A morning meeting

Chapter 6

The next morning, Mike had arrived early in the office. He had set up an appointment to talk with Paige Regan.

Mike was sure that DA Hardin had it out for him, although he couldn't quite figure out why. He theorized that Hardin probably did not appreciate an outside source taking over one of his local cases, although, technically, charges would not have been filed had Mike not been involved.

But that point seemed moot to Hardin.

The idea that Hardin harbored bad feelings was later confirmed when Hardin deliberately situated Mike in a distant small desk away from the other prosecutors. It was in an opened area mostly reserved for paralegals or law clerks.

Obviously, Hardin was trying to make a statement about how he felt about Mike's status in the Los Angeles DA's office.

Mike just basically shrugged it off.

Location was of no matter to him. He didn't require a private office or a large desk. Just give him a desk with Wi-Fi access and he was good to go.

Meanwhile, at exactly 7am, Connie had just arrived at her office.

As she placed her purse on her desk, she pretended to be casually looking around at the scattered number of early risers at their desks, but in reality, her eagle eyes were only watching out for one person.

And he was there.

She spotted Mike on the other side of the room, at one of the smaller desks. Serves him right for taking away a case she was to be lead attorney on, she thought. Let the great Mike Cutter sit with the law clerks!

But Connie truly did not feel that way.

She was just ...hurting. Yesterday she had been caught off-guard at his presence. She recalled how her heart had changed rhythm at the sight of him in her office. The rest of the time was spent trying to think beyond her heart's rapid thundering.

And during that awkward time she had allowed herself to think, just think that he might have been here to see her, that he had plans to whisk her back to New York.

Even to herself, it sounded ridiculous. She needed to stop thinking of the fairy tale ending.

But like romantics everywhere, Connie dreamed someday of giving her heart to someone, of someday falling in love. But somehow the opportunity never presented itself in her life. She sometimes wondered if she would remain alone for the rest of her life, if she would ever find someone who could measure up to Mi…

No, no, STOP...she did not want to reach the end of that thought! Plus, wasn't she supposed to be upset with him for taking away her case? Wasn't that why she had lashed out yesterday?

She wasn't sure why she had been so upset yesterday. Yesterday had been one long emotional roller coaster ride.

Connie couldn't keep her eyes from darting over to Mike, busily working at his humbled desk. She thought of going over there, of greeting him, and then saying what?

No, her pride wouldn't allow it.

She finally sat down at her desk and put her purse in her drawer. There was much work to be done, but she yearned for just one more look.

While seated, Connie angled her body slightly right to get an unobstructed view. Through her office window, she saw Heather approaching Mike, an enthusiastic smile on her face. Mike was now laughing at something Heather was saying...

"If you lean any further, you'll soon be lying prone on your desk..."

Connie had been so immersed in what was happening outside her office, she had not realized Joe Dekker standing in her office.

A flush rose all the way to her cheeks as Dekker approached her desk.

Connie cleared her throat, as she busily began straightening papers on her desk.

"Joe," Connie acknowledged, unable to look at him just yet.

That was about the extent of their greetings. For the entire time she had known DDA Decker, they had never bothered with friendly salutations.

She hoped he hadn't noticed why she was staring out her window.

No such luck. Dekker came over to take a look out of her office and snorted when he spotted Mike.

"Cutter." He seethed, with loathing in his voice, "Hardin told me how he came blowing in here like the Santa Ana winds yesterday, demanding to take over one of our cases!"

Connie tried to appear nonchalant as she continued to organize her desk, " I heard that, too..."

"Cutter was always too arrogant for his own good!" There was disdain in his tone.

Connie stopped her movements to look up at him. His last remark almost made Connie want to defend Mike.

Almost.

"Is there a reason why you're at my desk so early in the morning, Joe?" Connie asked, wanting to divert attention away from the subject of Mike.

"How's the Cooper trial coming along?" he asked, somewhat impatiently.

