TW//: Sensitive Topic briefly covered - precaution.
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Forty-eight hours.
If you try hard enough, you can write a short story in that length of time. When I was ill as a child, it was in that length of time that I stayed home to recover. Nearly 3,000 minutes of time. You could move mountains in that time.
But in the last 48 hours, all I'd accomplished was making myself tired.
I hadn't slept in the last 48 hours and it was all down to a case. A case I never thought would resurface again. A case that was all my fault.
The second case I had worked on alone, when I was 22 years old had been the toughest I'd experienced then, and one of the most difficult to think about even now.
It involved a family, a family from the other side of New York, one no one had ever heard of, your average Joes. But this case was more than at first met the eye.
It all started when a 14-year-old girl had rocked up at my new office in floods of tears. She was the prettiest little girl I'd ever seen: blonde and blue-eyed, she had a face like a fairy and was so petite she looked as if she could break. Traumatised at a poor young girl who, when it came down to it, wasn't much younger than me, born in the same decade, I had ushered her in to sit with me. There, she proceeded to explain how her father, divorced from her mother, had assaulted her on multiple occasions when she had gone to stay at his house. Her mother had found out after finding her bleeding.
I was horrified. Of course I was, who wouldn't be? And the case had escalated from there. I'd approached Webster, but he'd let me take the case alone, citing other commitments. The case progressed and I was told the most disturbing evidence I had ever heard, about what this man had allegedly done. I'd even watched as this young girl, so sweet and innocent, had broken down in court, describing her harrowing ordeal.
The father had gone down for the crime. I'd made sure of that when I ripped him to pieces in court, making him look unstable, predatory and cruel. Because he was. 10 years in one of the toughest maximum security prisons in America. He'd become a notorious criminal whilst on trial and the media, Spencer's paper specifically, had reported on how the other criminals had heard about what this man had done to his daughter, and had beat him to within an inch of his life.
Boone and Webster, so pleased with my performance on the case, had given me a pay rise and promoted me to a higher rank in the organization immediately.
I was happy. Everyone was. I got more recognition and a disgusting man got what he deserved.
Or so I thought.
Until Monday morning when the same pretty little girl I once knew, now aged 19, had knocked on my door and proceeded to tell me that the whole thing had been one massive and elaborate lie.
I had spat my morning coffee all over my keyboard.
It was a lie, she had told me, a lie to protect her boyfriend, a high school senior with a bright future in football, from going down for statutory r*pe. They were having a relationship – sometimes he was rough with her, she said – hence the physical evidence that pointed towards her father - but it didn't stop her from loving him. It was only now, now they had continued their relationship, now she was pregnant with his child, now that he'd left her without so much as a glance back, that she had realised the true impact of what she had done.
I'd then proceeded to calmly walk to the bathroom and then, without much control, had ridded myself of my breakfast into the toilet bowl.
I was in shock. I'd sent a man down nearly five years ago for a crime he hadn't committed. An innocent man was sitting in prison for something that he had never done.
And now, I had to face the facts of a perjury case.
48 hours ago, I couldn't have told you what was going to happen.
But I sure as hell wasn't expecting this.
"I want every single junior associate in my office. Now!"
They all jumped at the tone of my voice, far from used to me raising my volume above conversational level. But I was pissed. I shouldn't have been taking it out on the Hollister model in my office who'd f*cked over her father to the highest degree, but that was for later.
Leaving my door open, the eager young lawyers swarmed in after me, ten of them in total, fitting themselves in behind my bookcases and sitting on one of my corner chairs. The young girl who was close to ruining my professional career, looked shocked, sinking down into her chair and curling a hand around her baby bump.
"Did I say any of you could sit down?" I barked, "And someone shut the damn door!"
Aaron, who had filed in last, looked at me with wide eyes and closed my glass door, wisely pulling down the blinds.
"Who can tell me about the NY vs. Johnson case?"
"Um...um...I...was it...I...Two years ago?" an associate squeaked.
I sighed loudly, "For God's sake don't talk if you don't know what the hell you're on about, Harrison."
The junior associates began to whisper amongst themselves, looking more than panicked.
"It was five years ago." Aaron's voice rose above the throng, "An assault case. Father and daughter."
"Correct." I nodded, "Gentleman, I suggest you take a leaf out of Mr. Carter's book here. It might do you some favors."
A small smile graced Aaron's face as he looked more than pleased with himself.
