Copley Plaza Hotel, Boston, MA – Two Years Earlier
Patrice excused herself from the table and quietly slipped out of the banquet room, trying not to be noticed leaving so early. As the door clicked shut behind her she sighed with relief, she had been to more than enough of these insipid awards dinners that lawyers always insisted on tacking onto conferences. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but one had to keep up appearances. She had spent the rest of the day in seminars, listening to speeches, and shaking hands. While this was exactly why she had put up with the red eye out of LAX two days ago, right now all she wanted was a drink, maybe two, and then going back to her room. Maybe a movie, or a rerun of a terribly predictable cop show, maybe all sorts of things. What she didn't want was to listen to anyone else talk right now unless they were handing her a vodka.
As the bartender slid her drink down the glossy mahogany of the bar top, Patrice turned and the lanky figure of Abbie Carmichael caught her eye. She internally rolled her eyes and hoped she wouldn't be noticed. ADA Carmichael's reputation preceded her. She had become well regarded as a hard, "take no prisoners" type of prosecutor. This alone wouldn't have made Patrice reluctant to talk to her, Patrice was a defense attorney by trade, but kept enough personal detachment to be civil with opposing counsel after hours. However, Abbie also was known for her decidedly conservative opinions, and this made the whole package too much for Patrice's liberal Californian mentality to deal with. She turned back and stared intently at her glass.
Patrice wondered quietly to herself how much confidence it must have taken Carmichael to walk out of that dinner. She had been seated at table 3, surrounded by the big names in NYC criminal litigation, including the DA and not just one former senator. She cringed imperceptibly as Abbie sidled up to the bar next to her,
"This seat taken?"
Patrice had no choice now, she smiled frostily and shook her head, "No, it's all yours."
"Thanks, couldn't deal with it either?" The Texan inquired as she nodded to the bartender.
"I'd had enough for one night," Patrice answered simply and took a sip of her vodka, which was starting to soften her mood somewhat.
Abbie ordered a beer and the bartender brought over a Boston Lager, she nodded at it and smiled slightly, "when in Rome…"
As Abbie raised the glass to her lips and took a long pull, setting it back down and gazing at the row of bottles behind the bar for a moment, Patrice regarded her with quiet interest. Despite her preconceived notions about the ADA, Patrice had to admit the smokey-eyed brunette was striking, a fact that hadn't escaped anyone present at the dinner earlier. Abbie had done the honors of introducing one of the awardees of the evening, and had done so in a soft-spoken and eloquent manner, describing what an asset to the profession whoever it had been was, and how quite deserving of the award they happened to be, and so on.
In all honesty, all Patrice had been noticing was the almost hypnotic quality of the Texan's voice, and how the short black cocktail dress she wore perfectly accented her slender form. These were details that did not go unnoticed by the male colleagues at her table either, though Patrice had restrained herself enough not to leer like a schoolboy along with them. Hell, Carmichael could have given a 4 hour seminar entitled, 'The Future of Plumbing,' and the crowd still would have been enthralled. The blond attorney found her mind wandering as Abbie's next comment brought her back to the present,
"So, is it true what they say about the golden state then?"
Patrice was caught off-guard, "What's that?"
"That its full of women, whiskey and gold? Because, if so I think I need a vacation."
It took the blonde a moment to regain her composure, she didn't quite know the correct response to that, especially coming from this particular speaker. However, she didn't wait too long to give her a vodka-laden response,
"Maybe you should just come out sometime and see."
Patrice immediately searched the brunette's eyes to see if she had taken the joke too far.
Apparently she hadn't, as the Texan gave a hearty laugh, "Maybe I will then," she drawled.
Patrice had no idea what to make of this statement, and rather than make a fool of herself, she nodded and turned back to her drink, now nearly empty. The bartender saw this, and fixed it for her.
Over the next hour, Patrice was markedly surprised with how adept Abbie was at making conversation easy, yet still maintaining a complete sense of mystery about herself. By the time Abbie turned to leave Patrice was actually sad to see her go.
The brunette slid off her barstool and took a step toward the exit before quietly turning back to Patrice,
"You coming?"
No less than five responses to this question simultaneously flashed through the blonde's mind before she rejected them all and simply nodded, tossing down a twenty on the bar, and stood to follow.
Abbie led her silently away from the bar and out of the hotel lobby toward the bank of elevators.
"Just where, exactly, are we going?"
