Conscious Bias

by Alexi Venice

  At class, Monica focused on lunges while holding 20-pound dumbbells in her hands. As if by magnetic pull, however, her eyes were drawn to the cages where Shelby was preparing to do a pullup.

  Her arms extended above her head, Shelby jumped, grasping the bar, her ripped abs exposed below her lavender Lycra tank. A playful smiled tugged at her mouth, and her eyes twinkled from across the room, creating an arc of energy that pierced Monica’s heart. How does she do this to me?

  Monica was like a puppy set loose in the dog park, so excited to interact. Her invisible tail wagging, Monica dropped her dumbbells with a thud and walked to Shelby, who was in a flexed position in her pull-up, her eyes never wavering from Monica’s. With each step, the sexual tension built. When they collided, Monica wrapped her arms around Shelby’s waist while she lowered from her pull-up.

  Shelby giggled, still holding onto the bar.

  Monica wormed her way between Shelby’s knees—her new favorite place on earth—and wrapped her arms around Shelby’s waist. Monica turned her face sideways into Shelby’s tummy, lifting her up a bit to signal that she could bear all of Shelby’s weight.

  She had never embraced a woman as powerful as Shelby, much less held her in the air like she was now, but she felt like she could do anything for the woman she was falling, falling, falling in love with.

  The warmth and strength of Shelby’s body completed Monica’s world. And, the smell of her. So sweet. So feminine. So musky in her sweaty leggings. Shelby released a ton of pheromones that created a hypnotic effect on Monica.

  Shelby let go of the bar and planted her hands on Monica’s shoulders, digging in while holding herself upright.

  Monica shouldered Shelby’s weight and took two steps forward, pushing Shelby’s back into the cinderblock wall. Shelby slid down, so her legs could wrap around Monica’s waist.

  Now they were face-to-face, and Shelby’s giggle dove an octave lower, her twinkling eyes heating to supernovas. Monica knew that look and had come to love it, especially when they were making love.

  Unable to resist, Monica focused on the delicious mole above Shelby’s lip, kissing it lightly. She felt Shelby’s mouth curve into a smile so kissed her again.

  Shelby turned the light kiss into a real one, and Monica felt Shelby’s hands on her neck and back, pulling her close.

  A few whistles flew from people in class, but Monica didn’t care. She was finally out and proud, unleashing her true desires in a public setting, not giving a damn what anyone thought. It felt gloriously liberating. She was drowning in Shelby’s kiss while her spirit soared.

  After their better-than-candy kiss, Monica pulled back and surprised herself by saying, “I love you.” The first to say the L-word, Monica waited expectantly.

  “I know,” Shelby said, running her index finger around Monica’s lips. “Took you long enough to say it.”

  “Not the response I was hoping for,” Monica said.

  “I love you too—”

  “Whew,” Monica said.

  “But you already knew that on a subconscious level, because I’ve been telling you while you’re asleep in my bed.”

  “Huh?” Monica asked.

  “Sometimes, I watch you while you’re sleeping and tell you stuff, including that I love you,” Shelby said.

  “Aw,” Monica said. “That’s so sweet, I don’t even know how to respond.”

  “That you love me too is perfect,” Shelby said.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Monica whispered urgently.

  “I love you too.” Shelby dropped her open mouth to Monica’s deltoid and bit through Monica’s top.

  Monica jumped in response to the sharp sensation. “Did you just bite me?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Naughty girl.”

  Shelby laughed then pushed back, her eyes dancing. “We probably need to get to work now.”

  “Tease.” Monica let go of Shelby’s body. “I’ll miss you today.”

  Shelby slid down the wall. “My place for dinner?”

  “I’ll bring the wine.”

  They walked out together, stole another kiss at Shelby’s car door and went their separate ways.

  An hour later, Monica walked into her law firm—HER LAW FIRM—and greeted Kathy, who was pulling receptionist duty that morning. Kathy was the best at reception because she loved talking to people, and they loved her.

