by Tiffany Snow
Five minutes later, she was out the door and I was left with Bacon Bits’ schedule, his pink pillow, special food and chicken broth, leash and assorted doggie toys.
To my surprise, somehow Bits managed to jump up on the couch with his short little legs, scrambling up the back to try to reach Tigger. With a yowl, Tigger sprang to his feet, his back arching, hissing at Bits who was still barking.
I sprang forward, scooping Bits up in my arms. He struggled and for a second I thought I might drop him, his fur was slippery, but I maintained my hold.
“Enough!” I yelled, desperate for the barking to stop. Bits abruptly shut up, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he looked up at me curiously. I decided separation would be the order of the day, so I put Bits in my bedroom before hauling all his things inside there as well. He curled up on his huge, gaudy pillow, watching me, his big brown eyes forlorn at being deprived of his entertainment. With a sigh, I headed for the shower, closing my bedroom door behind me.
A hot shower and two cups of coffee later, I was feeling better. CJ’s arrival and abrupt departure still bothered me, I worried about the things she had said, but I had to get to work. I took Bits outside to toodle before returning him to my bedroom, filling up his food and water dishes and shutting him inside.
It had snowed again overnight, leaving a fresh dusting of snow over everything. I didn’t mind. This close to Christmas, I wanted as much snow as possible. I hummed a carol as I walked to my car, wondering what I was going to get Blane for Christmas. What do you get the man who has everything? I’d been wracking my brain lately, with no ideas on what to get him. Maybe inspiration would strike. Until then, I was at a complete loss.
I’d had to park further away from the building last night due to the haphazard snow drifts left by the plows in the parking lot making it difficult to sort out parking spaces. I picked my way carefully over to my car, not wanting to wipe out on a patch of snow or ice. It wasn’t until I was a few feet away that I noticed.
The whiteness of the snow covering my hood had been marred with red streaks. Squinting in confusion, I slowed as I got closer, studying the marks. My eyes widened in shock when I realized the streaks were actually writing.
Kirk’s whore
I stood, frozen in place, as I stared. I looked down at the ground by my door and saw something furry lying in a crumpled heap. It wasn’t very big. As I edged closer, I nudged it with the toe of my boot, then jumped back as it fell sideways to reveal a dead possum, its throat cut.
Nausea bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Fear and anger filled me. I didn’t want to think about being scared, so I embraced the anger.
Pulling open my passenger door, I yanked out my scraper, quickly pushing the bloody snow on the hood off onto the ground. I couldn’t bring myself to touch the dead and mutilated possum, so I just sort of scooted it with my foot to the edge of the lot before climbing into my car. With a shaky breath, I started the car and headed for the firm.
I dropped my things off in my cube and headed to Diane’s office. Not even the unpleasantness I was sure to be greeted with could make an impact on the numbness I’d felt since I’d seen my car this morning.
“You have a different assignment today,” Diane said curtly, breaking into my reverie.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Clarice is sick,” she informed me, “and Mr. Kirk has requested you fill in for her until she’s feeling better.” Diane’s mouth puckered in distaste at this, making her look like she was sucking on a lemon.
I wondered if Clarice was really sick or if Blane had told her to take a few days off so he’d be sure I didn’t leave the building.
“Okay,” I said indifferently, though inside I was excited to be working more closely with Blane, even if it was only temporary.
“Make sure you attempt to keep up at least the appearance of professionalism,” Diane sniffed. “This firm has a reputation to uphold and I don’t want any sordid stories getting out of what goes on behind closed doors here.”
My cheeks flamed at this, my blood pressure skyrocketing, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth firmly shut and not slam her door behind me when I turned on my heel and walked away. As if that ship hadn't already sailed, I thought sourly, what with Mr. Gage being in the news for his indictment as an accessory to murder.
Her insinuations rang in my ears as I grabbed my things and headed for the top floor. I took deep breaths, trying to cool off, and shoved Diane to the back of my mind. I had more urgent things to worry about. I debated whether I should tell Blane about the message on my car, then decided I’d wait to see what mood he was in before I said anything.
I tossed my things onto Clarice’s desk, glancing at Blane’s closed door. I could hear voices inside but couldn’t tell what they were saying. I settled in the chair and reached for the stack of files waiting to be organized and typed, recognizing Blane’s handwriting on them as he’d revised them for Clarice.
Picking up the phone, I dialed Clarice’s number from memory. She picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
I could tell immediately that she was really sick and I regretted having to call her. “Hey, Clarice,” I said, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m filling in for you today and I need the password to your computer. How are you feeling?”
“Awful,” she moaned. “Stomach flu. I’m trying to stay away from the kids so they don’t get it. Thank God they’re not out for Christmas break yet.”
“Do you need anything?” I asked.
“No,” she replied, “Jack brought some things by this morning and he's going to check on me at lunch.”
