After Office Hours

by E Caroline Wilson

  “Okay,” Devin conceded, shifting her hips in her chair. “So I cheated a little. But this is different, Chanel.”

  “How is it different? You knew you were doing wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were curious, and you just had to know. David also knew he was wrong to look at your sex tape, but he was curious, and his curiosity won out.”

  “But there was no harm done by my looking at my Christmas gifts ahead of time. Besides, I never looked at everything, just the biggest package. And I always acted surprised on Christmas morning. Mama was never the wiser.”

  Chanel stared at her across the table, lowering her chin to her chest in a manner that made Devin feel about two feet tall. “The only difference I see is that David got caught, and you didn’t. And if you had made a slip of the tongue and said that you’ve been wanting to try on that new coat ever since you first saw it, your mother would’ve known you’d looked at it, and I’m sure you would’ve expressed a lot of regret. And your mother’s feelings would’ve been hurt, because she knew she wasn’t there to see your face the moment you unwrapped it. You robbed her of that joy, because even though you acted surprised, you were pretending. And of course, if she had asked you beforehand if you’d peeked, you would’ve denied it…just like David did.”

  Devin’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. So I would’ve lied and said I hadn’t done any peeking. But it still doesn’t seem like the same thing. Maybe it is in theory, but I don’t think Mama would have been as hurt as I am now. I really, truly believed that David’s interest in me went beyond just sex. His looking at that video proves that getting me into bed was his endgame all along.”

  Chanel chuckled. “I’ve got news for you, Devin. That’s the objective of most men. They see a woman they think is attractive, and they want to take them to bed. It’s what makes the world go round, honey. And sometimes in that quest to get some nookie, a man will realize that his feelings run deeper. And if the feeling’s mutual…well, that’s how people end up getting married.

  “So,” she continued, “with that said, let me ask you this: Did David treat you as though you didn’t mean any more to him than just a bed partner?”

  Devin didn’t hesitate. “No. He’s always been a perfect gentleman. He actually had a way of making me feel like I was the most important woman in the world…like I was someone he cherishes.”

  Chanel shrugged. There you have it. Of course, I’m sure he got good home training and knows how to treat a woman, but it doesn’t sound like he’d do things like stand you up or say he’ll call and then not do it. It sounds to me like his interest in you is genuine. Maybe you acted too hastily. My advice to you, Devin, since you asked for it,” she added with a grin, “is to talk to him. Tell him that you realize you overreacted. Ask him to accept your apology. You don’t want to be the one to mention that you’d like to pick up where you left off, but apologizing to him will leave the door open for him to make a move, if that’s what he plans to do.”

  Chanel diplomatically left it at that, but Devin knew how the rest of it went. If he hasn’t found someone else. Because by now she and David had been apart longer than they had been together. The happiest month of my life, followed by the most miserably seven weeks of my life.

  Nodding, Devin said, “I think that’s good advice, Chanel. Thank you. Thank you for helping me see the bigger picture.”

  “Any time. Now, tell me what everyone from the old neighborhood is up to…like Mercy and Glenys.”

  Devin complied, informing Chanel of what was happening in her friend’s lives. But as she spoke, her thoughts were with David and the politely distant manner in which he now spoke with her at the firm. He’d been cold toward her for weeks now. What if he’d moved on, found someone else? She would’ve blown it, not wanting to forgive him for doing something she’d been guilty of herself a time or two because she’d failed to look at the big picture. And her tenure at Holt & Cotten was coming to an end; Carla would be returning in just a few weeks.

  The man of her dreams might have slipped right through her fingers. It hurt to even think about it.

  Chapter 24

  “You okay, Larry?” Ben asked. “You kind look like you’ve just lost your best friend.”

  “I’m fine,” Larry replied, too quickly. The look on his partner’s face told him he wasn’t fooled.

  But Ben didn’t press. Instead he said, “I just wanted to say that I think both of us should make statements this afternoon when we kick off the festivities.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m prepared to say a few words.”

  “Good.” With that, Ben left.

  Larry rolled his eyes, glad his partner had gone. The truth was, he was in a foul mood. It had started last night. He’d gone to an upscale bar and struck up a conversation with two charming young women, his eye on the strawberry blonde with the saucer-shaped eyes, who he hoped he could talk into coming home with him. He was, frankly, hoping to get laid. But to his disappointment, she and her friend, an ordinary-looking brunette, politely told him they had something private to discuss…a nice way of telling him to get lost. He’d taken his drink and moved to the other side of the bar, from where he noticed a bearded, muscular redheaded man sit next to the women. They seemed only too happy to chat with him, he noticed sullenly. The man appeared to be in his late thirties, tops. And that, Larry knew, made all the difference. Those women, whom he guessed were in their earlier thirties, considered him too old for them.

  When he moved away from them, he heard them giggling, and his instinct told them they were laughing at a man his age trying to come on to them. He might take rejection better from the pretty one—well, maybe a little better—but it stung to know that that plain Jane brunette was laughing at him. He wouldn’t have looked at her twice even twenty years ago.