"Well, I'm readying the paperwork for the trial this afternoon," Connie explained pulling out the file, "On their schedule, the defense plans to first call 16-year-old eyewitness Matthew Marks to the stand to provide a description of the gunman who supposedly will not match their man, Cooper."

"So we break down the kid's credibility," stated Dekker, "that'll be easy to do. When I'm done with my cross examination of him, little Mattie won't be able to disitinguish his left foot from his right foot."

"I don't know, Joe," Connie sounded doubtful, "Jurists hate prosecutors who browbeat kids through intimidation."

Joe peered over at Connie. Theirs had never been a harmonious legal partnership. It always seemed that when he zigged, she zagged.

"So you expect me to handle him with kid gloves, just because he's a kid? You can forget that strategy! I intend to nail that b*stard, Cooper, to the wall and I'll gladly demolish anyone who stands in the way of that!" Joe exclaimed.

Connie could feel a headache coming on.

First she had to deal with the defense attorney on the Paige Regan case, then deal with her feelings seeing Mike after a year's separation, and now deal with an argumentative Dekker on a case. It seemed as though she went from one trying situation to the next.

"I just think there is another tactic we can use besides picking on a scared juvenile on the stand," Connie suggested.

Joe looked unconvinced.

"Oh, so you have a better idea?" he asked sardonically, as he now took a seat next to her desk and folded his arms, "Go ahead...let's hear it."

Connie shuffled through the papers in the Cooper file, pulling out one to show Dekker.

"Let Matthew testify. At best, you might imply that he had been distracted with his Ipod. But we then move quickly on, show that his testimony is not of value. The defense's next witness will be Cooper himself. We can lessen the impact of Matthew's testimony by showing how Cooper lied to police, bring his credibility into question. He confessed to police that he shot the victim but later redacted and claimed he was hours away. I think we would be more successful breaking down his testimony than that of a young, inexperienced witness."

Joe listened, "I hear you, Connie…but I say we do both…I still think our cross examination of the boy needs to be extremely aggressive."

"Joe, I don't think—"

But Dekker was already up, "No, I've decided. We'll leave no stone unturned. That son-of-a-b*tch is going down for second -degree murder! See you in court this afternoon!"

And with not so much as a good bye, Joe Dekker got up and left Connie's office.

Once again, it was as if Joe did not take her suggestions seriously; she never seemed to contribute to a case. At least here in LA.

With a sigh, Connie picked up her coffee to calm her nerves. Her mug felt light in her hand and she slightly tilted it to view the inside.

Empty… oh of course it would be empty...she had just walked in..

Had the day only begun?

She already had a frustrating start to the morning and this afternoon did not look any more promising with having to sit through the defense side of the Cooper trial.

Connie got up to go to the breakroom to fill her coffee mug.

The little snack area was located in a small corner near the paralegal area. Though she knew she would pass Mike's desk, she avoided looking in that direction. She certainly did not need to deal with another awkward situation.

She entered the breakroom...and she tried to temper the leap in her heart.

Mike was there, although he was not aware of her presence yet.

He was standing next to the coffeemaker, reading the words on the coffee can. She initially thought she should hightail out of there, but she couldn't help watching him with interest as he painstakingly tried to decipher the instructions on the back of the can. A scowl had appeared on his face.

Alternately, he would look at the coffeepot, and then back to the instructions, and then back to the coffeepot.

Connie tried to hide a smile at his lack of knowledge with such a simple chore. His baffled attempt in making coffee softened her agitated feelings towards him.

Unexpectedly, he looked up and her breath caught. His startled expression showed that he was just as surprise to see her standing in front of him.

"Mike," she was the first to recover.

For a second Mike was staring at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. It seemed as if he were debating what to say to her. At last he gestured towards the coffeemaker.

"I know it's not rocket science, Connie, " he stated, looking puzzled, "but is there an easy way I can get one single cup of coffee out of this contraption?"

