A visitor

Chapter 4

The Next Day

It was lunchtime and Connie Rubirosa was once again looking over a case file. All around her, she could feel the office slowly emptying. She looked up as her two work friends now hovered over her desk, trying to convince her to join them for lunch.

"Come on, Connie!" encouraged Lizbeth, "It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, Con! " joined in Heather, a paralegal, "you haven't been out for lunch all week!"

With the week Connie had been having, the lunch invitation did sound tempting.

She had been so disappointed over losing the opportunity to try the Paige Regan case, that originally she had decided to push forward with her other cases, even working through lunch. Now at the prospect of talking gossip and eating hot food from a restaurant, her spirits lifted.

Why not? She thought, everyone deserves a break from the routine.

"That sounds great! Thanks ladies!" she smiled amidst the simple cheers from her two friends.

She opened her desk drawer to get her purse as Lizbeth and Heather continued jabbering next to her.

Yes, Connie convinced herself, as she slammed her drawer and stood, ready for lunch, she certainly deserved this!

.

District Attorney Jerry Hardin gazed out his windowed office to look at his workers breaking for lunch. They showed exuberance on their faces as they happily hustled out of their cubicles, glad to take a break from the relentless workload that continually inundated the office.

The busy hum of the office dissipated as more bodies left the confines of the workspace.

He couldn't help but watch with fascination as his newest prosecutor, Connie Rubirosa, got up from her desk and joined the two other associates, talking and laughing harmoniously as they left for lunch.

Jerry shook his head while grinning to himself, as he tried to concentrate on the papers in front of him.

Connie Rubirosa.

He had met some classy women in his day, but that woman was in a category all by herself. Not only did she have the looks of an angel, she had the legal mind and tenacity to be one of his best prosecutors ever.

And just for a second, he allowed his mind to wander into the impossible. He pictured himself at his next boring political function with Connie hanging on his arm, looking stately and elegant. She would charm the entire room with her wit, beauty and intelligence. His contemporaries would be crawling all over themselves just to have her look their way.

If only he were 25 years younger, he wistfully sighed.

But he wasn't. That was life and the reality of it was that his office had lucked out when she came to work here. Connie Rubirosa was a bright, hardworking prosecutor, willing to put in the long hours required for this job. She definitely had a future here.

And he would do anything to keep her in Los Angeles.

"District Attorney Jerry Hardin?"

An unrecognizable male voice interrupted his thoughts.

Bringing his attention to the present, Hardin looked up towards his office doorway, his sharp mind now focused on the distinguished-looking male who was at his doorway.

Jerry Hardin prided himself on being about to spot another lawyer a million miles away. Even in regular street clothing, the unknown visitor had "attorney" stamped all over him. Of course, it also helped that this individual stood imposingly confident while holding a leatherbound briefcase.

Jerry could tell that this stranger was a force to be reckon with.

"Yes?"

Mike strode in, while at the same time, reaching out his hand.

"I'm Mike Cutter."

Jerry slightly furrowed his brow at the sound of the name, Mike Cutter.

Where had he heard that name before?

Hardin diplomatically stood up, reached over his desk and shook the visitor's hand before gesturing for Cutter to sit down.

"Yes, …and what can I do for you, uh, Mr. Cutter?"

Hardin sat back down and noted how Cutter sank with ease in the seat.

Then Cutter focused a level gaze at him.

"To put it as succinctly as possible, Mr. Hardin, I've come to take over the Paige Regan case," Mike explained, "Yesterday, I was informed no formal charges would be filed from this office, so I flew over from my New York office immediately in hopes of personally bringing this to trial."

...from New York? Something in Jerry's mind clicked.

Yes, of course! Now Jerry knew the name! ThatMike Cutter, the Executive Assistant District Attorney from New York City. Connie's former boss.

But wait... did Hardin hear correctly? Did Cutter just announce that he was here to take over one of Jerry's cases?

Preposterous! That's something that would never happen...

"I'm sorry you had made such a long trip over here in vain," said Hardin in a dismissive tone, "but our office has already made the decision not to file and that is our final decision."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have been so hasty," suggested Mike, in an assured manner, "I think we have a case here, so I plan to file charges on behalf of your office."

What? Jerry Hardin shot a look of disdain at the man sitting across from him.

Who did this underling think he was, to come in and place demands on the District Attorney of Los Angeles! The very idea made him feel like exploding.

"The hell you say!" objected Hardin.

"No need to feel threatened, Mr. Hardin, " stated Mike, "It's not like I'm pulling rank on you."

The tension in the air was palpable.

"But that is exactly what you are doing!" insisted Hardin, "How dare you come from out of state and tell me what you plan to do here without getting my approval first! I am the elected District Attorney for all of Los Angeles! And you... Mr. Cutter... you... are merely a prosecutor from another state, and have absolutely no standing here whatsoever!"

"Since job titles seem so important to you, let me inform you of something!" stated Mike emphatically, "I am actually the Bureau Chief of the Special Victims Unit in New York, and therefore, technically, that would put you and me at the same level!"