"Whatever I say does not leave this room. It does not get discussed outside of the twelve of you and it certainly does not form part of family conversation or anecdotes at the bar. Are we clear, gentleman?"
The junior associates all mumbled their acceptance.
"In the corner there, sits Cassandra Johnson of that very same case, which I'm sure now comes to your memory. Except, gentleman, your memory fails you."
I paused, looking around at the sea of expectant faces, clutching their notepads tight to their chests.
"What do you mean, Miss Rodriguez?" a voice from the back called out.
"What I mean, Mr. Smith, is that we are now dealing with perjury. The accusation was false."
The associates immediately started babbling amongst one another, except for an older associate, Eagleton, who had a look of indignation on his face as he crossed over towards my client.
"You silly little bitch!" he shouted, "Do you know how much work we put into your case? Do you know what this is going to do to our firm? Do you? Well, do you?!"
"N-n-no..." she stuttered, eyes wide, "I—I..."
"That's enough!" I shouted, pulling Eagleton away, "Mr. Eagleton if you want to keep your reputation at Boone and Webster, I suggest you pipe down before I have to send you out."
He looked down, "I'm sorry Adriana. But this is seriously f*cked up!"
I snorted a laugh, "Don't I know it, Tim." Turning I looked over towards Cassandra, "Gentleman. Our client was very young when this case first started. I do not want any form of judgement upon her. Yes, I know you must feel a certain way, God knows I feel the same way too – but now, our main focus is getting ourselves out of this mess. Starting with you. I want the Attorney General on my phone in the next hour, I don't care who gets him for me, just do it. I want the DA's office too – Aaron, you take the lead on that and wire me in after you've explained the basics. Harrison, I want you to call the judge, by the name of Smythe. S-M-Y-T-H-E – he gave the ruling. Do not say you have anything for certain, but let him have a rough idea of what's going on. The rest of you, help where you can. I want half-hourly reports back to my office on anything that has transpired. Clear?"
"Yes Miss Rodriguez."
"Yes Adriana."
"Well, please gentleman, don't just stand there."
They all rushed out of the room, phones already buzzing and chatter already beginning.
"Phew!" Cassandra laughed from the corner, "That was pretty intense, huh? You saw the way one of them went for me, right? Jeez. I mean I was—"
"Let's make one thing very clear Miss Johnson." I hissed, cutting over her, "You don't get to talk. You don't get to talk unless the next words out of your mouth are some kind of solution to get us out of the sh*t you've landed us right in. I said there would be no judgement upon you. I was telling the truth to a certain extent. I will not judge you. But, by God, if you've lost me my job, I don't know what I'll do. So, sit your pretty little behind on that chair, hydrate yourself, look after your baby, but keep your mouth shut. Okay?"
With wide eyes, Cassandra Johnson nodded at me, almost as if I was a superhuman.
My desk phone started to buzz. Line One. Aaron.
I picked it up, "Aaron, give me some good news please."
He winced, "Mr. Webster wants to see you in his office in 10 minutes. Sorry Adriana."
I couldn't prevent the expletive that emanated from my mouth as I nearly dropped the phone.
Webster wanted to see me? That couldn't be good. As much as I looked up to the man, he was a hardass. And I was going to get a rollicking.
"Also." He bit out, "The D.A's office is on my other line. Would you like me to page you through?"
I sighed, smiling despite myself, "I can always rely on you for a prompt response to my requests. Yes. Please, Aaron."
"Sure thing Adriana," he replied, "Oh, Adriana?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry." He insisted, "We'll get ourselves out of this. D.A. on the next line."
The line went dead and then proceeded to call again.
I needed the conversation with the D.A's office. It was important to get someone who worked there on my side. I needed a staunch ally if this was going to go to re-trial, someone who would have my back, see my side of the story and help me climb out of this hole I'd dug.
"Hello?"
I froze to the spot, nearly dropping the phone on my desk.
How could I not have realised who I'd be speaking to? Was I that naïve, that stupid? How was I meant to get him of all people, on side? Of course it would be him. Who else was it going to be?
"Hello Mark."
I heard the smile in my ex-boyfriend's voice, the cheeky, mischievous smile that he'd shot me the first time we'd ever met, the smile that had me falling for him hook, line and sinker.
"Adriana. Long time no speak. I trust you're keeping well."