  In the end, he finished his drink and left the bar. The women were still chatting with that young dude. Larry simply went home to his new, sterile bachelor pad and jerked off. But he wanted sex with a woman, and the fact that he wasn’t getting any angered him…especially when he thought about his estranged wife and her young lover. It was important for his bruised ego to have someone young and vibrant who wanted him, too.

  Today was Friday, and he’d be leaving the office early, after a few hours of the party. He’d get some snatch this weekend for sure.

  He couldn’t worry about that right now, though. He looked at his calendar, then buzzed for Marianne. She appeared in his doorway promptly, notebook in hand. “Yes, Larry. What’s up?”

  “I’m expecting a call from Ken Winters of Gem Publishing sometime today, probably this afternoon. I know there’ll be a lot going on, with the party and all, but I can’t miss this call. I’ve been courting his business, which will mean substantial revenues for us. So make sure somebody’s covering the phones at all times, and drag me out of the men’s room if you have to.”

  She repeated the information back to him. “I’ll take care of it.”

  *****

  Between laughing and joking with his colleagues, David’s eyes darted around the room. It was quite an accomplishment for Holt & Cotten to have survived—and thrived—for twenty-five years. He felt a certain amount of pride for having participated in their success. The firm was mentioned in all press accounts about Judge Asher’s criminal charges. The jurist, financially creamed in a recent divorce, was on the take, and he’d likely serve several years in jail for selling justice. It had been an unfortunate ending to over twenty years on the bench.

  The discovery had made David a shining star, and in the legal community in general. He’d received several offers from prestigious law firms, inviting him to join. He suspected that Ben and Larry might even extend a partnership offer to him, something they didn’t give out lightly. He politely told the other firms he wasn’t interested, and he’d tell Ben and Larry the same if they asked. If anything, his dream of establishing his own practice had become stronger than ever.

  A buffet had been set up just outside the co
nference room, and because of the momentous occasion, there was even a bar set up. Ben and Larry might be conservative, but they both appreciated good scotch. The bartender also had a selection of wine and other liquors, plus the appropriate mixers.

  Ben and Larry each spoke, and Larry offered a toast to the continued success of the firm. David looked about for Devin, but didn’t see her. He realized she probably had been told to man the phones during the party. He hoped someone planned on relieving her. He understood that business could come to a standstill because of the celebration, but it wasn’t fair for her to have to miss out on the food, drink, and fun and be chained to her desk…even if she wasn’t doing much work, which she probably wasn’t.

  Even Carla made an appearance, bringing along her new baby. She told everyone she missed them, and reminded them she’d be back to work in two weeks. That three-month leave she’d taken had certainly gone by quickly, David thought. She’d left in mid-May, and here it was the last week of July. Carla told him that she and her husband had moved during her leave, purchasing a two-bedroom condo in their native Queens. They’d made a nursery of the second bedroom, and she told him it looked lovely, but said that by the time her new son started school she wanted to be living upstate, in a house with a big yard for him to play in.

  It just went to show, David thought. Everyone had goals and dreams. Carla’s was to save enough money to buy a home and move to the suburbs. His was to open his own law practice. And Devin’s was to learn as much as she could and become successful.

  It occurred to him that this might be a good time to have a chat with her, ask how she was doing, since everyone else was at the party. Then he saw her enter the room, and his heart lurched.

  He watched as she approached Larry Cotten, who stood chatting with associate attorneys Portia James and Paul Logan. She probably had a message for him. At least she’d get to eat…

  “Mr. Cotten, you have a phone call,” Devin politely said. In a lower voice she added, “it’s that party you wanted to speak with.”

  “Thank you, Devin.” Larry quickly excused himself from the associates he’d been chatting with and left the room. Devin, now that she’d connected Larry with the call from Gem Publishing he was hoping to get, took a moment to check out the festivities. Instrumental music played on a laptop speaker. Some of the staff was seated around the conference table, enjoying food, drink, and their coworkers. Others stood talking. A buffet lined the wall outside the conference room. Holt & Cotten put on a nice party, she thought.

  She stopped at the buffet, picking up a few pinwheel sandwiches to eat at her desk. David came out of the conference room. “Hey.”

  “Hey there.

  “What’s up?”

  “Oh, I’m just grabbing a quick bite.”

  “What, Marianne’s got you chained to your desk or something?”

  “They wanted somebody to listen out for the phones. I don’t mind. I always wanted to be somebody.” She smiled at her little joke. “I’d better get back. Even though Mr. Cotten just got the call he’d been waiting for, I’m still responsible to cover the phones. I’ll see you, huh?”

  “Sure.”

  David was being friendly, she thought as she walked off. She took that as a good sign…

  *****

  Larry hung up the phone, feeling proud of himself. He’d been successful in procuring Gem Publishing’s business for the firm. At least his professional life was going well. Now, if he could just get a warm, willing, and preferably young woman in his bed tonight…

  He left his office and wandered to the reception area. Devin sat behind the massive desk alone, munching on a sandwich. She looked surprised to see him. “Is everything okay, Mr. Cotten?”