He looked so helpless that Connie couldn't stop her eyes from sparkling with amusement as she walked over to him.

"First off, " Connie explained, "One must learn to identify appliances correctly. This is not called a contraption; it's known as a coffeemaker.."

"Ahhh, " Mike nodded understandably, "Cof-fee-mak-er...did I get all the syllables in the right order?"

Though she tried, Connie could not hide her smile.

"Well done, Mike...and as far as it not being rocket science," Connie empathized, "...it could seem that way, if a person had never made coffee before...allow me to show you the intricacies of this important morning routine."

She then reached over and flipped opened a nearby box to retrieve a singular coffee filter. Holding the item up so that Mike could clearly see it, she then placed the filter in the filter basket of the coffeemaker.

He nodded knowingly at the filter placement. Connie next pointed at the coffee can he held in his hand.

"May I?" she asked as she prudently took the coffee can from him.

His eyes were watching her intently.

She couldn't stop the prickling sensation as she sensed the nearness of him.

When she opened the lid of the coffee can, the smell of the fresh coffee grounds assailed their senses.

"Mmmm...doesn't that smell wonderful so early in the morning?," Connie asked as she took a whiff. She couldn't help the smile that came to her lips.

"...absolutely wonderful..." restated Mike, although the implication seemed different.

Connie tried not to read too much into his statement. It was hard to keep her voice steady as she continued the instructions.

"Now, here is how to make an ideal cup of coffee," Connie explained, as she measured out the coffee grounds and put them in the filter, "The standard ratio is two tablespoons of coffee grounds for every six ounces of water you plan to brew."

He heard the words, but he was more aware of how close she was standing to him.

Watching her perform this simplest of chores had an effect on Mike. It somehow felt so homey, so domesticated. He again was reminded of how much he missed her daily presence back in New York.

"Let me get this straight," he pretended to look overwhelmed, "One filter? Two tablespoons? Six ounces? So I was right...it is like rocket science!"

"Perhaps...now, it's vital you watch this next step, Mike," she feigned seriousness, "Control is all important here."

He observed as she wordlessly poured the measured water into the coffee maker.

"I see... " he half-joked as he peered over, "so...you must pour the water, correct?"

"Yes," agreed Connie, "Pour is the key word here; Remember, do not throw. Do not drop. Pour."

"And me without my notebook and pen, today!"

She was enjoying his company far too much. Connie was still smiling as she emptied the remainder of the water into the coffeepot.

She was almost done.

"Wait! Allow me to finish the task!" volunteered Mike.

He made a huge gesture of plugging the unit in and flipping the switch.

"Ta-dah!" he held his arms out like it had been an elaborate presentation, "Look at me...the Norman Einstein of the coffee world!"

Connie could not help the tiny laugh that escaped from her lips.

"Norman Einstein, Mike?"

Instantly the coffeemaker started percolating and the familiar aroma of coffee began to drift invitingly throughout the room.

And for just a moment in time, they had enjoyed the pleasure of working as a team again.

"Can't start work without my coffee you know!" Mike commented, "For me, all that caffeine isn't a drug, it's a vitamin!"

"I agree," nodded Connie, "and don't forget, a morning without coffee...is sleep!"

The morning suddenly seemed so much brighter.

Mike proudly poured the first cup and handed it to a grateful Connie before he poured himself a cup.

"It's the start of a new day and we have deliciously brewed coffee now!," announced Mike, holding up his mug, "So let me be the first to bid you a lovely good morning, Connie!"

Along with the shared coffee, the cheery welcome helped to dissolve the remaining bitter feelings Connie had regarding Mike.

And knowing that this 'hello' would be the only one Connie would probably hear today, the cordial, personal greeting truly touched her.

Let him have the case, she acquiesced, there'll be others.

She happily took a sip of the perfectly brewed cup.

Connie would rather savor this private moment with Mike any day .

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