"Oh, I'm fine, Mark. Fine. All bar the fact that you broke up with me without prior warning after cheating on me and then proceeded to dump all of my clothes in the office. Other than that? I'm fine!" I hissed down the phone.
"Ana, Ana, Ana. What am I going to do with you, eh?" his voice gained an extra bit of humor, "I was very testosterone fueled back in those days. I'm a changed man!"
"Mark, you dumped me four months ago, you dumped two trash sacks outside my office a month ago. I'm not falling for your bullsh*t anymore, so if you want someone to do that, it ain't gonna be me."
"I always loved the fire in your belly, Adriana." I could sense his smirk, "Very sexy."
"I'm not here to play games, Mark. I was done with you a long time ago. I'm here to ask a favor."
"Ah, of course!" he chuckled, and I could imagine him swinging back on his chair, "You've gotten yourself into quite a little situation haven't you? Or so your little toyboy lackey from the wrong side of town tells me."
"Mark." I ground out, "For God's sake, get to the point."
"Bunny, that's no way to treat the love of your life, is it?"
I laughed incredulously, "You are not the love of my life, Mark. You stopped all that a long time ago. Frankly, I'm far too busy for this right now. And don't call me that! Are you going to help me or not?"
"What's the magic word?" he teased.
"Mark!" I shouted, gripping the phone tighter.
"Alright, alright, sheesh." He tutted, "Stop shouting, it's turning me on. I'll help you Ana. For old times' sake. But we must go for a drink sometime."
"There's more chance of you flying, you cheating pig." I retorted.
"Oh no, Adriana, I don't think you understand." He lowered his voice, "You will go for a drink with me. That is, if you want me to get you out of your sh*t."
"Are you blackmailing me?" I hissed.
"Careful, Miss Rodriguez," he cautioned, "I'll slap you with a slander suit before you can blink. Now. How's about that drink, hm?"
I wavered, twisting the cable of the cord. There was no way I could go out with Mark. I hated the guy. He was a weasel. Then there was the fact that Spencer would probably have a coronary if I told him I was going. He hated Mark possibly even more than I did. And now that I understood why? How could I do that to him?
I looked over at Cassandra. She was looking out of the window, her eyes filled with tears that she tried hard to dash away. She had irrevocably ruined her father's life. 5 years in prison wasn't something you got over quickly, particularly if you hadn't committed the crime. We needed to get ourselves out of this.
Taking a deep breath, I responded, "Okay, Mark. One drink. As long as you sort this out for me."
I just wouldn't tell Spencer, that was all.
"There's a good girl!" I heard him clap his hands together in glee, "And you know, I'll sort it. I'm the best D.A. in the country and I'll do anything for you, Bunny."
I had to force myself not to gag. What the hell had I seen in this guy?
"Alright Mark. See you later."
"Goodbye Bunny. Oh, quick question."
"Yes?"
"What color underwear have you got on right now?"
I slammed down the phone and screamed into my office.
*
Fixing my hair in the bathroom mirror and straightening out my light blue skirt, I took one final deep breath and strode down the corridor until I reached the large corner office, the door emblazoned with the words:
Simon Webster – Managing Partner
It was safe to say, I was absolutely sh*tting myself. Webster was a notorious hardass, and the idea of getting destroyed by him for this mistake, had truly sunk in.
Steeling my nerves, I knocked twice on the door.
"Enter!"
As soon as I swung open the door, I was immediately transported back to the day I had applied for internship.
I hadn't even graduated college yet when the opportunity to intern for the managing partners arose. I'd seen the flyer in the Great Hall at Law School and had grabbed it straight away. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. I'd prepared for ages, making sure I got everything right. Everyone from law school was applying. It was serious. So Spencer and Licia had fired questions at me over pizza and wine until I thought I was unable to break.
How wrong I had been.
Simon Webster had torn me apart at interview, making me question every thought I'd ever had about the law, and about myself. The overriding smell in the office was one of fear. That's the only way I could describe it. It had been rolling off me in waves. I had all but had a complete breakdown at the tall, formidable man sitting behind that huge oak desk. It was only by the end of the interview that I had realised I'd been holding my breath for practically the entire time.
I'd been surprised to get the job. I was even more surprised that Webster was a nice guy once you got to know him. But something that had never changed was the feeling of dread I had every time I stepped into that office. Whenever I stepped into that office, it was like I was a naïve little twenty-year-old all over again.