  “Welcome to your firm, Ms. Spade,” Kathy said. “You look positively radiant this morning.”

  Monica blushed. “Thanks.”

  “Someone is in love,” Kathy said, drawing out the “o” in love.

  Monica smiled in spite of herself.

  “Aha!” Kathy said. “I guessed it. Have you told Shelby yet?”

  God, she’s good. “Yes. We’ve said the L word to each other.”

  Kathy clapped her hands. “I’m so happy for you! I better be invited to the wedding!”

  Oh dear. “Neither of us has proposed yet.”

  “You better lock that down. She’s a keeper.”

  Monica was at once overcome with a mixture of joy and embarrassment. She noticed that Kathy was sipping from a glass filled with something red on ice, including a pickle, meat stick, and a square of cheese on a skewer.

  Monica was shocked, so accustomed was she to seeing Kathy drink a cup of coffee spiked with RumChata. “Bloody Mary today?”

  “Virgin Mary,” Kathy said. “There’s a bar set up in the kitchen.

  “As long as they stay virgin, I’m good with it.”

  “That’s what I assumed, but Janet, Cheryl and Sandie wanted da vodka,” Kathy said.

  “Oh really?” Monica said. “Blaming them, huh?”

  Kathy threw up her hands. “I know. They’re rebels. You can trust me, though.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  Kathy chortled. “By the way, Jim is looking for you.”

  “Thanks.” Monica strode down the hall, softly whistling because she was so damn happy. She was in love, and she had her own fucking law firm. Could the world get any better?!

  She knocked on Jim’s open door. “Hey.”

  “Good morning,” he said. “Did you see the news?”

  “No time. Was at the gym.” Kissing my girlfriend! Who loves me!

  “With Shelby, I bet.” He grinned.

  Monica smiled.

  He turned his flat screen, so she could read the headline on WQOD’s website. “POLICE IN THE CAYMAN ISLANDS ARE WORKING CLOSELY WITH THE FBI AND THE MCKNIGHT FAMILY TO LOCATE A MISSING TREVOR MCKNIGHT.”

  “What the…?” Monica breathed.

  She came closer and read aloud. “Trevor McKnight and his friends went to the Cayman Islands two weeks ago for a short vacation. While there, McKnight went missing one night while they were bar hopping. McKnight’s friends don’t recall what time he left the bar, but last saw him talking to a girl on the dance floor. They assumed he spent the night with her. When he didn’t return the next day, they became concerned and contacted Cayman law enforcement. Cayman police contacted the FBI in the United States. While McKnight’s friends returned home, his family flew down to Cayman and have been working with the authorities to locate him. Trevor’s whereabouts remain unknown.”

  “Holy shit,” Monica said. “What do you supposed happened to him?”

  Jim made a cutting motion across his throat. “That, my friend, is Saudi justice.”

  “No…” Monica whispered.

  “I think so,” Jim said. “Remember that discussion we had over drinks at The Spoke?”

  “You’re full of shit,” she scoffed. “The Seif family didn’t come across as violent to me. In the face of hostility, they conducted themselves with grace and humility. Never once did they breathe one bad word about the McKnight family.”

  “Well, they aren’t stupid,” he said. “They’re Saudi elite. Remember the Saudi journalist, Jamal Khashoggi, who was assassinated and dismembered at the Saudi Consulate in Istanbul?”


  Monica rolled her eyes. “Okaay. Let’s not take an isolated incident and impugn all Saudi citizens.”

  “I don’t think I’m stereotyping,” he said. “It’s the way the upper echelon of the King’s court does business.”

  “Now you’re making shit up. I don’t believe you.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. Don’t believe me, but Trevor McKnight isn’t alive. I can guarantee you that. My guess is that he’s at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea somewhere.”

  “We don’t know what happened to him, or where he is. He probably got wasted and ended up on a boat bound for Cuba for all we know,” she said.

