by Laura Sutton
She spent Tuesday much the same way, except that Alyssa invited her to lunch. Sam was grateful; she hadn’t had the chance to make any friends since moving to Alexandria, and Alyssa seemed nice enough. It had been a pleasant lunch at a little deli, and Alyssa was a loveable gossip. Greg in IT was dating Cindy, the firm’s forensic accountant, and Shelly, one of the lawyers who had just made partner, was going through a nasty divorce.
“What– what about Eli?” Sam asked, trying to appear nonchalant and failing miserably, if the smirk on Alyssa’s face said anything.
“Isn’t he hot?” Alyssa mock-whispered.
“I guess.” Sam shrugged, and Alyssa rolled her eyes.
“You’d have to be dead to not think he’s hot. Everyone thinks he’s hot,” Alyssa said, popping a chip in her mouth, and Sam grinned.
“What’s worse is, he’s always single. Every event, he shows up alone, and he never responds to any flirting. Trust me, we’ve all tried and we’ve all failed.”
Sam nodded and changed the subject. But it was nice to know that Eli was apparently single. Maybe a little pathetic too, but still nice. After all, he still had her phone number even a year later. So maybe, just maybe, what they shared wasn’t completely dead for him, either.
She had just shut down her computer and was packing up for the day when there was a knock on her open office door.
“Hey.”
Sam looked up to see Eli’s large, well-built frame fill the doorway and just like on Monday, she had to remind herself to breathe. Simply being in the same room with him made her heart race and her palms sweat.
“H– hey,” she squeaked and then cleared her throat, “What can I do for you?” She smiled up at him, a smile he returned. Okay, maybe they could work together.
“I spoke to Debra this morning, and she’s agreed to let us take her to dinner after voir dire tomorrow. I told her I wanted to catch you up on some things, since you’re new to the case and the firm.”
“That’s great! Where should I meet you?”
“How about the Storehouse? It’s close to the courthouse, right on the Potomac. Say… 5:30?”
Sam agreed and he left with a small smile. She spent the rest of Tuesday evening and all day Wednesday combing through the boxes of discovery from the prosecution. It was a very circumstantial case– so circumstantial, in fact, that the coroner hadn’t even ruled the death a homicide or as having questionable circumstances.
There was digitalis in the victim’s blood, but not an overwhelming amount, and it had been prescribed to him for years. The entirety of the prosecution’s case rested on that internet search Debra had completed months before her husband’s death, about how to safely remove oleander bushes from your yard.
At 4:30pm, her phone vibrated with a text.
Eli— Hungry? We are about done here.
Sam— Yeah, should I head out?
Eli— Go ahead, the reservation is at 5:30pm but they have a nice bar area.
Sam— See you at 5:30.
Eli— See you then.
Sam gathered up her things and hurried home. She didn’t have enough time to shower, but she didn’t want to meet such an important client in a rumpled suit she had been wearing all day. She had 45 minutes to get ready and be at the restaurant.
Sam walked into her bedroom and opened up her closet door. She wanted something comfortable and professional and maybe just a little sexy. She wasn’t stupid or delusional; she knew how Eli still looked at her. He may not want to be with her, but the attraction he had for her in Costa Rica still burned in in the depths of his dark eyes.
Sam reached into her closet and pulled out a soft black knit dress. It had three-quarter sleeves and fell to her knees– no daring designs or anything, but the material and surplice neckline hugged her curves in a way that wasn’t exactly appropriate for the office or the courtroom, but appropriate enough for an early dinner with a client and colleague.
Sam stripped out of her clothes and looked at herself quickly in the mirror. She had on an unremarkable white cotton bra and gray cotton panties, perfect for the workday, but tonight wasn’t just about getting to know Debra and helping her case. She also wanted to drive Eli a little crazy, to remind him how much he had enjoyed their time together and maybe– just maybe– realize being with her was more important than his fear of his brother and his family.