Simon's eyes met mine as soon as I swung the door shut, but he didn't say a word. He remained speechless, even as I stood before his desk, still too scared to sit down.
"You wanted to see me, Sir?" I squeaked, vocal chords struggling to function.
Simon didn't look up from his desk, writing something illegible on his notepad.
"What I wanted to know," he said, his voice soft yet strong and stealthy, "Is what the hell you were thinking."
I choked, trying to gather myself. I could do with some Dutch Courage right now.
"M-M-Mr Webster...Sir...I....I can assure you, I didn't know anything about this until Miss Johnson knocked on my door this morning. I would never do anything to bring the name of this firm into disrepute...I...I...I have a deep respect for the managing partners and the firm, Sir. And I---"
"Firm, firm, firm!" he suddenly shouted, slamming his pen down on the desk, "You think I give a damn, Adriana? You honestly think that right now, at this very moment, that I give a flying f*ck?"
I hesitated, "Sir—I..."
"No!" he retorted, "I get to speak now. And you get to listen. Sit. Down."
I jumped, practically throwing myself into the seat opposite his desk, heart pounding out of my chest, "Yes, Sir."
"What I give a damn about Adriana, is the fact that I trusted you," he shook his head, "At 22 years old I trusted you, and you know why?"
"No, Sir."
"Because you were the only person I'd ever interviewed that didn't crack under the pressure, under my pressure. I thought I could trust you. I thought wrong." He pursed his lips, running a finger through his grey, wiry moustache.
"You can trust me, Sir, I swear it." I nodded earnestly, "This was a mistake. A small fish in a huge pond. My reputation speaks for me, Sir. This was just a one-off occurrence. And I can promise you, your trust is one of the most important things to me."
I could hear his teeth grinding together in his mouth.
"Trust eh?" he picked up his pen, tapping it against his lip, "Shall I tell you who I trust, Adriana? Eric. Eric Boone is one of the only people I have ever trusted. And he has never let me down. He convinced me to hire you. I was impressed, sure. But it was him. His decision. She's a sure-fire lawyer, he told me, she'll never disappoint, he said. And you know what, Adriana? You never have. Not until this very moment."
"Sir, p-please don't be angry with me, I—"
"Angry?" he cut me off, "Oh no, Adriana, I am far beyond angry, far beyond livid. I'm just disappointed."
Emotion rose to form a ball in my throat. Disappointment was way worse than anger, "Sir—"
"I thought you had it under control, I honestly did." He replied, calm again, "Until I walked through my own firm and bumped into Mr. Harrison, one of your junior associates, in floods of tears."
Damn it, Harrison!
"Sir, you know how difficult Harrison can be at times..." I attempted to justify myself, "I—I'd just given him a stern talking to, that's all. Ask any of the associates in that room, they'll vouch for me. Mr. Carter will—"
He shook his head, "We at Boone and Webster have always been a team. I made that clear to you from the start. If one of us fails, all of us fail. And when we succeed, we succeed together." He paused, "But the behavior I've seen from you today, Adriana? It's divisive. And it sure as hell isn't what Eric and I are looking for in a managing partner."
His eyes shot up to meet mine.
Oh, God.
I stifled a sob. Was this the end of my career? All of my plans for managing partner had been going well. Up until this moment. Up until Simon Webster had basically just told me I would never make partner of this firm.
"We're seriously going to have to consider your future here."
I was speechless.
He waved a long-fingered hand, looking back down to his papers, "Get out of my sight."
Cringing, and fighting back my tears, I managed to pull myself to my feet, stumbling out of his office in a way I could only liken to a newborn baby horse.
And then I couldn't fight the tears streaming freely down my cheeks.
It was over.
*
The phone ringing snapped me out of thoughts of jumping from my top floor office.
I was being melodramatic. That I knew. But three hours ago, Simon Webster had done all but fire me, and my chances of making managing partner had been flushed down the toilet, courtesy of one Cassandra Johnson.
Eric Boone had entered my office mere moments after I had returned and his facial expression told me it was worse than I could have ever imagined. Eric was like a second father to me, he always had been. He was my mentor ever since I joined the firm. And in all the years I'd known him, he'd never approached me with anything but a huge toothy grin on his face.
So his grim, straight expression spoke louder than his words ever could.
The managing partners, he said, himself and Simon, had made the decision to take me off the case and all cases in the next few weeks. I was to be placed on probationary measures until I could 'prove I still had what it takes'.
