Law of Attraction

by Allison Leotta

  Jack shook his head as he strode down the sidewalk, barely able to comprehend the enormity of his miscalculation. Everything he’d thought was wrong. Anna wasn’t interested in him at all. She was dating the defense attorney.

  He became aware of a pattering of feet behind him. “Jack, wait!” Anna cried. She was racing up to him, barefoot on the wet sidewalk. He didn’t break his stride, but she caught up and trotted next to him. “It’s not like that—he was drunk, he just needed to stay over.”

  “You were out drinking with the defense attorney?” His legs were longer than hers; she had to jog keep up with him.

  “No, he came over, unannounced. He was stumbling drunk and feeling guilty about getting D’marco off the first time. I felt sorry for him. I just let him sleep it off on my couch.”

  “He acted an awful lot like your boyfriend.”

  “Well, we were . . .” She slowed and fell a few inches behind Jack. He stopped and turned to her. They stood facing each other in the quiet gray morning, an odd couple: he in his suit and trench coat, she in bare feet and pajamas.

  “You were what?” he asked.

  “Not while the case was going on . . .”

  “What?” he demanded.

  She swallowed. “Dating.”

  “When?”

  “Between the first case and our investigation.” Jack turned and walked even faster toward his car. She ran to catch up. “I was going to tell you!”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Okay,” she admitted. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “No!”

  “You said you knew him from law school.”

  “I did know him from law school. I just—all this happened after law school,” she finished weakly.

  A thought suddenly struck him. He wondered if she could be that treacherous. He slowed his step and narrowed his eyes, searching her face.

  “Is that why you’re investigating Officer Green instead of D’marco Davis?”

  “No! Jack, no! I would never try to sabotage our case!”

  “You see how bad this looks, Anna. How am I supposed to be able to tell what side you’re on? How can anyone?”

  “You know me, Jack. Jack! Look at me!” She grabbed his arm with a strength he wouldn’t have guessed the slim woman had. He spun to face her. They were inches apart, her hand grasping his arm. She looked up at him—a direct, courageous look—but her lips were quivering. “You know me. I wouldn’t try to hurt our case. Jack, I’m on your side.”

  Her big blue eyes pleaded with his. They were beautiful eyes, he thought. Beautiful and traitorous. When he spoke again, he had reined in his anger, hurt, and humiliation. His voice was cold and emotionless.

  “This is textbook misconduct, Anna. You’ve betrayed this case.”

  “No, I’m committed to it!” Her voice became more hysterical as his became flatter. “It’s been over between me and Nick for a long time! It won’t affect my work on the investigation!”

  “There’ll be no more of your ‘work’ on this investigation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is a conflict of interest.” He turned to his car and unlocked it. “You’re off the case.”

  “Jack, please—” She put her hand on his arm again.

  “Enough!” he thundered.

  Anna flinched and stepped back. Jack stood still for a moment, bracing himself on his car. He looked over at her, shivering and barefoot, tears brimming over her eyes. A fleeting instinct told him to put his arm around her shoulders, to draw her into an embrace, that she would welcome it. A few minutes ago, he had been hoping for just such an opportunity. But he couldn’t trust her anymore. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice.

  “This is not negotiable.”

  Jack wrenched the door open and climbed into the driver’s seat. All the hopes he’d held this morning were destroyed. He didn’t look at Anna again as he started the car and pulled off.

  30

  With dismay, Anna watched from the snowy sidewalk as Jack’s car drove away. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Jack had come here to apologize and—she thought of the flowers—to tell her something more? Instead, he’d found Nick Wagner hanging out in her living room. She groaned. How Jack must have felt! She thought of the look on his face when he slammed the car door. The possibility of forgiveness was nowhere on it.

  And Anna hadn’t just lost Jack—she’d been fired from Laprea’s case. She’d reneged on her promise to Rose and the debt she owed Laprea’s children. The purpose that had driven her days was suddenly gone.

