caused my shitty mood was still very much present like a ghost whose presence was felt but unseen.
I'm usually a happy drunk but tonight I couldn't even get that right so, in addition to his shady ass backdoor dealings with Philip, I was also pissed at him for killing my buzz. I took a swig of my beer and then slid off the stool kissed my friend's goodnight a called a night. They protested my decision but I didn't want to be a wet blanket on their night out. Rick Grimes was my problem, one I intend to handle.
…
Love
I never knew that a touch
Could mean
So much
What a difference
And when we walk hand-in-hand
I feel
So real
…
Monday morning...
I sat at my desk and bided my time until Beth arrived. I knew she started at eight so I called her five minutes after her start time.
"Mr. Grimes office," Beth's ever-cheerful voice came through the receiver.
"Beth, it's Michonne, I need to see him as soon as he arrives."
"No problem, would you like me to put it in his agenda or do you just want to pop in like a quickie?"
"No. A quickie will be just fine, thanks."
"I got you, girl. I'll shoot you a text as soon as he arrives," the perky little blonde added and hung up.
Was it me, or has everybody gotten a secret memo or something? All these innuendo's.
...
Fifteen minutes later, I received a text so I grabbed my phone and made for the elevator.
Minutes later, I knocked on his door. "Come in, Beth."
I opened the door and entered the room and almost simultaneously he looked away from his screen as I slammed the door behind me. He was expecting me; perhaps, not that very instant but he most definitely was expecting me because he had a smug look on his face.
…
Rick
There was a knock on my door. I expected Beth with my coffee but as soon as the door opened I got a whiff of her fragrance, so I looked up.
Ordinarily, Michonne's a beautiful woman on any given day but at this moment, she was even more beautiful than the first day I laid eyes on her. She was angry and the energy propelled her but it didn't own her. Her shiny black eyes were even more intense than the day we met. It felt good to know that she could be rattled.
Her dreads were wrapped into some type of an updo. Diamond studs sparkled from her dark lobes. This time, her lips were shiny but natural. She wore an emerald green knit ribbed long-sleeved dress which covered her elegant neck and accentuated every curve of her lithe body. My eyes appreciated the vision before me and monetarily I forget to breathe. I couldn't understand this pull she had over me. She was TROUBLE. I knew it. I felt it but yet I still pushed her.
She didn't cower. Instead, her fierceness surfaced. She reminded me of a tigress and her intense eyes were laser-focused on me sizing me up for the kill.
"How dare you?" she cried out, walking over to my desk. I knew she wanted to say more, perhaps even fly across my desk and slap my face. Hell, I deserved it but she held back—even her fury was contained, she would not allow herself to lose control. She held it in like the contours of the ribbed fabric which concealed and clung to every sleek curve of her body and fell mid-thigh exposing her long legs. She was right, what the hell was I thinking? I should have let it go but I just couldn't walk away from her. It was like walking a tightrope without a safety net. I was a moth drawn to her flame. I was selfish but she was damn good at her job and I knew she would make a damn good litigator someday and lucky for me, Philip felt the same way.
"Good morning, Michonne." I greeted in a calm unassuming manner, which was akin to adding butane on a low burning flame.
"Is it, Rick? Do you really think it's a good morning?" she asked, glaring at me with daggers for eyes.
"Why?" she asked as she continued her interrogation of me.
"I don't understand why you are so upset, you basically told me how to fix my problem, so I did."
"Did it ever occur to you to ask me what I want or are you the type of man who does whatever the fuck he wants and begs for forgiveness after the fact?"
"In most cases, yes. But consent is important for certain thangs." Fuck! What the fuck am I saying.
"I never wanted this. You had no right." she retorted and spat the words at me in the same controlled manner.
"You will learn more under me than you ever will in that fishbowl and you know it."
"Under you? You must think quite highly of yourself but I'm not that kind of a girl. Plus, I don't recall asking for your help. I had a plan and you fucked it up?"
"Oh really? You could have said no but from what I hear you drive a pretty damn hard bargain. You knew damn well Philip would cave and give you anythang you wanted to keep you here."
"I earned everything I asked for. There's no one else here that could take care of his office and yours at the same time."
"I won't argue with that. Plus, it doesn't hurt to have the managing partner as your godfather."
I watched as her mouth closed, swallowing whatever she was about to say. That knowledge was not widely known and she was even more pissed that I knew it. Watching her fascinates me.
"You are truly a despicable human being," she spat back.
"You wouldn't be the first person to tell me that nor would you be the last. I don't need you to love me, I just have to know what I'm working with. You have talent, Michonne and you shouldn't waste it."
"I didn't know that I was wasting my life but thanks for the advice. Just so you know, I don't want to work with you nor for you."
"Being a smartass won't get you anywhere either. You know Philip didn't get to the top without having to pay his dues in the trenches. He started out in litigation."
She shook her head in disbelief and turned to leave and I found myself suddenly bereft and disappointed. "What, have you got nothing more to say for yourself? I can't imagine Barrington Stone's daughter does not have a closing argument."
I knew that would definitely get a reaction from her. Once Philip let it slip that she was his goddaughter, it wasn't hard to figure it out. He had once thrown a glass clear across the room when his daughter, Penny announced she would be articling at Stone's law firm. It seems both daughters were rather strong-willed that way.
"Yeah, she does have a closing statement, FUCK YOU! By the way, I am not feeling well today, I will be taking a sick day." She retorted then turned once more and crossed the room, opened the door and walked out slamming it behind her.
I smiled. Was I pleased with violating her privacy the way I had? No, but one must know their enemy and keep them close and I know for a fact, in the next few years, there will be times when she'll think of me as such but the only thang that matters was her success. Plus, if she hated me, naturally, my little problem would resolve itself too.
…
Michonne
Oh my God, he was an insufferable narcissist. Who the fuck died and left him, king?
Rick Grimes was far worse than the stories that filtered through the lunchrooms. He was every bit as ruthless as Philip and my father. He needed total control. He needed to win at all costs. He used my family against me and for that, I hated him. It was a personal attack. He had no right, the only thing that mattered in this situation was my competency.
Personal feelings aside though, he spoke some hard truths. I needed litigation experience because in corporate we almost never saw the inside of a courtroom. He was the best at what he did and I understood why Philip would give his blessings to the union but it certainly didn't mean I had to like him.
As I stormed out of his office, I wanted to cry but I couldn't so I went back to the fishbowl to ensure Philip had all he required for his meeting. One look at him and he seemed happier than he did two weeks earlier when Sasha informed him that my name was picked for the first rotation in litigation, which incidentally came as I just delivered the news that I would be moving away from home and would only be working part-time on my breaks if he'd have me.
Today, however, he seemed rather relaxed, probably from a combination of having figured out a way to thwart my plans and spending the weekend with the new articling student. In any event, I took advantage of his jovial mood and told him I wasn't feeling well. He insisted I take a couple of days off and we'd talk once I'm back in the office. Based on that, I guessed the news would not be coming from HR after all since Rick had already given me a heads up whether he meant to or not. Poor Botoxed, I thought with a small smile on my face as I left Philip's office.
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