I was in my own very special circle of hell.
My whole life had been law, my whole adult life had been Boone and Webster. And now, I was being babysat like some kind of reckless toddler?
Although never given the title, I was effectively head of the criminal division. But now, my junior associates were running the show. It's not like I didn't love them, and it wasn't like I didn't see the huge amounts of potential they had – but I had worked so hard to climb my way up the legal tower in such a short amount of time and now? Now I'd lost my footing and was plummeting free fall.
It was safe to say I was heartbroken.
So, when the phone rang, I did the only thing my tired body would allow me to do.
I picked it up.
"Boone and Webster. Adriana Rodriguez speaking. How can I help?"
"Adri?"
The sound of Spencer's voice was enough to bring me to tears. After a long 48 hours, all I needed was a warm bed, a cup of tea and my boyfriend's arms wrapped around me.
"Hi Spence." I managed to squeak out.
He was walking, probably through the newsroom, if the background noise was anything to go by.
"Adri?" he repeated, again, "What's wrong?"
I sighed, laughing humourlessly, "Can I say everything?"
"Everything?" his voice raised an octave, "What do you mean, everything?"
"I mean pretty much every single aspect of my life right now, Spencer. Is that possible?"
"Adriana. You're scaring me." His voice got louder, "I haven't seen you in almost two days. What the hell is going on?"
"I—I just lost my job." I whispered
"You what?" Spencer all but screamed, "What do you mean? Boone and Webster? Adriana, what's happening?"
"I—I—the—my Cassandra Johnson case you covered a few years back."
He paused, "The sexual assault case? What about it? The scumbag father's been rotting in prison for years now. He got exactly what he deserved."
"Except he didn't Spence," I stifled a sob, "She made the whole thing up. And now the blame's on me."
Spencer did shout down the phone this time, "WHAT?! You've got to be kidding me, Adriana."
"Does this sound like the voice of someone who's kidding, Spence?"
"F*ck!" he cursed, "So what? They got rid of you for it?"
"Not quite." I replied, through my tears, "Webster yelled at me. He really yelled at me Spencer. You should've seen his face. He was disgusted. Disgusted by me! And then he said I'd never make partner."
"F*ck!" he cursed again, "Sh*t! But it wasn't your fault! The girl lied about the whole thing! How the hell were you meant to know?"
"I—I tried explaining, but he wouldn't even let me talk. It was like I was a child. Now, Boone has taken me off all cases for the foreseeable future. I can't be a lawyer anymore, Spence..."
"Oh God..." he sighed, "It's okay, baby, everything's going to be alright."
"Except it isn't is it Spence?" I got out, tears streaming down my face, "Everything is all screwed up and they hate me! If I don't have any cases I can't prove myself, and if I can't prove myself it won't be too long before Webster forces me out. Then what will I do? Boone and Webster was everything, Spence. Without it, I—I---" I couldn't finish my sentence, and burst into full blown sobs which racked my body as I put my head on the desk in despair.
"Sh*t!" he swore, "You stay right there, baby. I'm coming."
"Com—ing?" I cried, "What—do you—mean—com—ing?"
"I mean I'm on my way. I'm coming to get you." He insisted
"Spence, you can't!" I responded, sniffling, "Spence you---"
"No dammit! Put my meetings on hold! I have an emergency!" Spencer shouted at someone in the distance, "Are you okay? Adri? Stay with me, here."
"I'm fine. Spence, you really shouldn't---"
"For f*ck sake!" he shouted, away from his phone again, "If I have to tell one more person again, someone is on the chopping block. I'm a reasonable man. Cancel my meetings NOW."
"Spence, don't leave. You've got to deal with— "
"I'm on my way, baby." He replied, "Hold tight for me."
He cut the call abruptly, and I began to cry even more.
This man. This man who had an international conglomerate to run out of all the continents on the globe had decided to drop it all to come and focus on me. How could I let him do that? But how could I stop him? Spencer had the biggest heart of anyone I'd ever known and when it came down to his friends and family – he'd stop at nothing until everything was resolved. He'd dropped what was clearly a serious problem to come and attend to my issues.
But then, that was the way Spence had always been. Whenever I needed him, he was there at the drop of a hat. Picking me up after Mark had dumped me was far from the only time Spencer had come to my rescue. In college, in work, in life he was always there. To help me, to support me, to be with me, no matter what. And I loved him for it.