  When her bare feet became so cold that the pain turned to numbness, she turned and trudged back to her apartment.

  As she walked in, Nick came out of her kitchen holding a cup of coffee. He offered the mug to her. She ignored the offer, put her hands on her hips, and looked at Nick furiously. She thought she saw a trace of a smirk on his face, but it quickly became a look of rather unconvincing regret.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Anna’s voice was a decibel below a shout.

  “Anna, I’m sorry—”

  “You’re sorry? You wouldn’t have to be sorry if you hadn’t been such an asshole! You came to my house drunk! I let you stay here so you wouldn’t freeze to death—and this is how you repay me? By flaunting yourself to my boss? Why did you come to the door? Why did you take those flowers? What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “It wasn’t right! He was coming on to you—and he’s your supervisor. That’s sexual harassment!”

  “Not if it’s wanted!”

  “Was it?” His voice quieted. “Wanted?”

  “That’s none of your business. Nick, I can’t believe what you just did!”

  “I’m sorry, but I saw this guy here, trying to win you, and I just reacted. It was an instinct, you know. To fight for my girl.”

  “I am not your girl!”

  “I know that!” he shouted back. Coffee sloshed out of the mug. “I am very aware of that!”

  “You were a dog peeing on a fire hydrant! I am not your territory!”

  “Do you think this is easy for me? Seeing you sitting next to him in court? Getting phone calls from the two of you? Knowing all the time you’re spending with each other, the long nights with your heads together, planning how to beat me? We never even talk anymore. Okay, we can’t date—but we’re not even friends. Look.” Nick lowered his voice and put his hand up in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble. I got up this morning and I passed your room, and there you were, sleeping, and I just wanted to climb in with you. I thought I did a pretty good job of restraining myself.”

  Anna felt some of her fury dissipate. She understood what Nick was saying; she had felt a similar nostalgia just last night.

  Seeing her face relax a bit, Nick continued to plead his case.

  “All I wanted to do this morning was apologize—sober this time—for what D’marco did to you. I just wanted to make it right.”

  “Great job, Nick.” The anger had left her voice, replaced with exhaustion. “You got me kicked off the case.”

  “Christ.”

  Nick set the coffee mug on her kitchen table and stepped cautiously toward her. He approached her with his arm outstretched, slowly, carefully, like a wrangler approaching a wild mustang. He laid his hand gently on her bare arm and looked down at her. An electric warmth radiated down her arm from where his fingers lay. She looked at his face. His hazel eyes held a spark they hadn’t last night.

  “I’m so sorry, Anna.”

  “You don’t seem sorry. You seem glad.”

  “Maybe I’m a little bit of both,” Nick acknowledged softly. “Because this could actually be a good thing. There’s no conflict now. We can be together. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that you want it, too. Come back to me, Anna.”

  He moved his hand slowly up her arm.

  She looked at his face, mome
ntarily confused, thinking that she must be misunderstanding what he was saying. She remembered what he’d started to say last night, before he passed out.

  “No conflict now?” she asked slowly. “Are you still representing D’marco Davis?”

  “Not in the case involving your assault. I decided I can’t do that. But on the homicide—” He grimaced. “Yes.”

  She backed away from him in astonishment. He was asking her to get back together with him—not because he was getting off the case, but because he had gotten her kicked off. She felt her fury growing in a hard, tight knot in her chest.

  “I don’t have a choice,” Nick said. “Please, try to understand, it’s not about you—”

  “You selfish asshole. You come to my house drunk, flaunt yourself to my boss, get me kicked off of Laprea’s case—which, by the way, you’re going full steam ahead on—and then you expect me to fall sobbing into your arms with gratitude? Get out,” she said, pointing to the door. When he didn’t move, she grabbed his coat, opened the door, and threw it out onto the wet concrete steps. “Get out!” She pushed him through the door and slammed it shut.

  She just wished she’d done it nine hours ago.