She stripped out of her very utilitarian panties and bra and pulled open her lingerie drawer. She didn’t have many fancy underthings, but she had a few things that she felt sexy in. Sam plucked out a black silk bra and matching lacy panties, bought on a whim in a store that catered to bigger girls. When she bought the set, she wasn’t sure where she would wear them, but they made her feel sexy and powerful and that was the feeling she needed tonight. She needed Eli to see, to understand that what they shared was special and important.
Quickly she slipped on the skimpy, lacy panties and the bra that gave her already generous breasts even more shape and cleavage, and into the dress. She didn’t have time to do much else besides run a quick brush through her hair and pin it back up into a messy bun before touching up her eye makeup, blush, and applying lip gloss. She slipped on some black flats just in case she had to walk home after dinner and grabbed her purse and phone just as the rideshare app messaged her to let her know her car was waiting.
Sam was a woman on a mission, and she wouldn’t fail. She would get her client to trust her, and she would make Eli see that being apart was wrong.
The car dropped her off right in front of the restaurant and with a quick ‘thank you’ and a generous tip she was out of the car and on the cobblestone sidewalk. The restaurant was right in the heart of Old Town Alexandria’s historic district, where the past met modernity in a way that reminded her of New Orleans. If she closed her eyes, she could almost block out the sounds of traffic and imagine what it was like when horses and carriages roamed the streets.
She pulled open the door and was greeted by a pretty hostess.
“Hello, welcome to the Storehouse. Do you have a reservation?” the young brunette asked with a smile.
“Hello, yes, it’s under my colleague’s name, Eli di Ruggiero. It should be for 5:30pm,” Sam replied.
“You’re the first of your party to arrive.” The hostess smiled and gathered up three large menus. “If you’ll follow me?
Sam followed the hostess through the dining room to a table on the opposite side from the bar swiftly filling up with young professionals coming in for an after-work drink. Eli was smart to request a table away from the noise of the bar, so they could have a hopefully enlightening conversation with Debra.
The table, large enough for only four people, was covered in a crisp white tablecloth. The silverware shined and the glasses at each setting were spotless. This place was definitely high end, and not Sam’s normal fare. She hoped she remembered which fork to use at which time.
With a quiet ‘enjoy’ the hostess slipped away and Sam seated herself to wait for the waiter and for Eli and their client. When she opened the menu, she almost cried. The Storehouse wasn’t just a ritzy steakhouse, it was a Cajun/Creole-inspired steakhouse. There were crawfish and shrimp beignets and NOLA oysters on the appetizer menu, steak Pontchartrain and etouffée on the dinner menu. A lump thickened her throat; Eli had picked this restaurant for her, knowing how much she loved New Orleans. He’d remembered. Not just the sex, which had been mind-blowing, but all their conversations in the quiet and on the beach, all the little revelations about themselves.
She was still trying to reel in her reaction when Eli arrived at the table with a pretty, slightly plump older woman. She wasn’t fat at all, but she looked like a woman who's had four children and reached middle age, where things started to naturally slow down, including one’s metabolism. Sam stood and smiled at the pretty blonde woman. Her hair was perfectly styled and her suit still crisp and uncreased, even after spending all day in a courtroom.
“Hello, Mrs. Cork. I’m Sam, the
new lawyer on your case,” Sam said, standing and holding her hand out for Debra to shake.
Debra smiled a warm, friendly smile and shook Sam’s hand. “Hello, Sam, it’s nice to meet you. Please, call me Debra. Eli said you were joining the team. In fact, he bragged about you a lot, today.”
Sam blushed lightly and glanced at Eli, who grinned but rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, obviously a little embarrassed.
“Well, I’m only the third chair, so my job is mainly to go through all the discovery and research so we can give you the best defense possible. The flashy stuff will be up to Richard and Eli,” Sam replied. She resumed her seat and watched as Eli pulled out Debra’s chair for her and took his across the small table from Sam. His eyes held hers for a moment and then glanced down at her chest and back up.
Oh yeah. She’d picked the right dress.