Leaning forward in his chair, Hardin balled up one fist and pounded it on his desk.

"Same level, my foot!" Hardin blasted back,"Listen, this is MY domain! You don't come in here and take over one of my cases! That is NOT happening!...And need I remind you, Cutter, that you have absolutely no authority to practice law here!"

Humph! That should put Cutter in his place! Hardin thought.

"There are two points I would like to make, Mr. Hardin," Mike kept his voice controlled, "Number one, You had not planned on bringing about charges, so in theory, I will NOT be taking over one of your cases; And number two…"

Mike opened his case and brought out a five- page stapled pile of papers. He reached forward and flung it on Hardin's desk.

"…I've already filed a pro hac vice, which in summary states that I may temporarily prosecute a case in a different state as long as my credentials from my home state are updated and valid. Which it is. In addition, with this being a special victim's case, I believe my expertise will be invaluable to this particular case. Go ahead and look through the papers... Pro hac vice; it's all signed and legally documented."

"Christ! You don't need to define a legal term for me!" exclaimed Hardin, "I know exactly what a pro hac vice is, Cutter! I'm no first year law student!"

Hardin grabbed the papers and aggressively flipped the pages, looking for the appropriate signatures.

"Then you can see that everything is in order…so, if I may have the file, please," asked Mike politely.

Hardin worked to keep his temper in place. He certainly did not want to hand the file over to this...this...outsider, but Cutter had him over a barrel. Hardin sat back with a look of defeat. He threw down the stapled papers disgustedly on his desk.

Hardin knew he needed to calm down. His many years of experience told him nothing was worth getting all worked up over. He rubbed his forehead until his anger abated. Gone was the irritable tone when he next addressed Mike.

"I gave the file to my DDA... " he relented, with a brush of his hand, "You know her, Connie Rubirosa."

Hardin did a double take when he looked over for Cutter's reaction. He thought he caught a glint in Mike's eyes at the mention of Connie's name.

What the hell? Did those two have something going on when she worked over there in New York? he wondered to himself. Hardin's eyes narrowed at his new unwanted, unnecessary, temporary prosecutor.

Somehow, Hardin concluded, he had a feeling that the operation of his efficient office just hit a snag.

.

.

Connie was glad she had gone out to lunch. She felt refreshed and relaxed as she and her two office mates returned back to the office.

"…And Connie," said Lizbeth, excitedly as she crowded closer to Connie while they walked down the office aisle, "Did you see how the guy at the bar was eyeing you?"

"Major cute factor! "agreed Heather, "I mean, he was a real hottie!"

Connie smiled weakly, "You two know I am too busy to even think of having a relationship now!"

"That's just an excuse, Connie, and you know it!" stated Heather.

"Heather's right, you know. You need to get out there, Connie!" insisted Lizbeth.

Heather sighed, "Is it really too much, world, to ask for a rich, good looking man?

"...maybe not the rich part so much," countered Lizbeth, "but let him be intelligent, with, oh I don't know...with gorgeous, sparkling eyes..."

"Oooh, sparkling eyes, " giggled Heather, "and don't forget he should be debonair and..."

Heather jabbered on with her wish list requirements for a man as the three approached Connie's office.

"God, Con! "continued on Heather, "With your looks, you should have guys crawling all over you! But first, you gotta let guys know you're available! It's like you haven't gone out on a date since you've been to LA... don't you think it's about time?"

Heather could be a little man-crazy, but she did have a point.

"Well, that would be nice except I just don't know any men I find attractive!" countered Connie, breezily, "Maybe there just isn't a man for m-"

Entering her office, Connie suddenly stopped midstep and made an audible gasp. Her two friends, not expecting Connie's halted step, almost ran right into her. But Connie wasn't even aware of the close call.

For there in the visitor's chair of her office sat Michael Cutter.

The sight of Mike was unexpectedly startling. He looked boyishly handsome in his everyday clothes, a coat slung over his two clasped arms that he held in front of him, his briefcase resting to the side of him.

He slowly rose from the chair as the three women entered her office, but his blue eyes were only focused intently on Connie.

Connie heard Heather's under-her-breath response to her new visitor.

"Wow!"

That word said it all for Connie as she stared at him, riveted.

It had been over a year since they had seen each other.

Mike's had earlier witnessed Connie strolling down the aisle, looking fresh and happy. She truly was like a breath of fresh air had blown in. As she stood before him now, he realized she wasn't nearly as beautiful as he remembered.

She was even more so.

Connie's hair had grown out and softly framed her face in shimmering auburn waves. Her elegant cheekbones looked flushed and her lips appeared sensually full. And then there were her eyes. Her exquisite eyes were looking at him as if she could read what he felt in his heart.

At the same time, Connie observed Mike. Warm and inviting were two words that came to her mind. With his casual cozy, layered clothes, he looked as though he should be at home snuggled up to a good book. And once again, she was looking into the all-too-familiar devilment sparkle of his deep blue eyes.

She drew in a deep breath, hoping it would calm the rushing in her ears, the mad pulsing flutter in her throat.

And from his office, Jerry Hardin had witnessed it all.

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