I was glad she had someone to help her, and if I was being honest, I was a little jealous. That’s when you knew someone really loved you – when they held your hair while you threw up. Now that was devotion.
She told me her password, and before we hung up I reassured her that I would take care of things, that she should concentrate on resting and getting better.
I’d logged onto the computer and was pulling up one of the files when I noticed how quiet it had gotten in Blane’s office. I listened with half my attention as I typed, wondering who he was meeting with this morning. A few minutes later, my question was answered when the door opened and Kandi stepped out.
I froze mid-keystroke, my eyebrows flying upward in surprise. With dismay, I took in her appearance. She was dressed in a form-fitting ivory cashmere dress that clung to her curves. A heavy gold bracelet adorned her wrist and she wore four inch gold heels. Her hair had been twisted up onto her head and she looked both businesslike and sexy, a look I couldn’t pull off in a million years. Her gaze met mine and she took in my long black skirt and white sweater with haughty disdain, her mouth curving in a faint mocking smile that only another woman would catch.
As she brushed by my desk, she sneered quietly, “The secretary? Really? How cliché.”
“You seem cranky,” I said snottily. “Better pick up some more batteries on the way home.”
Her eyes narrowed and shot daggers at me. I returned the look, with interest, my hands clenching into fists as she turned away, her heels muffled by the thick carpet as she walked to the elevators. A cloud of expensive perfume drifted in her wake. I made myself start typing again only after I’d heard the elevator doors slide shut, resolutely refusing to look into Blane’s open doorway to see what he was doing. I was not going to ask him what she’d been doing here. Uh uh, no way.
I caught sight of Blane out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the doorway to his office, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched me in silence as I worked, which I pretended to ignore, though every sense was focused on him.
“You’re probably wondering why Kandi was here,” he said.
“Did the slutty princess try to screw you in your office?” Well, that’s what immediately sprang to mind. “It’s not my business,” was what I actually said, still not looking at him. Maybe his “we have to stay away
from each other” thing was also a way for him to let me down easy, killing two birds with one stone. Was he already moving on to someone else? I didn’t want to believe that, though that cold, hard knot was back in the pit of my stomach.
Blane moved to stand behind me. I typed even faster, trying to ignore him. I jumped about a foot when his hands came down on my shoulders.
“What are you typing?” he asked in bewilderment. I looked at the computer monitor to see what he was talking about. To my utter humiliation, the document I’d been working on was now filled with gibberish.
“You can type, can’t you?” he asked dryly.
I spun around in my chair, making him drop his hold on me. “Of course I can,” I snapped. “I just don’t like being watched, that’s all.” I waved my hand vaguely towards him.
He smiled and butterflies did a little dance in my stomach. Dammit.
“That’s right,” he said slowly, “you were typing gibberish that night you were here late - the night I first took you to dinner.”
“Technically, it wasn’t dinner,” I corrected him. “I just had soup. That doesn’t count as dinner.”
His smile widened, temporarily mesmerizing me. He was leaning against the desk now, towering over me, his dark suit jacket falling casually open. To my surprise, he suddenly leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a soft kiss.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he said softly. “Kandi was here to invite me to their annual Christmas party Friday night. That’s all. Her father insists I come. Robert and Vivian are going to be there as well.”
His words might have carried a little more weight if I hadn’t caught another whiff of Kandi’s perfume lingering on his jacket.
“Are you going?” I asked, trying and failing to keep the jealousy from my voice.
“Yes, we are,” he replied.
I looked up hopefully at him. His fingers brushed my jaw.
“If you’ll go with me, that is,” he amended.
I nodded, then said, “But I thought we were supposed to stay away from each other.”
“We can drive separately,” he said. “There won’t be any reporters there; it’s a private party.”
“Okay then.” I smiled with a much lighter heart now than when I’d seen Kandi come out of his office.
“I have to get to court,” he said, stepping away. “Remember, stay at the office today, all right?”
“No problem,” I said.
A few minutes later, he had grabbed his overcoat and briefcase and was gone, leaving me alone in the vast silence of the seventh floor.
After I’d finished the typing Clarice had stacked in her To Do pile, I grabbed another box from the conference room and began reading more on the case. Deciding that the internet was the best place to look for those most passionate about the case, I started searching. Discussion boards and chat rooms led me to people who were seriously worked up over the dead man, saying vile things about Kyle Waters, the US military and America. It was sobering to read.
I thought about what James had said yesterday. Powerful, important people were watching this case? Who, in James’ view, were powerful, important people? The only thought that immediately occurred to me was politicians. Ick. The only job with a lower public perception than a lawyer was a politician. Or maybe a reporter.
Besides the ticking of the grandfather clock Blane had brought up from the fifth floor when he moved, it was eerily quiet. The phone rang several times during the morning and I wrote the messages down for Blane.