“Well, I’m still happy to meet you. When Eli offered to take us to an early dinner at my favorite restaurant, I jumped at the chance, mainly because the etouffée here is to die for,” Debra said, beaming as she opened her menu.
“This is my first time here, but I was excited when I saw the menu. I miss New Orleans so much,” Sam said, a little wistful.
“Oh! Are you from New Orleans?” Debra asked right as the waiter came by to take their orders. Eli ordered crawfish and shrimp beignets and blackened sea scallops for the table. Debra didn’t drink – Sam knew this from the research that had been completed on her for the case – so Sam ordered a sweet tea as did Debra, and Eli a simple water.
“No, ma’am,” Sam answered once the waiter had gone, “but I went to college and law school at Tulane. Are you from Louisiana?”
Debra nodded. “Yes, I’m from Hammond, and went to LSU in Baton Rouge. It’s where I met George.” She swallowed and averted her gaze as sorrow suffused her features.
“I’m sorry for your loss. It’s never easy, losing a loved one, and I can’t imagine losing a husband and then having to deal with this mess.” She meant the words. Personally, she didn’t think Debra was guilty of killing her husband, but that was a conclusion she would keep to herself, because it had no bearing on her defense.
“Thank you.” Debra sniffed delicately into her napkin and took a deep breath. “George was a difficult man to love, especially as we aged– well, as I aged, really– and the pressures of running such a large and visible church took their toll.”
“That must’ve been difficult, being in the public eye like that.”
“It was. The first ten years of our marriage were lovely.” Debra smiled a little at her own words. “Maybe ‘lovely’ is a bit of an exaggeration, no marriage is without strife, but we had less of it back then, when the church was smaller. Then it started growing and growing and when George’s sermons found an audience online, suddenly he was preaching to 30,000 people a weekend and the sermons were syndicated on TV. It became a lot. Too much.”
The waiter came back with the appetizers and took their dinner orders. To Sam’s surprise, he gave her a flirty wink while turning to take his leave of their table. She looked to Eli, to share her amusement, but found that his eyes had darkened and his brows had drawn together in a frown. Was he– was he jealous? Of some harmless flirting from a waiter at least fifteen years her senior? The thought of him jealous, feeling possessive of her, made something inside her stomach clench. She shouldn’t want him jealous, but if he was… and if he appreciated her dress and how she looked… then the odds were good that he wasn’t over her, either. A family of butterflies took up residence in her stomach.
“Oh, goodness, these are good!” Debra exclaimed and Sam mentally shook herself.
“The scallops? They smell incredible.” Sam said. She reached for one and took a bite, unable to stop her eyes from closing in delight at the taste.
“I told you the food here was good,” Debra said, smiling, when Sam opened her eyes.
“I believe I’m the one to thank. I picked the restaurant,” came Eli’s deep voice. Sam looked at him and sucked in a breath. His eyes were smoldering, and oh, God, she recognized that look. Recognized and had missed that look of lust and want directed at her.
Sam dropped her eyes to the table and took a deep breath. She needed to concentrate, because this wasn’t a date with Eli; this was a dinner with a client who wasn’t being as forthcoming as they needed her to be. She needed to be on her game, and do her job… even if all she wanted to do was slip off her shoe and slide her foot up Eli’s hard, muscular calf and tease him. That could wait, would have to wait. Right now, she needed to talk to Debra and figure out her secrets.
Chapter Sixteen
Eli
Eli watched as Sam worked to get Debra out of her shell, something both he and Richard had tried and failed at for months. Debra only told them the bare minimum of what they needed to know, only what she thought they needed to know, not trusting them more than she absolutely had to. Sam though… she had Debra laughing and talking, more relaxed than Eli had ever seen her. Sam hadn’t asked any very probing questions, not yet, but it was nice to see Debra let her guard down.
“Did you meet your husband while you attended LSU?” Sam asked Debra. The older woman gave her a fond smile.
