The Reunion

Chapter 5

Connie could not believe it.

She could barely breathe. Mike was here; here in Los Angeles!

Her heart lurched at the sight of him and she worked at not blinking in a spasm of astonishment.

The unexpected presence of Mike Cutter caused a wonderful sensation to soothe over her, rather like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath after a gray winter day.

The feeling remained as Connie stared into the dreamy blues of his eyes. She could feel her cheeks warming as she tried to stop her inner flutterings. With the intense gaze he was flicking her way, it made it difficult for her to maintain a level of composure.

Mike, too, was just as mesmerized as he continued to look at her with his keen blue eyes. Her captivating expression was so open, so inviting, that he could not seem to look away.

"Ahem"

Beyond them, someone cleared her throat.

"Connie," Lizbeth broke into her thoughts, "aren't you going to introduce us to your …friend?"

"Yeah," agreed Heather, "where have you been hiding him?"

Lizbeth and Heather seemed to be gawking as Mike held a playful glint in his eyes while observing the two co-workers.

Connie was flooded with embarrassment as she realized she and Mike were not the only ones in the room. She turned to her two friends.

"Oh, of course!" Connie apologized, as she recited the two women's names to Mike, and then ended the introduction with"…and this is my former boss, Mike Cutter, from New York…"

Both her friends turned to look at her with stunned faces.

"Mike Cutter?" Lizbeth repeated breathlessly, obviously recognizing the name.

"This is your ex-boss?" added Heather.

The corners of Mike's mouth twitched with irrepressible amusement.

"You two ladies are scaring me now," he stated, "and Connie... what exactly have you been saying about me?"

"It's not what she said necessarily," Heather's eyes were wide, "it's what she didn't say about you!"

Lizbeth immediately elbowed her.

The situation would have almost been comical, had it not been for the fact that Connie just finished saying she didn't know any attractive men. Connie knew that after this, her friends would not let go of the fact that she had never mentioned Mike.

And why hadn't she mentioned Mike before? she pondered. After all, she certainly thought about him enough.

"Nice to meet you." Lizbeth was the first to recover as she smiled at Mike, "You'll have to excuse my friend. She works under a rock and rarely gets to see any men outside of this office."

"...Or at least I rarely get to see the right men," Heather flirted, as she asked Mike, "...so I gotta know...are there more prosecutors like you back East, Mr. Cutter?"

Connie winced for her friend, but Mike, fortunately, seemed to take it all in stride.

'"I'm sure Connie will say she'd hope not! " Mike managed to keep a straight face, "but in answer to your question about lawyers in New York, they are just like here in LA...they come in all different shapes, sizes, intellect, and integrity!"

"Oh my...and witty, too," Lizbeth lightly responded, as she shook Mike's hand.

Although Connie's face felt hot, she somehow managed to maintain a perfectly bland expression as Heather turned to Mike.

"All I can say," stated Heather, almost breathlessly, as she stuck out her hand to Mike, "is that when it's time for my bar exam, I'm heading out to New York City!"

There seemed to be a mischievous sparkle in Mike's eyes, "…and when you do visit New York, Heather, I have no doubt you will bring beauty and the sunshine along with you!"

Connie had to work at not rolling her eyes. His last statement had impressed Lizbeth and made Heather swoon. They furtively gave Connie a look that read 'he's-too-good-to-be-true!'

It seemed the Cutter charm was in full force today.

His lighthearted manner, however, did not dispel his attentiveness towards Connie as he turned to focus back on her. As she met his intense gaze, Connie felt a disturbing sense of intimacy that seemed to have blossomed in the air, and it scared and thrilled her at the same time.

Her heart was beating so fast it made her dizzy.

Taking in the entire situation, Lizbeth wisely concluded that it was best that she and her friend leave.

"Come on, Heather, " said Lizbeth, grabbing onto her arm, "let's go."

"...What? Now?" Heather never took her eyes off Mike as she felt Lizbeth grab her arm.

"We need to get back to work..but it was very nice meeting you, Mr. Cutter," Lizbeth said to Mike.

He tore his gaze away from Connie for a second to bid adieu to the two friends. Heather seemed to stumble along as Lizbeth dragged her reluctant friend away.

"Alright, sheesh!...I'm coming, Lizzie! " Heather said to her friend, as she tried to give Mike her brightest smile, "...and...I hope to see you later, Mr. Cutter!"

They were almost to the door and just for a second, everyone in the room feared Heather would grab onto the doorway in order to get her last peek at him.

"Just call me 'Mike'!" he almost shouted towards the exit door before the two women disappeared from Connie's office.

Alone at last, Connie immediately noticed the wicked glimmer in Mike's eyes.

"Your friends," he commented, with a wry smile, "are certainly...different."

Connie, too, had not expected that reaction from them.

"It's just fortunate that I'm here, Mike, " jested Connie, "then I could protect you against the crowd of admirers!"

Mike made a noncommittal sound, "Me? With admirers? That'll be the day!"

But Connie was barely aware of his responding comment, so enthralled was she that he had somehow made it to LA. All these months she had been thinking of him and now he was here, she mused, as a sweet ache formed inside of her.

Meanwhile, Mike breathed in deeply, the air in his lungs feeling free and relaxed at last. Seeing Connie again soothed away the empty ache he had been feeling every night for the past year.

"New York hasn't been the same without you," Mike admitted softly.

Connie's heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it down to her toes. Her mind was veering wildly between confusion and happiness at his words.

Was he implying that his arrival in Los Angeles concerned her?