I loved him for it.
I loved him.
I love him.
Oh, God.
When the hell did I fall in love with my best friend?
My heart was threatening to pump out of my chest and it wasn't just for the adrenaline of almost being thrown out of Boone and Webster on my ass. No. It was the thought of a certain golden haired media executive that had a ball forming in my throat and a lead weight settling in my stomach.
How could I fall in love with Spencer? No matter what this was, no matter what he'd dreamed for however long, Spencer didn't do relationships. In fact, by all accounts I was his first girlfriend. He'd never been in anything for the long haul, nothing except his business.
And as for me? I'd just got out of a relationship. And as nice as it was, being with Spencer, I couldn't afford to have my heart broken again. Particularly not by the person I trusted more than anything in the world. I loved him. I always had. But realizing it? Realizing I was in love with him? More than I could bear.
We couldn't go back to being friends. Not after all that had passed between us. And when Spencer got bored of a girl... what if he got bored with me?
Sure I'd flirted with the idea of marriage. I'd flirted with the idea of kids. But why had my brain only just realised that I was crazy in love with Spencer Haywood?
My eye caught the picture on my desk and I couldn't help but sigh. Of course, there was a family photo – myself, Antonio, Mama and Papa, and a photo of Alicia and I, in our bikinis on the beach the year I took my friends to Cancun. But then there was one of Spencer and I.
Licia had gone to visit her parents in Chicago one time last year, so it was Spencer and I left in the city. We'd decided to make a weekend of it – The Empire State, Central Park, Statue of Liberty, even pizza from a street vendor that I'd made a more than cautious Spencer try. This photo, though, was at the Rockefeller ice rink. A professional photographer had taken a photo of us without us even realizing it. She came up to us to let us know that she thought we were the cutest couple in all of New York.
Of course, I'd vehemently denied it. So had Spencer. Although looking back, he was more reticent that I was. The picture was of us, holding each other – Spencer's arms around my waist, mine at his shoulders as he guided me around the rink. It was only now that I could see the expression in his eyes. Wonder.
And if I could go back to that very moment, wrapped in coat, scarf and gloves, Spencer's cheeks the brightest of red...I would've kissed him.
I cringed.
God, what was happening to me?
Just as I began contemplating these feelings, these emotions swirling around and around in my head, a loud commotion came from the office floor, which could only mean one thing.
My door swung open.
"Adri."
Spencer was disheveled but oh so beautiful. Pressed navy suit, striped blue shirt, orange tie and blue polka-dot handkerchief, his hair flopped artfully over his forehead in a way that suggested he'd been running his hands through it in anxiety. I knew him too well.
"Spence." I found myself involuntarily rising from my desk, lip quivering and throwing myself into his arms.
"Oh, sweetheart," he groaned, stroking my hair, "It's okay, I'm here now. I'm here."
"Thank you." I sobbed
"Don't do this. Please don't cry." He whispered into my hair.
I breathed in his scent, the smell of familiarity and home as I curled myself further into him, "I'm sorry."
"No, not that Angel." He kissed the top of my head, "You're allowed to be upset. But it breaks me apart seeing it."
Looking up at him through watery eyes, I sniffled, "I'm glad you're here. But you didn't have to come."
He scoffed, "Didn't have to? Adriana, I wanted to. You were upset and you need someone to be here for you. And you know I'm always here for you."
His thumb stroked my bottom lip and he leant in to kiss me softly, my tears wetting his cheeks.
"You're stunning even when you cry, my beautiful girl." He tucked a strand of hair from behind my ear, "Let's get you home."
"I—I can't..." I wavered, "What if they change their mind? What—what if—"
Spencer sighed, "Adriana, you're exhausted. Your eyes are bloodshot and there's a vein pulsing in your temple. You're stressed. And I won't have you stressed. You need a hot drink and some sleep."
Despite myself, I giggled through my tears, "Typical Brit. Problems solved with tea, eh?"
He chuckled, "A temporary solution." He kissed my forehead, "Home time."
It was easy to follow him out of my office and into his awaiting car, leaving all my problems behind me for a nice cup of tea.
*
Spencer had carried me bridal style in and out of the car, but upon my insistence had planted me in one of the stools at his breakfast bar.
He'd then proceeded to 'pop the kettle on' and make us both a steaming hot cup of tea.
