Mutually Exclusive

by Charlotte Winston

  This would be a big, headline-grabbing case, putting her front and center of the media. She did well in front of the camera, her good looks and intelligence propelling her forward. The other partners in her office looked like stereotypical older white lawyers, but she brought a little flair. Standing in front of the media with Roman Valentine when she’d tried to keep their relationship a secret? She’d rather gag herself with a spoon. The ramifications of this situation running through her head while she sat, barely able to contain herself as they babbled on as though her reputation wasn’t one the line. She was going to kill him the first chance she got.

  She wanted to bow out, make up some excuse as to why she couldn’t work for Roman. Wesley would probably question her later, but support her as long as she threw in a handful of favors. Roman had barely acknowledged her presence, but he must have seen something in her gaze when she looked at him. Probably the daggers she projected knowing if looks could kill he’d be dead.

  He didn’t speak, just narrowed his eyes and uttered the words sure to make her reconsider. “I love the color of these pale yellow walls. Much more soothing than green.”

  Green. Her safe word. The only word that came to mind when he was staring at her with his pale green eyes. The same ones that bore into her at that moment, daring her to drop him as her client. She’d never used it in the whole time they’d been together, but she fought against the need to rail against him right then, begging him to let her go about her business like nothing happened.

  That morning, she felt on top of the world. After the last couple of nights with him, they were on an even keel. But that afternoon, she felt as though her whole world was crumbling beneath her, and she wouldn’t be able to dig herself out in time before she was swallowed in its wake.

  “I’ve always appreciated the yellow.” She smiled without any emotion behind it, standing up so he’d take the hint. He did, rising and holding out his hand for her to shake again. His siblings followed his lead, making their goodbyes.

  “I have the relevant information, and I will look over it and schedule a meeting with you later on this week.” Now leave, so I can have a silent freak out in my office.

  “Excellent. And I’m at my club most nights this week if you need to get in touch with me. I’ll be there tonight, as a matter of fact. You should check it out, if you’re not busy.”

  “No, thank you,” she declined in front of her boss.

  “Your loss.” He shook hands with Wesley and walked to the door, turning around to give her another message. “I’ll be waiting.” A wink later, he was gone, sucking the air out of the room with him. She read his statement for what it was, ignoring the heat gathered between her legs at his summons to the club that night. Shit just got real.

  ***

  “What happened today, Roman?” She closed the door to his office at the club that evening, trying to control the growing unease she felt as the day wore on. “What were our rules? Rule number three, I believe—what happens here, stays here. Guess what? If I have to represent you, what happens here won’t stay here. And you ambushed me at work.”

  His voice was quiet. “You think I want to ask this of you? I shouldn’t be in this position, but I am. I’m sorry if you’re the best lawyer I know to complete the job because you know what’s at stake. Would I have involved you if I had a choice? No. Did I try and honor your wishes? Yes. Is that an option any longer? No. And I didn’t give you heads-up because I thought you wouldn’t accept the case. There are other things at stake here. Have you thought about what will happen if the list gets out?”

  She had, and every additional scenario made her sicker. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been over it all afternoon. But you knew that,” she jabbed her finger in his face, “and you ambushed me without any consideration of the ethical position you put me in. I had to lie in front of my boss. The boss who particularly dislikes me no less. ”

  “Would you have taken the case?”

  “Yes. Because I know exactly what it means for you and me if the list gets out. I may not have slept with Gina, but my reputation is on the line.”

  She chuckled at the look of surprise on his face. The walls were closing in on her and if she didn’t laugh she’d be crying. “You think I forgot who Gina was? How could I forget anyone who wore such tacky lipstick? But your question is moot because you gave me no choice.”

  “You agreed to the arrangement,” he argued.

  “This could ruin me! Don’t you get it? Everything I’ve worked for could be gone if I’m caught up in this. I’m a lawyer, and I won the last case I needed to before making partner. I am this close,” she held her thumb and forefinger apart for emphasis, “to having it confirmed by my firm. And you can’t guarantee they won’t find out.”

  He shrugged, hands held out in frustration. “They’re not mutually exclusive, Alexandra. You’re kidding yourself if you believe you can just come in here several times a week and pretend like what we have is going to stay here. My club is on the line, and I need you to save it. You walked in on your own accord a couple months ago and begged for a relationship with me. I told you no, but you insisted.”

  She ran her hands through her hair, recognizing the futility of any arguments she had against him. He was right; if he used someone else, there was a greater chance they would lose, and her name would be released along with everyone else.

  “All right.” She nodded. “I’ll help you out. I’ll win your case. But don’t blindside me again.”

  “Perfect.” He reared back in the chair, storming toward her, grabbing her hand and pulling her out his office before she realized what was happening. The club passed in a blur on the way to his room, the thrill at the prospect of being with him after their argument making her wet.

  “Strip,” he ordered, unbuttoning his dress shirt once they reached the room. Not moving fast enough for his tastes, he came over and pulled her to him, kissing her roughly. “I said strip.” She pulled her shirt and bra off, crossing her arms over her breasts so she didn’t feel so exposed. He came to her, unbuckling her jeans and laying her down on the bed. She’d never felt more sheltered in the comfort of his arms than when he lay beside her and pulled her to him. His hands cupped her face, his mouth inches from hers.