He basically declared that he had missed her. Connie tried to calm her nerves.

"Is that why you're here, Mike?" she asked.

Mike had been expecting that question, yet he had no answer for it.

He wanted to tell her that she was the reason he flew out here, that he had never stopped thinking about her, but how could he let her know how deep his feelings went? After all, back in New York, they had only a comfortable working relationship. She was his colleague, not his lover, he had once told Jack.

Or at least, he thought that was how it was. However, if they had been merely co-workers, then why was it so difficult to tell her he was here on a case?

Maybe it was because of the way her lovely eyes filled with hope when she asked that question.

Connie's heart thundered in anticipation, feeling as though she may topple over if he didn't respond soon. She did not understand the hesitancy in his response.

"My purpose for being in L.A? ," he spoke at last, "the truth is…"

They were interrupted by a knock on Connie's opened door.

Both turned to see Jerry Hardin stride in. He appeared all businesslike as he approached them.

"I see you two are getting re-acquainted," he brusquely remarked, as he addressed Mike, "So...did Connie hand over to you the Paige Smith -or should I now say- the Paige Regan file yet?"

A look of incredulity crossed her face at Hardin's words.

"What?" Connie thought she heard wrong.

"All this time in here and you didn't tell her, Cutter?" Hardin tsked, "Unlike how you may run your office in New York, we don't spend our afternoons on idle chit-chat. This is a working office!"

Connie's expressive face clearly registered her conflicting emotions, as she turned back and eyed Mike. She felt the bottom falling from underneath her.

"T-the Paige Regan file?"

Mike let out a frustrated breath. Damn Hardin. This was not how he wanted Connie to find out.

"Connie, let me explain...I-I got a call in New York from Paige Regan," he found himself speaking fast, "she told me how the LA office refused to prosecute her case, and I felt we owed her…"

He wanted to explain better, but with Hardin crowding him, it was difficult.

Connie pursed her lips tightly.

"So, Mike, let me get this straight, "Connie restated, "You came all the way out here to take away my case?"

Her eyes narrowed in accusation as she noted Mike's hesitation. So the reason he was in LA had nothing to do with her.

When Mike looked at her face, he surprisingly didn't see anger or confusion in her eyes. He saw something worse…he saw…disappointment.

Meanwhile DA Hardin regarded both of them with avid curiosity as to what exactly was happening between the two. It hardly looked like two prosecutors passing a case around. He once again wondered if something had occurred between them back in New York.

Whatever it was, Hardin rather liked the disturbing tension between the two of them now.

"No, Connie," Mike was saying to her, "it's not like that! I didn't even know about your involvement in the case.."

"But surely you must have known that someone would be responsible for the case here?" Connie pointed out.

"But Paige said that this office had decided not to prosecute; that's why she called me, so I thought..." began Mike

But Connie had heard enough. She got it! Enough with the humiliation!

"You don't need to explain further, Mike," stated Connie coldly, "Obviously, this is your case, not mine!"

Looking down and quickly locating the Paige Regan file on her organized desk, Connie grabbed it off her desk.

"Here!" she bristled as she held the folder out to him, "You'll find all the papers you need to proceed on with the case! Now if you excuse me, I have plenty of work to do!"

Mike wordlessly accept the file while he viewed Connie with a regretful look.

Ignoring the two men in the room, Connie plopped herself at her desk and proceeded to pull out a different file. Her lips thinned and her body remained rigid while she stared down at the open folder's contents.

Mike noticed a frown had marred the smoothness of her brow as she read.

And then he wondered, how had such a promising start in Connie's office today end like this?

He wanted to tease and banter with her, like they had done in the past. He wanted to make her aware of him in the same way that he had always been aware of her.

But this would not be the time.

He knew if he said anything to her, she would retaliate with harsh words or simply ignore him. No, best to let her cool down and perhaps they could talk at a later time.

He glanced discreetly over at her, but she would not look up, would not acknowledge him. Glancing down at the Paige Regan file in his hand, Mike's expression was regretful as he spoke to her.

"Connie, let me just say this before I go...there have been only a handful of times in my life when I have been sorry to have gotten my way. This is one of them. I'm just so sorry we didn't get to talk more."

It was rare to hear a Mike Cutter apology.

For a split second when Connie heard the words, her heart softened. Any other time, his speech would have melted a glacier, but now it only strengthened her resolve.

Connie looked up at him, her jaw set.

In her small, lit office, every detail of his face was vivid. His gaze was filled with so much hurt, it was hard to look at him. Then she felt infuriated by her own reaction to him. To her, it showed a sign of her own weakness; after all, she was hurting, too!

"Good bye, Mike," she announced, trying to keep her voice from trembling," and good luck with your case."

She then reached for one of the inconsequential papers on her desk and crumpled it into a ball, before she threw it roughly into the wastepaper basket. The gesture had been intended to banish the tenseness in the room as well as appease her frustration, but it did neither.

The atmosphere remained heavy and electric, like the quietude that occurred just before a lightening storm.

"Cutter," DA Hardin gestured with his head towards the door, "You've got a case to file...I think you're done here..."

Hardin's comment cut short anything else that might be said between Connie and him.

Mike could do nothing but leave. He headed out.

At the doorway, Mike paused and turned around. Connie pretended to be absorbed in her work. He had no option but to leave. Hardin followed after him, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Only when she heard the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the hallway did Connie manage to glance up towards the empty doorway.

In all her dreams, her fantasies, her wishes, this was not how she envisioned their reunion at all.

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