ETERNAL

by Cecy Robson

  The light casting through her window engulfs her in ethereal light. She’s wearing a black turtleneck that hugs her figure and a hound’s tooth black and white skirt. She typically dresses in pastels that soften her further and bring out her eyes and the highlights in her hair. But the black, brings out the sexy, even though that’s probably not her intent.

  She sits, careful not to make direct eye contact. It’s something she does a lot around me. I wonder if she’s scared I might pick up on something she doesn’t want me to see. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to have a look.

  “How’s the Loreno case going?” she asks.

  I finish swallowing a bite of my food. Being who she is, she uncaps a bottle of water and passes it to me without me asking. I take a sip and set it down on her desk. “You heard about that?”

  “I don’t involve myself in a lot of the cases,” she explains. “But every now and then some pique my interest.”

  “You’re checking up on me?”

  “Maybe.”

  I cock a brow, surprised she’d admit as much. “Maybe?”

  She laughs. “I wanted to make sure you were transitioning well into your new role. And if you weren’t, I wanted to see if I could help.”

  “Even if you don’t have Mafia ties?”

  She covers her mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry about that. But the way you phrased your words could have been better.” She clears her throat, her light voice deepening in an attempt to mimic mine and her words drawing out to match my thick southern drawl. She’s nowhere close to anything I sound like, but her attempt is damn cute.

  “I know people,” she says. “Powerful people.”

  “Luke, I am your father,” I add.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

  “It means you sound more like a Southern Darth Vader than anything like me.”’

  “Forgive me. I don’t possess neither the vocal chords nor the chest hair to sound like you.” Her expression pinches as if she went somewhere she can’t come back from. “I didn’t mean,” she begins.

  “Mean what?” I point at my chest with my chopsticks. “You weren’t referring to the soldiers lying along the muscular field, were you?”

  She holds up a hand. “I really didn’t mean to go there,” she stammers.

  “Go where?” I tease. There she goes again, thinking about me naked and maybe how her palm would rest against my “soldiers”. I want to ask her about it and how it felt to have me so close. But I’m trying to be good, even though sometimes, like now, it’s damn near impossible.

  “Luci?” One of the secretaries pokes her head in, her face lighting up when she sees me. “Oh, hi, Mr. Summers. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Hey.” I think she’s apologizing to Luci, but her attention stays on me. I return to my food. I think her name is Tiffany or maybe it’s Cindy.

  “Can I help you, Coral?” Luci asks.

  Hmm, wrong on both counts.

  “Hey, Luci,” she says, evidently forgetting Luci is still present. “I was wondering about the office party.”

  I search through the bag when I remembered I ordered an appetizer we’ve yet to start on.

  “What about it?” Luci asks.

  “I was just hoping you’d give us more details.”

  Luci pauses. “I sent an office wide email explaining the time, who would be there, and what we’re offering. I could send it again.”

  “I have it,” she says. “I wasn’t sure if there would be more to it, like a gift exchange.”

  Shit. I don’t know Cora or whatever her name is, but I know she’s lying.

  I think Luci knows, too. She replies politely like always, showing her patience most of the higher ups would lack. “Since we’re so far away from the holidays, we didn’t want the staff to feel obliged to buy gifts. If you feel they’d like one, you can certainly post it—”

  “That’s not necessary,” she says, cutting her off. “I’ll see you later. Bye, Mr. Summers.”

  “Bye,” I say. I pass the tin of stuffed shrimp. “Would you like one?”

  My focus turns to where she’s staring behind me. Cora is leaning over another cubicle, whispering to another woman. The other woman looks up when she sees me and Luci watching her. Cora stops speaking, her eyes widening before straightening.

  Luci is already to her feet. Cora starts to walk away. “Excuse me, Coral, Tricia, I’d like a word with both of you.” She positions herself between the women, her voice soft but loud enough for me to hear, along with those in the immediate area. “I think this might be a good time to remind you that office gossip is greatly discouraged.”

  “I wasn’t gossiping,” she answers, quickly.

  Man, Cora, Coral or whoever she is can’t lie worth a damn.

  “If so, you have nothing to worry about. Otherwise, I think you should consider how seriously you take your job and how you’d like your coworkers to perceive you.” She turns and heads back to the office.

  “Sorry, Luci,” the other woman calls after her, but not before casting Coral a nasty glare.

  Luci shuts her door as she walks in, her steps slowing. “Are you okay with the door closed?” she asks.

  “Whatever you want.” I grin. “I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

  About me giving her space, I’m trying. But she is beautiful and I am human.

  I place a couple of the shrimp on the lid to the tin, focusing on what I’m doing rather than greeting the blush that no doubt comes. I pass her the food, grinning like a fool when I catch traces of her heated cheeks.

  “A lot of the people who work here are really great,” she tells me.

  “Hmm,” I say, finishing off another bite.

  “Unfortunately, we have had some issues and I like to stop them before they start.” She waits for me to answer.

  I keep chewing. This is some good duck.