  “Just fine. I wanted to thank you for making sure I got that call. It was extremely important.”

  “I was simply following the instructions Marianne gave me.”

  “Good girl. That phone call represents a quarter million dollars’ worth of billable hours to the firm.”

  She shrugged. “That’s wonderful news, Mr. Cotten, but it’s not like I can take credit for it. All I did was tell you that you had a phone call.” She smiled.

  God, she was gorgeous, he thought. She looked very much like her mother. Larry generally didn’t pay any attention to the cleaning staff, but Devin’s mother—he didn’t know her name—was a fox. It was hard not to notice her. She had to be at least in her mid-forties, given that she had a grown daughter, but she had the slim figure of a younger woman, as well as a youthful face. Twenty years ago she probably looked even better than Devin did now, for she had a lighter complexion. He rarely looked twice at a woman her age, and it wasn’t as though he ever acknowledged her, but he followed her with his eyes when she came in to empty his wastebasket. Even pushing fifty she still looked damned attractive, or at least she would in better clothes than that black cotton skirt, black smock, and white polo shirt she always wore when working, the smock and shirt both emblazoned with the name of the company she worked for.

  But he wasn’t interested in looking at a fully clothed woman. He wanted a woman naked, lying on a bed, stroking herself and beckoning to him to join her…

  He found himself unable to take his eyes off Devin. He had to admit that her dark complexion was kind of exotic. It would probably make for an exciting contrast, naked against his own white skin. Besides, she had three things going for her that her mother didn’t. One, she was younger. Two, she’d soon be leaving the firm, so he could have his fun and then never have to see her again. Three, she’d already given some to David Andrews, so he knew she put out.

  Buoyed by the good news he’d gotten, he leaned in toward her desk. This would probably be as good time as any to make a move.

  “You know,” he said, “I feel bad that you’re missing the party, especially since you made sure I got that call. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner? It would be my way of thanking you, not just for this afternoon, but for your weeks of excellent service.” He smiled confidently, but it did a slow fade when she seemed to sputter for a reply.

  “That’s…that’s very kind of you to offer, Mr. Cotten, but I have to decline. I…I have plans.”

  Dammit, she was turning him down, too? He expected her to jump at the opportunity to go out with him. After all, David Andrews was nearly merely an associate. He was a partner.

  “Ms. DaCosta,” he said, addressing her formally, “let me be frank. I know you were dating David Andrews.” He enjoyed the shock on her face. “I can assure you that whatever he did for you, I can do three times as much.”

  She drew in her breath with a whoosh. “What he did for me? Are you saying…are you saying you think David paid me, like I’m some whore?”

  “All right,” he said quickly, gesturing for her to keep her voice down. “Maybe you slept with him for free. But I can make it worth your while. We’ll call it ‘gifts’.”

  She abruptly stood, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. “We’ll call it nothing. And I really think it’s best that you stop talking and leave my workspace, Mr. Cotten.” She rushed to the swinging gate that enclosed her receptionist cubicle. Larry quickly moved to the rear of the cubicle, where the gate was located, just inches from the entrance to the copy room, and stood there, his arm stretched out with his palm resting on the wall, effectively blocking her from going beyond the gate.

  She stared at him coldly. “Let me pass.”

  “Come on, Devin, what’s your rush? This is an ideal opportunity for you and I to get better acquainted.” His eyes dropped to her heaving chest, and he leaned in close to her, a leer on his face. “You know, I can promise I won’t disappoint. I have a big cock and a talented tongue—”

  “Stop it!” She slapped his face.

  David had had enough. The party had been going on for nearly two hours, and poor Devin had only had time to grab a couple of those pinwheel sandwiches. Hell, the caterers would probably be along in another hour or so to clean up. He decided against
saying anything to Marianne. He was going to fix Devin a plate himself and carry it to her, and he didn’t care who saw him do it.

  He’d never learned just who had blown the whistle on his and Devin’s relationship. He’d always been curious, but he knew Ben wouldn’t share that information with him, and he refused to ask a question he wouldn’t get the answer to. Besides, he’d managed to convey a cool, I-don’t-give-a-damn demeanor to Ben, and asking questions would go against that impression. He’d always suspected it was Pam Sullivan, who had entered the office that time he’d been flirting with Devin at the reception desk. He wouldn’t put it past that fat, nosy bitch to have followed Devin to the restaurants where they’d rendezvoused on the upper west side, before they decided it would be safer to head to restaurants north of Ninety-sixth Street.

  He reminded himself that it really didn’t matter, not with the plans he’d made. But just because Devin was through with him didn’t mean he’d stopped caring about her well-being. He wondered if she was dating that smug gasbag, that guy who had to be forty if he was a day. The dude might be a little old for Devin, but he had one thing David lacked…the same skin color as Devin. But the two of them got along so well…their relationship transcended skin color. Her heart seemed to have softened a bit. Maybe he could talk her into having dinner with him. He wanted to tell her what he’d decided in terms of his career, to see if she might be interested in taking that leap with him. That would certainly give them togetherness…