“I did. He was so handsome. He was studying philosophy and religion, and I was studying history. I was so surprised when he talked to me at my sorority’s homecoming mixer.” Debra laughed a little.
“Why?” Eli asked, joining the conversation. Debra looked a little startled, as if she had forgotten he was at the table with them.
She put a loose strand of her light blonde hair behind her ear. “Well, I was what my sorority referred to as ‘a pot’.” Both Eli and Sam stared at her with confusion. “You have flowers, and you have pots. You can’t have a healthy garden with only flowers– they will choke each other. You need pots for flowers, meaning you need to recruit beautiful girls, but also some not-so-beautiful girls, to make sure there’s a mix, so they’re not all at each others’ throats. It’s not quite that way anymore, but we went to college in the mid-80s. It was a different time.”
“But you’re a beautiful woman,” Eli told her honestly. She was older than him by at least fifteen years, but she was still lovely. A genuine smile and kind green eyes.
“Oh, a lot of it is plastic surgery,” she said with unashamed frankness. “George insisted on it in the last ten years or so. I was never very thin, and after our last boy, I couldn’t get any of the weight off. I didn’t look good standing next to him, he would say. So I had gastric surgery done, and then liposuction and some fillers in my face. I wasn’t a huge fan. George, though? He loved his plastic surgeon.”
She shook her head in disbelief and Eli opened his mouth to contradict her, but the waiter arrived with their main courses.
“Was George always critical of your looks, or did that only start when your family was in the public eye?” Sam asked and Eli almost choked. She didn’t pull any punches, his girl.
Debra wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin and placed it back in her lap before she started speaking.
“You know, if you had asked me when I was twenty-one and head over heels in love with him, I would’ve said no, emphatically, but I would be wrong,” said Debra. “I didn’t recognize it, when he suggested I have a salad and not my favorite meal at a restaurant for Valentine’s Day, or when he would tell me how lucky I was to be with him, but never the other way around. Looking back though… yes, he did. I was never enough. Never pretty enough, or thin enough, or smart enough.” Debra’s voice cracked.
Sam once again laid her hand on Debra’s offering comfort. Eli could see the pain Sam was feeling for Debra etched clearly on her beautiful face.
“My ex-boyfriend, the one I dated all through law school, was like that as well,” Sam said to Debra, her voice barely loud enough to hear over the din of the restaurant.
“Really?” Debra’s voice was subdued. At that moment, she was not the confident, put-together Southern woman who had sat nex
t to him in the courtroom all day. No, this Debra was wounded and looking for someone, anyone, to understand and help her.
“Yes, and like you, I had to let so many things go. Like, ‘Oh, Sam, you really should sign up for an extra spin class, your jeans are getting a little too tight’ or ‘I’m going to order a pizza– Sam, would you like a salad?’ Honestly, if I hadn’t caught him cheating in our apartment, in our bed, I might’ve married the jerk, and then who knows where I’d be,” Sam finished with a shaky smile, clearly trying to make light of it, but Eli’s fist clenched around his fork.
Sam had let on that her ex was an ass when they were together in Costa Rica, but never in any detail. He always thought she was just avoiding talking about him out of politeness, but knowing how the man had hurt Sam had Eli wanting to know his name, to ruin his life for making his bimba hurt. Samantha should never hurt. Never.
“Did he ever do anything more than just his words?” Debra almost whispered to Sam, and Eli watched Samantha closely.
“No,” Sam replied just as softly, and Eli felt some tension leave his body. If the man had laid one finger on Sam, Eli would’ve had hunted him down and beat him bloody, and to hell with the consequences.
“You’re lucky. George didn’t start getting rough with me until long after we were married. Candice, our oldest, was probably six or seven, the first time he hit me.” Debra took a drink of her iced tea and a deep breath.
“How bad did it get?” Sam asked her gently.
“I ended up in the emergency room more times than anyone ever should. I was always so clumsy, you know.” Debra laughed bitterly, “‘Walking into doors’ and ‘falling down stairs’. It only got worse, the more pressure he was under.”