  “A few years ago, one of our attorneys became involved with his personal assistant. It was fine at first and turned serious rather quickly. It also didn’t take long for those emotions to fade and for something decent to become ugly.” She shudders. “Very ugly.”

  I take a few gulps of water. “Are you talking about Duncan and wife number two?”

  “You heard about that?”

  “Straight from the horse’s mouth about all the mares he’s had in the stable.”

  She sighs. “Did he happen to mention one of the mares tried to sue us when he ventured into another pasture?”

  I chuckle. “Nope. But I’m not surprised.”

  “What saved us was that she no longer worked here,” she explains. “With the amount Duncan brings in, she didn’t feel she had to work.”

  “She was probably right,” I agree. “Nothing against her.”

  “Right,” she adds slowly. “But since that day we’ve encouraged the employees to be cautious with who they interact and how they treat others.” She fiddles with her chopsticks and adds, “I’m not sure what Coral said, but I was afraid she was leaving Tricia with the wrong impression of you, and possibly misinterpreting your presence in my office.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I slide my water bottle away from the edge of the desk. “And what sort of impression do you think she was misinterpreting?”

  I’ll admit I’m playing with and twisting her words. Same way I’ll admit I like the way she’s fighting that smile.

  Never mind. There it is.

  I turn around, pretending to look behind me, not that I really bother. “Shit. You think she thinks we’re a thing?”

  “It’s possible . . .”

  “Mmm.”

  “I take it you agree?” she asks.

  I finish my food. “No, I just really like this crispy duck.”

  I wink when she laughs.

  If I’m being honest, I hope Coral tells the whole office there’s something between us. The “did you know they slept together” train is slowly c
oming to a stop and I’d rather keep it going. Not to be a douche, but too many men have asked me how I snagged her, not just because they’re nosy bastards, but because they want to have her too. I don’t bother to share the details, just like I don’t hesitate to tell them to go home to their wives.

  “You’re not worried about me, are you?” I smirk when she averts her gaze. “Here I thought you were only concerned about your reputation.”

  For the first time in too long, she meets me square in the face, her pretty gaze softening and reminding me just how much I like this woman and how real she is. “You’re a good person, Landon. I think it’s only fair people know it, too.”

  “How can you tell?” My voice quiets. “You don’t even know me.”

  It’s what I say, even though I think the same thing about her.

  She pokes at food with her chopsticks. “I know enough,” she answers almost silently.

  Yeah, and has seen even more.

  “What about you?” I ask when she quiets. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation being in here with the likes of me?”

  I swear that lovely face is going to split me in two. “I’ll be okay.” Her smile fades. “But with you being single, and with so many young women working here, be careful, okay?”

  I’m not sure if she’s jealous. I’m hoping she is. She’s seen a few of the women approach me to chat. I’m polite, don’t get me wrong, and I’m also as friendly as I can be. The thing is, they don’t stand a chance, no one does; not with how I feel the more I get to know Luci.

  “You don’t have to worry about me being with anyone else,” I answer truthfully.

  What looks like relief seems to relax her shoulders. She knows what I mean. Just to be sure, I add another wink. It’s not really flirting. If it was, I’d pull her in for a kiss. Hey, if the staff wants to talk about us, let’s give them something juicy to talk about.

  We polish off our entire feast a few minutes later. She gathers the containers and puts them in the bag as I chug the last of my water. “Thank you, it was delicious,” she says. “I don’t usually have lunch so it was a real treat.”

  “You don’t?”

  She shakes her head. “My responsibilities usually keep me from eating.”

  “Then where were you all last week?”

  “What?” she asks.

  “Every time I drove back from court, I saw you walking outside. I figured you were headed somewhere to eat.”

  “I run errands during lunch time,” she says.

  I raise my eyebrows. Like Coral, Luci isn’t much of a liar. “All right,” I say, not knowing exactly why she feels the need to lie.

  My tone alerts her that I don’t believe her. Her gaze falls to her desk. “Speaking of errands, I have to head out. Thank you, again.” She tosses the bag in the garbage and reaches for her coat. “My treat next time.”

  As easy as that, the tension I feel dissolves. “And when will next time be?”

  “Tomorrow?” she offers.

  I make a face. “Can’t. I have Federal Court in the afternoon and I have to stop by Dania Loreno’s place in the morning.”

  She pauses in the middle of buttoning her coat. “What are the chances you’ll be able to keep her in the country?”

  I huff. “With everything happening in the world. Not good. But I’m going to try, even if it means a plea for asylum.”

  She lifts her purse slowly. “On what grounds?”

  I stretch out my arms. “She left Ecuador with her kids to escape an abusive ex, counting on those damn coyotes to get her across the border. She and her girls didn’t make it here unscathed and she’s worked herself to the bone to give them everything they wouldn’t have in her country. Her husband never got over her leaving him, if she’s sent back, she’s as good as dead, and so are her daughters. I don’t care what I have to do, but she’s not going back there on my watch.”

  I’m prepared to send my client and her daughters to Canada if I have to. Luci probably knows it. But that’s not something that needs announcing. I like Luci too much to burden her with information the partners may not approve of.