I took a break for lunch, eating the sandwich I’d packed and running downstairs to the first floor to grab a Pepsi from the vending machine. The candy in the machine next to the soda looked tempting and I bought a Snickers.
Other than going to talk to Ron Freeman and Stacey Willows, I was at a loss as to how else I could help find out who was behind the shooting, photos and message on my car. Looking through the file, I wrote down the JAG officer’s address who had testified yesterday, Lt. Sheffield. It might be worth talking to him, too.
I felt better knowing I was doing something to take control of the situation and not just sitting back and letting whoever it was terrorize me and Blane even more. But I also wasn’t stupid enough to think I should tell any of this to Blane. As protective as he was being, there was no way he’d let me go do any investigating of my own.
I glanced at my watch. It was getting late and my stomach rumbled hungrily. I stretched to get rid of the crick in my shoulders from hunching over the keyboard all day. I wondered when Blane was going to be back.
As if my thoughts had conjured him, I heard the ding of the elevator and turned to see Blane step off and head my direction. He discarded his coat and briefcase before coming around my desk to lean back against it once again.
“Good evening, dear,” I said with a grin. “How was your day?”
He chuckled, pushing a hand tiredly through his hair. “Better, now that I see you’re safe and sound,” he replied. “No incidents today?”
The bloody words on the pristine snow flashed through my mind, but I smiled and said, “Nope. All quiet.”
Blane blew out a sigh, the tension in his body easing. I felt guilty that he’d been worrying about me again.
“How’s the trial going?” I asked.
Blane shook his head. “Not good. James is getting nasty, bringing in doctors who examined the photos and are trying to say the guy was shot twice, not once. Unfortunately, it’s just my expert’s word against his.”
Blane seemed lost in thought and I remained quiet, watching him. He was very close and I enjoyed the view, now that I could look with impunity. He’d rolled his cuffs back, which I loved, and his tie was loosened. His ankles were crossed as he rested against my desk and his proximity and position gave me an idea. It would do him good to relax a little. I could certainly help with that.
“Shall I buy you dinner?” he asked, shaking himself from his reverie and focusing back on me. “And not just soup?” I could tell he was oblivious as to the direction my thoughts were taking.
“Maybe later,” I said coyly, rolling my chair closer to him. I placed my hands on his thighs and slid them upwards toward his crotch, which was really at the perfect height for what I was planning.
My hands reached the bulge in his pants and I heard Blane take a sharp breath. I chanced a quick look up at him to find him watching me intently, his eyes darkening. Then my attention was drawn back to his crotch as I felt his cock stiffen under my questing fingers.
I found the zipper and tugged, the expensive fabric easily parting. Blane was a boxers kind of guy and I was easily able to free what I wanted. My mouth went dry at the sight of him.
I moaned as I leaned forward and took him in my mouth. I distantly heard Blane’s breath hiss between his teeth, but I was too distracted to pay much attention. I breathed deeply through my nose, the scent and taste of him causing my hormones to spike and sending a warm wetness between my thighs.
I’d gotten much better at this and had found, to my surprise, I enjoyed it a lot. Though it seemed submissive, it wasn’t. I liked the sense of power it gave me, however briefly and illusory, over Blane.
His hands buried in my hair as I slid up and down his length, relaxing my throat to take as much of him as possible. It was always gratifying if I could make him forget himself enough to thrust into my mouth. He was afraid he’d hurt me by doing that and held tightly to his control so he wouldn’t. I noticed with satisfaction that his hips jerked upward when I did a certain thing with my tongue, so I did it again.
Blane ground out a curse and lifted me off him. I whimpered in disappointment before his mouth claimed mine, our tongues sliding against each other in an attempt to become as close as possible.
He quickly rearranged his clothes then lifted me against him, his hands supporting me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He took me into his office, setting me on my feet before closing and locking the door. I grabbed the hem of my sweater, yanking it over
my head and letting it fall to the floor. Then Blane was back, our mouths colliding again. His hands found the zipper of my skirt behind me and I felt the whisper of the fabric as it slid down my legs to puddle on the floor. I toed off my shoes and now stood dressed only in a white lace bra and matching panties. They were the expensive kind that I never would have bought for myself, but which Blane had purchased when he’d paid for replacing my entire wardrobe.
“Virgin white today, Kat?”
The roughness of his voice sent a shiver through me, but I couldn’t answer or take my eyes off his. I wanted him so badly, I didn’t care that we were about to have sex in his office, just like the tramp Kandi and Diane thought I was.
With a swipe of his arm, just like in the movies, he cleared a place on his desk and lifted me onto it. He tugged the scrap of satin and lace down and off my legs and I leaned back to brace myself on the palms of my hands. I saw him shove the fabric into his pocket, but had no time to wonder about it. Blane bent my knees so my feet were planted on the desk as well, only too far apart for any modesty.