Abbie rounded on Patrice, raising an eyebrow, "I thought that was blatantly obvious. Besides, I don't want to be caught playing hooky when that herd of suits hits the bar," she motioned to the banquet hall, from which the telltale rumble of raising voices and scraping chairs was beginning to emanate.
The brunette hit the call button, as they stood in mutual silence.
The ride up to the 25th floor was awkwardly quiet. Abbie stood stoically, two feet from the confused blond who watched her out of the corner of her eye. As the elevator doors slid open, the Texan quietly walked out and down the hall, Patrice followed her now at a loss.
Once inside Abbie's room, she closed the door behind them, clicking the lock and the bolt. She walked past Patrice who was standing somewhat uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot, and went to the mini-bar to pour a drink.
'Do you want anything?" she called over her shoulder.
"Oh, vodka if you have it," replied Patrice, who was now beginning to think another drink was definitely in order. 'What am I doing here? Why did I go with her? What exactly does she have in mind?,' thoughts were running through her mind like crazy. On those rare occasions when she had gone to a hotel room with a girl she had just met, the intent had been clear from the outset, but God, for all she knew Abbie had brought her here to discuss current legal topics. Well, she reflected, probably not, but stranger things had happened.
Moments later, Abbie emerged from the small fridge with a vodka and soda and a small bottle of whiskey, she held the glass out to Patrice and opened the whiskey, downing it without blinking. Patrice didn't know whether to be impressed or slightly intimidated, she took a long drink of her vodka and wondered what to say next.
Fortunately for her, Abbie didn't seem to be in the mood for small talk, she shrugged out of her coat, throwing it across the back of the desk chair, and advanced on the blond, her dark eyes looking her over with obvious intent.
Patrice took another drink and held out the glass to Abbie,
"Better set this down, I'd hate to have to get these clothes cleaned."
Abbie nodded and smiled quietly, took the glass and drank what was left of the Vodka in one pull before setting the empty cup down on the desk behind her. She rounded on the blonde, who had leaned against the wall in an attempt to steady her slightly shaking legs, she moved in and raised a hand to gently tuck a lock of blond hair behind Patrice's ear and looked her in the eye,
"I assume we're on the same page here?" She inquired simply, her voice low and silky. "Because if we're not, you had better leave now."
Patrice heard her loud and clear, and let out a somewhat shuddering breath. She nodded and managed a simple answer,
"I'm not going anywhere."
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Patrice rolled over, the room was still mostly dark as she glanced at the hotel clock on the nightstand, it read 6:00 am. She lay still for a moment piecing the events of the previous night together in her head. Then she stirred, getting up quietly and casting about the darkened room for her clothes which were strewn about the floor. Standing back up, she gazed over at the beautiful woman still sleeping quietly, her dark hair cascading over the white hotel pillow. She looked so peaceful, her beautiful features relaxed in sleep.
Patrice couldn't believe this was the same hard ass prosecutor who had last night been shaking hands and making jokes with the boys' club of the New York legal community, and very much holding her own. If they only knew what Patrice did now, she doubted if Abbie's career would ever be the same. For that matter, neither might Patrice's. She knew they had both had to work harder than many of their male colleagues to get the same treatment, and guarded their reputations like their lives depended on it. With these thoughts running through her head, she sighed audibly, and watched as Abbie stirred, her arm reaching out to the side of the bed that Patrice had recently vacated.
"What's wrong," Abbie murmured to Patrice sleepily as she located the blond standing at the foot of the bed, silhouetted by the growing morning light seeping in through the cracks around the blinds.
Patrice slowly shook her head and gazed back, smiling slightly, "Nothing. But I should go…. I have a flight to catch back to LA."
"Oh… ok…." Abbie trailed off, a slight sadness creeping into her voice. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, the remnants of last night's activities coalescing in her mind.
Looking at Abbie, for a moment Patrice was tempted to call the airline and put off her return, but she pushed the impulse away. Last night was what it was, and she couldn't afford to fall for anyone right now, besides, she didn't think Abbie was that kind of girl. She slid back onto the bed, reaching for the back of Abbie's neck and pulling her in for a lingering goodbye kiss.
As she pulled back and stood, pulling her clothes back on hurriedly, Abbie cleared her throat,
"Patrice…?"
"Yes?"
"I assume I can be assured of discretion on your part? What I do in my personal life has no bearing on my career, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Of course, and likewise I'm sure."
"Of course."
The brunette watched quietly as Patrice took her purse from the table, and, casting a slight smile over her shoulder, left the room. Abbie sighed and lay back down as the door clicked shut.