  She leaned back against the door, breathing as hard as if she’d just run a sprint. Her anger felt like a hot itch over all of her skin. She looked at the side table. The box of empanadas and the bouquet of irises sat there next to each other. But she was alone.

  • • •

  Three hours later, Anna sat uncomfortably in a chair in front of the U.S. Attorney’s desk. Her anger was gone, replaced by a nervous tightness in the pit of her stomach. The U.S. Attorney was looking at her like she was an interesting but worrisome specimen he’d found growing in a petri dish. Carla Martinez sat protectively next to her, and a gray-haired man whom Anna recognized as the Chief Muckety-Muck of Something or Other sat on the brown leather couch to their right. Anna’s legs were crossed and her ankle in the air was jittering nervously. She noticed the jittering, stopped it, and shifted, nervously awaiting their verdict.

  After she’d thrown Nick out, Anna had decided that she had to tell Carla everything immediately, before Carla heard it through the grapevine. So Anna had showered, put on her most serious dark suit, caught the Metro, and marched herself into Carla’s office. Anna confessed the whole story—or most of it, at least. She didn’t mention Jack’s flowers or the possibility that he had come over for anything other than professional reasons. Carla listened quietly and asked a few questions, but she didn’t jump up and down or scream. Carla seemed to take the whole thing as a setback, but not, as Anna had imagined, the most horrendous thing that had ever happened. Anna realized that the chief of the Domestic Violence and Sex Crimes Section had seen plenty of scandals in her time.

  “I appreciate you coming here and telling me. That took guts,” Carla said when Anna was done. “Let me ask you this: Is your relationship with Wagner over?”

  “Yes. It has been since this case started.”

  “Did your past with him affect your work on the Davis case at all?”

  “No.”

  “Between you and Jack, I assume Jack made all the charging decisions, plea offer decisions, and the like?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” Carla sighed and paused for a moment, reflecting. “I think we have a chance to muddle through this. But it’s not going to be pretty.” Carla picked up the phone. “The front office has to be informed.”

  A few minutes later, Anna found herself sitting here, in a guest chair in the U.S. Attorney’s office, as Carla summarized her story.

  “I see.” McFadden pressed his fingertips together when Carla finished. He studied Anna for a moment, then picked up his phone and dialed Jack’s number. Jack didn’t answer. McFadden replaced the receiver, then turned to the muckety-muck on the couch. “Donald, what do you think?”

  Donald didn’t look at Anna. “Well, Ms. Curtis is still in her probationary period.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Her employment can be terminated at any time, for any reason, without notice.”

  “Hm.”

  Anna sat up in her chair. Donald, whoever he was, was recommending that she be fired. She opened her mouth to respond, but Carla spoke first.

  “No way,” Carla said firmly. “That is not an option.”

  “Carla, you have to admit, this is a serious ethical issue,” Donald said gravely.

  “No, I don’t believe that’s true. Anna told me that her relationship with the defense attorney was over before this case began and did not affect her judgment or the team’s decisions in the Davis case. I believe her.”

  McFadden sighed. “We all do. But we still have to report this situation to the Ethics and Professionalism Office. In turn, they might notify D.C.’s Office of Bar Counsel.”

  Anna’s mouth opened. Just being referred to these committees was scandalous. EPO enforced ethics rules at the Department of Justice. If EPO found that she violated the rules, she would lose her job here. Worse, if they referred her to the D.C. Bar, her license to practice law could be revoked altogether.

  “Why?” Anna asked. “If you believe me?”

  “It’s not about whether we believe you, Anna.” McFadden’s tone was stern but not unsympathetic. “It’s about doing things by the book. We’re the prosecutors. We try to put people in jail every day, to take away people’s liberty. To do that, we have to stand on the moral high ground, and hold ourselves to the highest of standards. If you were seeing Mr. Wagner romantically during the time that you were opposing counsel, it would be an ethical violation. In this type of situation, it’s better if we allow an objective party to look into this and make the final call. I’m sorry, but there will have to be an inquiry.”