Like the pansy I was, I'd spilled all of my emotional problems as if I was on Oprah.
"Being a lawyer is all I've ever wanted to be Spence." I cried out
"I know it is, baby," he nodded slowly, "But you're still a lawyer. This is just a silly misunderstanding that's all. They'll realise what a mistake they've made soon enough."
"What if they don't? And it's not just this stupid g*ddamn case, it's the way I shouted at Harrison."
"Who?"
"Harrison," I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my tea, "A kid. Graduated last year. One of our new interns. He just takes things so seriously! All I did was scold him for getting the year of the case wrong and he bursts into tears in front of the managing partner? Tell me I'm not being crazy Spence. Tell me."
"You're not being crazy," he replied softly, "You just lost your temper. But...try not to. If it's going to get you into situations like this...try not to."
I was outraged.
"My reaction was perfectly applicable to the situation! And who are you to tell me that I overreact? I heard you screaming at someone on the phone earlier!"
Spencer sighed, shaking his head, "I'm the CEO, Adriana. I hate to say it, but that's the way it is. You're made responsible to people. Me? I'm not."
I exhaled fast, knowing he was right, "I suppose."
"Look, baby." He put his cup of tea down, "We all know you're a damn fantastic lawyer. You were born to do this. It's in your bloodstream, pumping hard and hot through your veins. Always has been, ever since I've known you. And you're determined. This is just a little bump in the road, a little setback. But please don't tell me that Adriana Esmerelda Rodriguez is going to give up. Because the beautiful, intelligent, dedicated, passionate, driven Adriana Esmerelda Rodriguez, I know? She never would."
I stared back at him, tears welling up in my eyes, "How do you always know the right things to say?"
Spencer shook his head, "I know the truthful things to say."
I bit down on my lip and then before I knew it, I'd launched myself towards him, capturing his lips in a kiss.
He hesitated for just a split second before he groaned, his hand flying to the back of my head, to tangle in my hair, tongue in my mouth.
I wrapped myself around him like a vine, pushing myself into the hard planes of his body and practically sitting myself down on his lap. God, this man was as sexy as sin and there was something about him in a suit with stubble on his face that just did things to a girl's body that couldn't be controlled. He was like the candy you couldn't get enough of, no matter how much you knew it was going to rot your teeth. And right now? I was in the mood for lollipops.
Grabbing hold of his belt, I frantically began tugging at it, trying to get it undone, more than surprised at the wave of hormones that had just appeared to wash over me.
"Whoa," he pulled away, panting hard.
I gave him a slow smile, tugging on his lip with my teeth and then kissing him hard again, going for his belt. I knew exactly what I wanted.
His lips slowed against mine and I pulled away slightly.
"What?" I said, between planting kisses on his still lips, "Come on, Spence! Come on, kiss me."
He leant back, shaking his head.
"What?" I kissed his lips, his cheek and that spot behind his ear I knew he loved, "Come on, Spence. You can take my mind off things."
He didn't respond.
"Spence, you can take me to bed." I paused, kissing him again, "Let's go to bed."
Looking at his face, the passion in me went from 100 to a flat out zero.
"Why won't you kiss me?" I insisted.
"I can't." he shook his head, "I just can't."
"Kiss me!" I found myself screeching at him.
"Adriana. I can't."
The passion I'd had not too long ago was now replaced with anger. An anger at why he wasn't kissing me back. An anger at why he was being so evasive. An anger at his blank expression. What the hell was he playing at? I was offering it to him on a platter, this, the man who seemed to never get enough of sex with a myriad of women, wasn't responding to me? Was I really that bad at seduction? Or was I just not attractive enough?
"So what Spence? I'm not good enough to go to bed with?" I growled, folding my arms over my chest.
"It's not that, you know it's not that." He shook his head again, eyes dipping for a split second before running a hand through the stubble on his chin, "Let's just not do this right now Adri."
"No, let's talk about it!" I shouted, "Let's talk about why you don't want to take me to bed, Spencer. So, I'm good enough for a fantasy every once in a while but not for real sex?"
"Adriana---"
"No Spencer. It's my turn. Why don't you want to? Answer me that. What don't you want to sleep with me?"
"Adri, you've been up for hours, you need to rest." He tried.
