“No problem,” I say, especially considering that I wasn’t working at all. I don’t have any trials coming up, and every other deadline I have isn’t imminent, which is a good thing because I’ve been terribly inefficient, unable to focus, often rereading the same passage three or four times. My vision is starting to suffer, too, a shady border framing my eyes, as if everything were in a dream or flashback.
Alexa closes the door behind her. A big talk? I hope not. We’ve talked enough.
“Well, I have something for you,” she says. She is wearing a blouse with frills at the edge of her sleeves and a blue skirt. She cleans up good.
She hands me a manila folder.
“Is this a subpoena?” I ask.
She smiles. “Open it.”
I rip it open from the side and remove three, no, four sheets of foil, each containing thirty small pills.
She puts her hand on my cheek. “Your knee will get better, but until it does, you shouldn’t have to live in pain. Not my man.”
“Alexa. . This is. . How did. .” I lower my voice. “This is. . illegal.”
She puts her hands on my chest. I like it when she puts her hands on my chest. She gives me a longer, softer kiss, a taste of strawberry on her tongue. I could learn to love this girl.
She puts her mouth next to my ear. “Then maybe tonight,” she whispers, her breath tickling my ear, “you can spank me for being a bad girl.”
33
Shauna
Friday, June 21
Bradley John, newly deputized as the second chair of the Arangold defense team, finishes arranging our lone conference room, which has now officially become the war room. He has set up the television and DVD player in one corner for the videos of the auditorium construction during its various phases; he has one end of the room devoted to the flooring issue, another to colonnades and shoring, a third to the various internal issues during Arangold’s renovation of the civic auditorium.
“This case is bigger than two lawyers,” I say, as if I’m suddenly realizing it.
“Yeah, but you know enough about this stuff for six.” Bradley smiles at me. I like this kid. A solid mind and a good sense for how and when to say the right thing. This is one of those times.
And he’s right. I’ve learned more about a major construction project than I ever wanted to know. I’ll never walk into a football stadium or concert hall or government building without thinking of tuck-pointing and change orders, soil samples and pre-bid drawings.
“Hey, Shauna? Just out of curiosity-why the battlefield promotion? I’m not complaining, but Rory keeps asking about Jason, and now he’s getting me. What’s up with Jason?”
I let out a sigh while I organize the depositions in the order I want them. “I was hoping you could tell me,” I say. Then I stop and look at him. “Actually, that’s a serious statement. Have you noticed anything unusual with Jason?”
Bradley gives a Who knows? shrug. “I’ve been like you, boss. Buried in Mariel for the last two months and now into the fire with Arangold. I’ve barely talked to him.”
“I know.”
“But you know Jason,” he says, trying to appease me. “If he’s not on trial, he mopes around. He just had a tough stretch with the knee blowing out, he’s missing the summer marathon season, he hasn’t had a big trial lately-”
“But this is a big trial.” I drive my finger into the table. “This is a bet-the-company case for the Arangolds.”
“He doesn’t want to try this case? He turned it down? Oh.” Bradley pushes his lips out. “Yeah, now that’s unusual. Yeah, I don’t know then.”
My eyes drift off in the direction of Jason’s office, though I’d need X-ray vision to see it from the conference room.
“Be right back,” I say. I didn’t like how Jason and I left things yesterday. He bolted on me and then disappeared for the entire afternoon. The lad is out of sorts, methinks, and needs a friend.
When I reach Jason’s office, I see something I’ve never seen. His door is closed.
I knock weakly with the back of my hand. “Anyone home?”
“Hey, Shauna, come in, come in.” Jason has a big enough office for a couch on the end opposite his desk, which is where I find him and his new lady friend.
“Shauna Tasker, Alexa Himmel.”
“Hi.” She gives me a quick once-over and waves at me from the couch. She could get up. It wouldn’t kill her.
So I wave back. “Nice to meet you.”
Yeah, she’s Jason’s type, all right. Exotic and mysterious, sexy.
“I didn’t mean to intrude. Jason,” I say, feeling like a teacher or my mother, “when you get a second, nothing urgent.”
“No problem. Alexa just stopped by for a minute. Shauna has a huge trial coming up,” Jason says. He’s got that spacey grin on his face again, like he did when I caught him mumbling song lyrics and lighting matches the other day. On his lap is a manila envelope, opened, contents unknown.
“Oh? That’s exciting,” Alexa says, in that way you say something and mean the exact opposite. I mean, surely it can’t be as exciting as, say, spending your days transcribing what other people say. Seriously, trying a multimillion-dollar case with an entire family business on the line is exciting, but basically serving as a human tape recorder-that’s the coolest!
She holds her stare on me, eyebrows raised, as if to say to me, Was there anything else, sweetheart? Or should you be running along?
I clap my hands together, heat rising to my face. “Well, Alexa, nice meeting you,” I say, and for some reason I do a salute. I actually salute like I’m in the military. Why on earth did I do that?
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Jason says, saluting me back. He laughs. Alexa laughs. I make a decision right there: It’s okay for Jason to laugh. Not okay for Alexa to laugh, not when she’s basically laughing at me. Not okay for a little Kewpie doll court reporter to wiggle her sweet ass and be more welcome in Jason’s office than his best friend and law partner. Not okay for a little low-rent typist who probably didn’t make it past high school to talk down to someone who graduated law school at the top of her class and then built up her own law firm from scratch when nobody thought she would succeed, nobody-
Wow. Where did that come from?
“Okay, bye then.” I close the door to their continued amusement.
I return to the conference room and tell Bradley to shut up before he can even ask me. “We don’t need Jason,” I tell him. “We’ll win this case, just you and me.”
34
Jason
Wednesday, June 26
The next several days are like a blur. I ducked out early on Friday and spent the whole weekend with Alexa, most of the time naked, trying out new options sexually, the bad-girl thing she’d whispered in my ear being a particular highlight. I’ve never been into role-playing; the nurse and patient, the cop, the chambermaid, the prison guard, the flight attendant, the college professor-none of that has ever floated my boat. Nor does the rough stuff do anything for me. Aggressive, sure, but not abusive, not hitting or choking.
But every now and then, I like to talk. And so does Alexa. Most of it is merely suggestive, but when we get going, hot and sweaty, that old-fashioned girl gets pretty graphic.
But here’s what we don’t talk about: Never once this weekend did she ask me about my knee, never once about the pills. I don’t like to see you in pain was the only thing she said, which worked for me.