  “You’re mine.” She turned away when he tried to kiss her, overcome by the unspoken emotion blazing in his eyes, but his hands tightened on her chin, pulling her back so she watched him. “You. Are. Mine.” He punctuated his statement with a kiss. Her heart blossomed. She’d wanted these words for weeks, and she was fully committed to Roman. She wanted him, and nothing was going to stop her from having him. The lies they told in the dark about maintaining separation threatened to be exposed and for once, she was relieved, since she was so damn sick of lying.

  “I’m yours.” She nodded before his lips slammed over hers. Her nipples hardened when he pinched her breasts. His hands seeming to be everywhere at once. This wasn’t making love; this was sex, pure and simple. He leaned back, unbuckling his belt while she lay there panting. She whimpered when she felt his fingers between her legs, entering her.

  “You’re soaked,” he whispered against the side of her breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple. She tried to press against him, seeking more, but he denied her.

  “Not quite.” He pulled out. “You know the rules. Your orgasms are mine.” He traced his tongue down her stomach, onto her outer thigh, pressing tiny kisses along the way. Her muscles quivered, pleasure running through her while he used her body as he saw fit. He brought her to the brink twice before pulling her back.

  “I get it.” He ignored her statement, moving his mouth to her center and attacking her without abandon. “I get it,” she gasped again, because she needed release. She was in pain, seeking the comfort he kept denying. He was trying to fuck her into submission, letting her know who was boss. Once again, he brought her right to her peak, only to move out of the way. His lips were wet, covered in her juices, and she was done.r />
  “Stop it!” She took a moment when he was distracted to buck her legs into him and roll her hips, causing him to fall back. She put her hands on his chest and straddled him. “How about you just fuck me?” He rolled her back over, and she found herself once again underneath the man who rocked her to her core.

  “Like this?” He entered her without warning. She gripped him, ready to go from their earlier foreplay. This was another battle in their never-ending war, and Alexandra and Roman fought for every inch they could. He plunged in and out of her, taking everything she had and then coming back for more. She matched him stroke for stroke, hands and mouths gliding over whatever body part they could find. He pounded into her until she saw stars, then screamed his name when she found her release. A couple more strokes and he followed, emptying himself. She lay on top of him in post-orgasmic bliss.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Roman mused, breaking the silence. “I’d give one hundred dollars to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  “You don’t need one hundred. I was thinking about my job. I can’t lose it, it’s all I have.”

  Rubbing her back, Alexandra was comforted by the sound of his heartbeat underneath her ear. If she could stay here forever she would. “It’s not all you have.”

  She propped herself up on her hands so she could look in his eyes while she said her next statement. Her heart was in her throat when she made her confession. “I know. I broke rule number five.”

  His hands cupped her face, tilting her face up to kiss her. “I fell for you too.”

  18

  “I got this,” Alexandra whispered to Corey. She put her hand on his knee, because his shaking leg was distracting. His calm demeanor earlier masked nerves tapping a rhythm beside her when the owner of the pizza parlor, the same man who identified him, took the stand. The district attorney took him through all the basics about the crime: what happened, what he saw, and whether the person was in the courtroom. He pointed to Corey, as she knew he would, but she was ready for this.

  “Your witness.” The DA smirked, as though his testimony scared Alexandra. She stood up, straightening her shirt, approaching Leo Dominic.

  “Mr. Dominic, you testified the person who robbed you is here in this courtroom, correct?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “It was that boy.” Alexandra looked over at her client, smiling, trying to convey an outward calm when inside she was buzzing with excitement.

  “Did you know my client before this happened?” she asked, turning back to the elderly Italian with white hair.

  “He used to come in all the time and get pizza,” he answered, looking over at the defense table again. “I used to love having him come. He was so respectful.”

  “Respectful, you say?”

  “Very respectful,” he agreed. This was his stage, and he threw his arms out like he was born to act. “Until he robbed me.”

  “Right, you told us. You didn’t actually identify him in person, did you?”

  “No.” Confusion showed on his face when he shook his head. “I picked him out on the paper they showed me.”

  “I saw. Note the witness is referring to prosecution’s Exhibit F, the photo lineup.” She walked back over to her desk, grabbing the lineup that made her want to jump for joy, and put it down on the space in front of him. “Is this your signature above his picture?” Trembling hands grabbed the paper while he examined it.

  “Yes, it is. Like I told the detective, he’s the one.” He jabbed the paper with his finger.

  “Is there anything different about this picture than the person who robbed your store? For example, were there any tattoos?” His eyes darted in the courtroom, and she followed his gaze. Detective Trajeo. The lead detective on the case, the one who gave her the runaround when she called him earlier. Interesting piece of information she would file away for later, but not her concern right then.

  “No. He’s the guy who robbed my store and tried to kill me.” His eyes watered, and he took a handkerchief yellowed with age from his pocket, wiping his face before blowing what sounded like an air horn coming out of his nose. Tread carefully.