"No. I don't need to rest. I need to talk." I insisted
"Adri---"
"Do I not turn you on? Huh? Do I just not do it for you like I supposedly used to?" I questioned, needing to know the reason why. My rage was bubbling up even further, ready to explode.
"Just say it! Say what we're both thinking! You don't want me anymore for some reason. Just say it!"
"No, Adriana—"
"Were they good? The other girls? All the other girls you've been with. How were they in bed?"
"Adriana, don't do this---"
"Why are they good enough, huh?" I shouted, emotion annoyingly catching in my throat, "They're good enough to sleep with but not me? Why don't you want me?!"
A tear spilled onto my cheek as he yanked me into his arms, "Why don't you want me?" my voice was weak now, no matter how much I wanted to protest against the man holding me against his chest.
He kissed the top of my head, hard and then grabbed my hand, tugging it downwards.
"You feel that?" he asked.
"Feel what?"
He let out a chuckle, "Way to bruise a man's ego, Adri." He smiled, holding my hand tighter, "That."
I flexed my hand against him, like he prompted and then gasped and blushed simultaneously.
"Oh." I murmured.
"Yeah oh," he replied, tilting my chin upwards with his thumb and forefinger, "Adriana, I want you so so badly. So badly it hurts. Every part of my brain and my body is screaming at me right now to take this opportunity, trust me. God, sometimes it was all I could think about as that naive kid. But you're tired and upset, and you're doing this because you're hurt. I don't want it to ever be like that...I want to make you happy but not like this. Not like this. I never want you to regret it. Us. You get that right, baby?"
I blinked through the tears filling my eyes.
"Okay." My voice was hoarse. What the hell was I thinking? Of course, I needed a distraction, but sex? I'd never done that before and it would be more than obvious once we got past kissing and a little bit of touching on the sofa. I was skating on thin ice as it was.
He sighed, kissing my lips, soft and sweet, "God, you're amazing. Please don't be upset with me."
"I'm not," I replied quietly, "I—I really like you Spence, that's all."
"I really like you too, Adri." He smiled at me, "Come on, Angel. Let's get you to bed. You've been up for far too long."
"You're right," I nodded, pulling myself together, "Besides, I need my beauty sleep."
He laughed, looking at me almost incredulously, "You're stunningly beautiful already."
"Because I sleep." I giggled, backhanding his compliment.
"You're so gorgeous." He tugged off his tie, "Absolutely gorgeous. But I digress. Off to bed for you, my Sleeping Beauty."
All of a sudden, he swept me into his arms, causing me to scream.
"Shh! Shh!" he chuckled, carrying me into the bedroom, "You'll scream the penthouse down."
With one hand, he pulled back the covers and then he leant down and plonked me into the soft downy mattress.
"Spence, I'm fully dressed!" I giggled.
"As much as I love it, now is not the time for giggling," he tried and failed to look stern, "Sleep, baby."
I rolled my eyes, turning onto my side, "Alright."
He kissed my forehead, "Sleep well, babe. Just call if you need me."
"Spence? Aren't you going back to work?"
He looked at me and scoffed, "You're here. I want to be wherever you are. Particularly now."
I pouted but he immediately shot me a look that could silence a crowd.
"Okay." I squeaked.
"Good." Spencer nodded, "You just give me a call if you need me. I'm here. You can't get rid of me that easy."
I couldn't help my smile.
"Night Spence."
"Bye, baby."
Contented, despite the last tumultuous 48 hours, I closed my eyes and drifted into sleep.
*********************************************************************************************
[Author's Note]
I feel like sometimes my chapters end with sleep because that's exactly what I need.
Hi readers!
Hope you liked this chapter even if it was a bit harrowing for Adriana. (who am I kidding, a LOT harrowing). This is Adriana's law side and she'll fight to the death for it. No kidding this time. But will she get fired from Boone and Webster? Is her career now over?
You can see Adriana's work dynamic here, but whilst writing this, I missed Spencer so he's made an appearance towards the end, hence the lengthier chapter!
Now summer is approaching, I will hopefully be able to write and upload more frequently. I love this story and I hope you're loving it to. More time = more dedication = more chapters! Fingers crossed for some time after my exams in May!
The song above is a classic one I like - Dean Martin - Ain't That A Kick In The Head and the picture of Adriana (who I picture as Jessica Alba - see my cast list for more of my thoughts!)
Until I upload next, I wish you all the best! (and happy belated Easter if you celebrate it!)
- Bex 'xo