  The last word hung in the air, conjuring images of the Star Chamber.

  “Frankly,” Donald ventured, “it might be easier for everyone involved—including Anna—if we just let her go now.”

  “No,” Carla retorted. “If you feel you need to refer her to EPO, so be it. But don’t pretend that you’re firing her for her own good. Being fired is never helpful on a résumé. Look, this young lady is an excellent prosecutor, and we’re short-staffed as it is. With the budget what it is, I haven’t been able to hire a new prosecutor in a year, and I’ve lost two to attrition. And believe me, crime isn’t going down. I simply can’t lose her. You owe me this.”

  Anna watched Carla’s steely speech gratefully.

  McFadden narrowed his eyes for a moment, then sat back in his chair with a smile of surrender.

  “Okay, Carla,” McFadden said. “If it means that much to you, we’ll let Anna stay on. But we can’t have her appearing in court while EPO is investigating her.”

  Anna felt a wave of relief—until she realized that she was qualified for only one position in this office that wasn’t a litigating position.

  “Sure,” Carla answered easily. “Until this is cleared up, I’ll assign Anna to our Papering Room in the courthouse.”

  Anna’s realized her ankle was jittering again. She pulled both feet under her chair. She was grateful for Carla’s efforts and relieved not to be fired. But papering was the worst job in the office. It was awful even on a once-a-month basis, possibly madness-inducing for longer.

  “Full-time?” Anna asked.

  “Until this is cleared up,” Carla said.

  “What about my cases?”

  “Someone will take over your caseload. Thank you, Joe, for your time.”

  Carla stood up and motioned for Anna to do the same. She wanted to leave before McFadden changed his mind.

  Anna followed her boss down the hallway. They walked to Anna’s office, and Anna turned to Carla in front of her door.

  “Carla, thank you for that.”

  “Of course. They won’t fire you, I’ll make sure of that. But they may keep you in Papering so long that you’ll be tempted to leave on your own. Frankly, they probably hope that you’ll do just that. Think of it as
a test of will.” Carla gave her a small, sad smile. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to pack up your personal effects and take them to the Papering Room in the courthouse. They need a hand in Papering today anyhow.”

  Anna nodded and wistfully watched her boss walk away. On top of everything else, she understood how much she’d disappointed Carla.

  Anna’s office was empty; Grace was probably in court. Anna looked around the room. She’d never thought she would feel sad to leave this office: cramped, dingy, and full of mismatched furniture and Grace’s piles of shoes. But she’d always assumed she would leave when she was promoted to a felony section, to a private office with fewer scuff marks on the walls, to a world of bigger cases and more responsibility. Now she was leaving shamefully, to be a glorified typist in a windowless cellar for an interminable time, cut off from her friends and cases, while she awaited an “inquiry” into her sex life. By comparison, this cramped, dingy shared office seemed great.

  Anna glanced at the file cabinets. All of her misdemeanor cases were in there. They would go to a new attorney. It felt like leaving a beloved pet dog at the pound. She hoped the new owner would care for them well.

  Then Anna’s gaze fell to her desk. Three redwells rested on the corner. Besides the boxes in the war room, these were her working files on Laprea’s case. Anna ran her hand across the files. Her fingers paused on the manila folder that she’d marked PATERNITY TEST yesterday. Last night, Jack had told her to cancel it, but she couldn’t do that now. She was off of this case, in no uncertain terms. Jack would do it. Jack would be doing everything from here on out. She hoisted the files and walked them down to Jack’s office. His door was uncharacteristically closed.

  “He’s in a meeting, hon,” Vanetta called. “Can I help you?”

  “Um.” Anna looked at the door, then back at the secretary. She wondered if Jack was really in a meeting or if he just didn’t want to talk to her. It didn’t matter. Anna handed the files reluctantly to Vanetta. “Can you let him know I dropped these off?”

  “Sure.”

  Anna walked despondently back to her own office and started packing up her things.