  He shook his head in disagreement, as he turned his flat monitor back toward him. “All I’m saying is: be careful who you piss off these days. It’s a small world.”

  “I’ll make a note,” she said.

  ***

  THE END

  ***

  Message from the Author

  If you enjoyed Conscious Bias, I would appreciate your review on Amazon, Goodreads, Kobo, Apple iBooks, Google Books, Barnes & Noble, or your favorite online retailer. Reviews like yours spread the word.

  ***

  If you haven’t tried my San Francisco Mystery Series, I would encourage you to tiptoe into the first book—Bourbon Chase. The other books in that series are: Amanda’s Dragonfly, Stabscotch, Tinted Chapstick and Sativa Strain. All are available through your favorite online book retailer. I hope you, too, fall in love with Tommy, Jen and Amanda.

  ***

  If you want to stay in the loop and up-to-date on my novels and latest news, visit my blog at https://alexiveniceblog.com. You can also catch up with me anytime on my website: https://www.alexivenice.com or my Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/alexivenicenovels

  Happy Reading!

  Alexi

  Acknowledgements

  So, five female lawyers, a nurse and a CrossFit trainer walk into a bar, and the bartender asks, “Is this some kind of joke?”

  Nope, only the beginning of a legal thriller series featuring strong female leads. The women who helped me with this book are: Mik, Erin, Jackie, Laurie, Sherry and Reyka.

  Mik and Erin continue to amaze me with their willingness to listen to my energized ideas about tone, plot and character arcs. I scare them sometimes (with wild ideas), but they agree that writing means taking risks (for me; not them), so we’ve forged new paths together (they’ve watched with amusement). I’m deeply grateful to them for providing guidance (cautionary advice) and reading rough drafts (with raised eyebrows).

  My friend and everyone’s favorite CrossFit trainer, Jackie, kindly edited the CrossFit scenes to make sure I was at least describing the exercises correctly, even though I don’t come close to doing them correctly. All those reps! Who counts?! I’m not a cheater; just a slacker. There’s a difference. Jackie is a patient, kind woman both at the gym and while editing.

  Laurie is a lawyer and new to the team. I’m grateful to her for calling me out on my own unconscious bias—against criminal defense attorneys. Her observations allowed me to strike a more balanced tone, thus adding validity to the trial scenes and its ultimate outcome. She also tightened up a number of evidentiary and testimonial passages that heightened the drama. I hope I did her proud.

  Sherry continues to be not only a true friend but also a steadfast supporter who finds time in her complex life to proofread or edit, whatever I need. I wish I could recruit her full time, but she balances a huge career and busy family, so I’m grateful for whatever nuggets she can give me.

  Many thanks to Reyka for proofreading. Despite her many work obligations, she always manages to squeeze me in.

  Rob Bignell has been invaluable in my writing journey, teaching me tons of rules and stylistic points that I didn’t learn during a legal education and career. He’s bringing me along slowly but surely, and I’m grateful.

  Lastly, I thank Bo Bennett, the founder of eBookIt.com. I worked closely with him on this project, and he was outstanding. The guy can do everything! Thank you, Bo.

  About the Author

  

  Writer * Dog Lover * Biker * Water Enthusiast

  Alexi Venice delights in offering readers the chance to escape the absurdities of our harsh, contemporary reality for the sanity of fiction. Her popular San Francisco Mystery Series is a crime drama that tests the bonds of love and loyalty among Dr. Jen Dawson, Detective Tommy Vietti and District Attorney Amanda Hawthorne.

  Venice's 30-year legal career informs her medical and crime fiction. She also personally researches her adventure scenes, including flying a jet, shooting assault rifles, wake boarding in the Caribbean, testing her strength at CrossFit, doing yoga, and getting the crap beat out of her boxing.

  Venice, who used to live near San Francisco, is married and now spends most of her time in Wisconsin.