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she says.

  “Hopefully,” I agree.

  I start to follow her to the elevators. “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “I’m walking you out. It’s what real men do, besides flex and buy women lunch, I mean.”

  She doesn’t laugh, like I want her to, putting my good humor immediately to sleep. “Oh, you don’t have to,” she says. “Like I mentioned, this is my time to run errands.”

  I cock my head, not sure why she seems so nervous.

  Hmm. Maybe nervous isn’t the best word. More like troubled.

  I pause at the end of the hall, thinking I’m crowding her. “All right. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Yes, I’ll see you then.” She heads out, her pace fast. She seems to catch herself and slows, taking a moment to glance over her shoulder. “Thank you. It was nice spending time with you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say.

  My smile returns at the sight of hers. But it’s the way she regards me that stays with me long after the elevator doors close behind her. She’s so gentle, in her mannerisms and the way she seems to take on the world.

  I turn toward my office, bent on reviewing my case before the Federal Court. As a die-hard perfectionist by nature, I need to prepare and do right by Dania and her girls.

  It’s going to be a rough and tumble case, and it’s going to keep me late tonight. When I think about how late, I reason a boost of caffeine might help.

  I swing back around and head for the elevators. My phone buzzes as I step inside. Elenora, Dania’s oldest daughter sent me a text.

  Mr. Summer. Will you be able to help my mama?

  I shake my head, unable to grasp the kind of hell this kid is going through.

  I’m going to do my best and take care of things. I promise, I text back.

  I want to tell her not to worry. To just be a kid and let the adults handle the rest. But a kid like Elenora doesn’t have that luxury. She, like many in her situation, can’t just run outside and play. They’re constantly looking over their shoulders, well aware they’re not safe and don’t quite belong.

  The elevator reaches the ground floor as I hit send.

  My mind is on Dania and her family as I step into the large foyer. I pocket my phone, grinning when I see Luci at the coffee stand. I march forward, hoping I can pay for her coffee. But instead of coffee, she hefts a large paper bag in her arms and rushes away.

  She seems tense. But what confuses me is where she’s headed with all that food. We just had lunch.

  I wander toward the counter, looking at Luci as she pushes through the clear glass doors. “Hi, Mr. Landon,” the woman behind the counter says. “Would you like the usual?”

  “Yes, thank you, Belinda.” I stop her before she can really start. “On second thought, no. I’ll be right back.”

  She slides the large paper cup back in place, eyeing me like I’ve lost my damn mind, probably because I just might have. With more determination than reason, I take off after Luci.

  The way my feet stomp across the marble tile is an indication of how fast I’m moving. I force myself to slow, stopping in front of the building as I step through the revolving doors. I glance to the right and down the long street. There’s no sight of Luci.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I mutter to myself.

  My first mistake was stepping out here. My second is turning left in time to see Luci disappear around the corner. I realize I’m being an idiot and possibly a stalker as I hurry after her, making what has to be mistake number three.

  Okay, maybe mistake and stalker are strong words. Something isn’t right. Forget that we both ate a ton during lunch, and forget that she’s carrying enough food to feed a small army, and to make myself appear less like a freak, forget that thi
s doesn’t appear to be a regular errand.

  She tensed, becoming uncomfortable when I asked her where she was headed. And for some bizarre reason, she also tried to lie her way out of it.

  Luci is the go-to for everything in the office, her duties extending past any office manager tasks I’ve ever seen. But those tasks are handled within the confines of the building. If she’s in some kind of trouble, I want to help her. And if she’s doing something she shouldn’t be doing for the firm, I want to stop her.

  Shit. What is it with my need to protect her and make sure she’s safe?

  I do a double-take when I catch sight of the lavender wool coat she’s wearing.

  She crosses the street and heads toward the park. “Luci,” I call out.

  I curse when I don’t quite make the light and Charlotte traffic drives full speed ahead. She didn’t hear me, at least I don’t think she did. Instead of yelling again, I watch her disappear into the park.

  The minute the crosswalk sign lights up, I jog across. February in Charlotte is milder than up north, but it’s still a brisk forty degrees. If I wasn’t moving as fast as I am, I’d feel winter’s bite a hell of a lot more.

  I follow the walkway Luci took, catching up to a few women pushing strollers. They turn toward the playground where about twenty kids are running around near the swings. Another woman trails them, holding a toddler’s hand who’s gripping a lollipop for all he’s worth. She smiles when I nod in her direction. The kid smiles back, his sticky and red-smeared face making me laugh.

  Kids were something I always figured I’d have. My ex didn’t want them, and since I wanted her, I started to accept they weren’t in my future. But it’s like every time I’m around my nephew Cal, I’m reminded of why I wanted them to begin with.

  Under the best circumstances, children aren’t jaded to how cruel life can be. They have hope that the world is okay, and that it remains a place they can laugh and play in. It’s something we all need to keep believing, even when we’re old and gray.

  I make a mental note to call Trin later, hoping maybe to face-time with Cal. He may not be my son, but for now, he’s the closest thing I have, and carries enough hope for the both of us.