  “So, for the record, you are saying there were no identifying marks or tattoos on the person who robbed your store.”

  “No. It was this guy.” He shook the paper with his identification for all to see. “I saw him. He had on the black baggy T-shirt and the black ball cap pulled down, but I saw him.”

  She ignored his last statement, since it was no longer important. She got what she needed from him, and she was going to be able to set her client free. “I would like to enter defense Exhibit J into evidence, a post and picture from Corey Davis’s Facebook page.” She clicked on the remote so her newest piece of evidence was shown, a picture of Corey beside his tattoo artist, showing his neck tattoo. Thank God for social media, she thought, it gave the time when the picture was taken, weeks before the robbery.

  “Thank G for this sweet piece,” it read, with a grinning Corey and the tattoo she thought made him a criminal for all the world to see. The true irony wasn’t lost on her, but she’d savor the victory after she finished with the lying witness.

  “Are you telling me,” she stood beside the projector, pointing at his neck, “you didn’t notice a tattoo that said ‘Thug Life’ from the person robbing you? The person you knew because he would come in your pizza parlor all the time and order the same thing?”

  “Well,” he sputtered, “I mean. He must have gotten it afterward.”

  “No, he didn’t.” She pointed at the date. “He got it a month before your store was robbed. Which is it? Did he have a tattoo, or not?” He bit his lip, glancing toward the audience where she knew the detective was sitting.

  “I identified him.” He shook the paper.

  “From a driver’s license picture that’s two years old. My client didn’t rob your store, did he?” she bandied back, not giving him any downtime.

  “He did,” Mr. Dominic insisted, but his voice wasn’t as strong.

  She had him where she wanted him, but wanted to give him one more time before she went in for the kill. “When you consider Exhibit F, then Exhibit J, are you stating under oath, that Corey Davis is the man who robbed your store?”

  “Yes.” Mr. Dominic picked up the water pitcher but his hand shook so bad he couldn’t pour himself a glass.

  “How much does your pizzeria take in a month?” She changed subjects and Mr. Dominic couldn’t keep up, opening and closing his mouth several times without response. She felt no remorse, he’d continued to lie when his hesitation showed he knew more about the situation.

  “Objection. Relevance?” The prosecutor stood with his hands perched on the desk, lips in a thin line. No longer smirking, looking like he’d swallowed nails instead.

  The judge cocked his head at her, and Alexandra held her hands up. “I’m getting to it, I promise.”

  “You’re on thin ice,” he warned.

  “Mr. Dominic?” She turned back to the witness, but he was left flummoxed.

  “I forgot the question.”

  She smiled to reassure him before pulling her ace out of the hole. “How much does your restaurant make in a month?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “After expenses, about $5,000.”

  “So, you have enough to pay your personal bills, but not an overabundance of money in the bank.”

  He pinched his lip, shaking his head.

  “You need to answer the question aloud for the record.” If looks could kill, she’d be dead. The daggers he sent her in his expression only reinforced her need to continue the line of questioning. He reached up, straightening his tie before leaning into the microphone. He glanced over her shoulder again before he answered, “No.”

  “Then how do you explain the used Skeeter Boats ZX 170 worth $20,000 you bought two weeks after the robbery?” She picked up the next piece of evidence she had, the receipt from the boating company and a picture of him standing in front of the fishing boat smiling lik
e a loon. “It says here you paid cash.”

  “I was saving for that boat,” he tried to explain.

  “I guess it’s just a coincidence you had the money the week after you identified my client as the person who robbed you.” She shrugged like it was a mystery that needed solving. Mr. Dominic’s face grew red while he fidgeted in his seat. Good. After everything he’d put her client through, he deserved to sit in the hot seat.

  “Is there a question?” the DA snarled from his seat. Alexandra winked at him, loving the animosity.

  “There was.” She refocused her attention on the witness sound. “Where did you get the money for the boat? You admitted you don’t make enough money for high-end purchases, so who gave you the money?”

  His gaze slid toward the detective, again, but his eyes widened. She turned toward the gallery to watch the detective leaving. Nothing abnormal about it, but given all the facts surrounding this case, she wanted to see him. Since the main prosecution’s witness continued to stare at the detective while she was cross-examining him, Detective Trajeo moved to the top of her list of people to talk to.

  “Answer the question,” the judge prodded. Mr. Dominic shut down, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

  “I’d like to plead the fifth.”

  “I told you to answer the question.”

  “With all due respect, sir, I’d like to exercise my Fifth Amendment right to no self-incrimination.”

  The judge lay into Mr. Dominic, and in the end threatened to arrest him for contempt of court. Alexandra didn’t want to see a sixty-eight-year-old man be lead away in handcuffs, but it didn’t come to that extreme. She dismissed him; the damage had been done, and she wasn’t surprised when he left as soon as he got off the stand. She approached Corey, who’d been slack-jawed as he watched the spectacle.

  “What does this mean?” He had to shout in her ear over the noise of the people filing out of the courtroom, clamoring with what happened with the prosecution’s witness. Talia had moved to his side, rubbing her hand over the baby.