Discretion

by Allison Leotta

  She sat back and looked at him in surprise. He would normally fight to keep a Sex Crimes prosecutor off his investigation.

  “I don’t want to get this case just because we’re dating,” she said.

  “You have sex-offense expertise. I could use that on this case.”

  One part of Anna wanted to jump at the chance to stay on the case. She’d had a rocky start at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, when she’d dated a public defender who had ended up on the opposite side of a homicide case. After the ensuing scandal, she felt a deep need to show that she could run a major investigation smoothly and professionally. A case of this significance was exactly the type of challenge she’d been hoping for. It was a chance to earn the respect of her colleagues.

  But there were dangers to working that closely with Jack. Although he was in the office leadership and had ten years more experience than Anna, he normally didn’t supervise her; she reported to Carla. Jack was on a different floor, working on different cases. But if they worked the case together, he would clearly be the boss. It would be difficult to be equals in their personal relationship while she was his subordinate at the office.

  For an instant, she wondered if he was deliberately trying to create that power dynamic. You’ll have to do a better job of listening to me, he’d said.

  Jack must have sensed her hesitation. “I’m asking you to work on this case because I need you.”

  Anna studied his face. His eyes were sincere. She felt small for harboring unkind thoughts. She took his hand, held it palm up, and traced its lines. After a long streak of bad-boy boyfriends, Jack was the first really good man she’d ever fallen for. They’d been dating for five months and were at the end of the euphoric stage and the beginning of the how-is-this-really-going-to-work-on-an-everyday-basis stage. Unlike her usual dating MO, her attraction to Jack had deepened gradually, as she got to know him. He was kind, generous, and strong, a great father, an incredible lawyer. She didn’t want to mess this up. She knew that refusing the case would hurt his feelings.

  There was also the issue of keeping their relationship a secret. The flip side of Anna’s need to prove herself in the office by doing good work was her need not to be the center of another gossip frenzy about her personal life.

  “People will see us together,” she said. “They’ll talk.”

  “Let them. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Let’s stop hiding. It’s time.” He gently squeezed her hand and nodded to the coffee table, where a small blue vase held a bunch of lavender sprigs from his garden. “I’d like to be able to send flowers to where you spend your days.”

  When they’d first started dating, he’d sent a dozen roses to her office: eleven pink and one red. His note read, “In every bunch, one stands out. You’re the one.” Anna hid the flowers under her desk so no one would ask who sent them. When she brought them home that night, she thanked Jack, then asked him not to send her flowers at the office. Now he made bouquets from the flowers in his garden and gave them to her at his house.

  “I love the flowers you give me here,” she said. “And I’m not ready to go public.”

  “I don’t mean take out an ad in the Post. Just tell a few close friends. Let it be known that we’re dating. Stop the ridiculous cloak-and-dagger stuff. I’ve been saying this for a while now.”

  Anna shook her head. Jack didn’t understand. If a police officer saw him kissing her in a stairwell, that would just add to his status. She, on the other hand, would permanently shift from being a prosecutor to a pinup. It was hard enough, as a young woman, to be taken seriously. Anna was still stinging from the scandal last year. She couldn’t be ground zero of another gossip explosion.

  “I can’t, Jack. I need to prove myself as a prosecutor.”

  “Does that mean you can’t date? You’re a lawyer, not a nun.”

  “If people knew we were dating, they’d see me as the little hussy sleeping with the boss.”

  “No, Anna. This is the real thing, not some cheap affair. We shouldn’t sneak around like it’s something to be ashamed of. People will be happy for us.”

  “They won’t. You’ll be a stud. I’ll be ‘sleeping her way to the top.’ I’ll be completely trivialized.”

  “I think it’s a mistake.” Jack sighed. “But I know how important it is to you. We’ll keep it under wraps. Will you work the case with me?”

  The fact was, Anna really wanted the case. The stakes were high. If the case went well, it could make her career; but if it went badly, it would be a public humiliation. But there was a larger reason she wanted the case. She couldn’t get the image of Caroline McBride out of her head. She felt a visceral need to find out who had killed the young woman and bring that person to justice. Despite all her reservations, she couldn’t turn it down.

  She smiled at him. “I’m in.”

  “Great.” The smile he returned was steady and warm. “We make a good team.”

  Anna was relieved that the negotiation was over. Debates were an inescapable part of a two-lawyer relationship. Often, she and Jack enjoyed them. But she didn’t want to debate whether to keep their relationship secret. It was too important; she couldn’t appreciate the verbal tug-of-war. And tonight, more than usual, she needed the comfort of his body, not the challenge of his intellect. She took his hand and led him up the stairs.

  They passed Olivia’s room, dark and quiet. Her door was cracked, and Anna could see the little girl was asleep, her thumb resting on the pillow near her open mouth. An orange tabby named Raffles was curled at Olivia’s feet. The cat was Anna’s—she’d adopted the stray a couple of years ago. Now that Anna was spending so much time at Jack’s house, he’d invited the cat to move in. Olivia had been pleased about this development, if nothing else. Raffles raised his head and meowed to Anna, then let his orange eyes slide shut again.

  Anna’s gaze lingered, as it always did, on a framed picture hanging in the hallway by Olivia’s room. A studio portrait of Jack and his late wife, Nina Flores, holding the infant Olivia between them. They were a beautiful family. Jack’s wife had been a police officer, killed in the line of duty four years ago. He rarely spoke about it. But Nina’s presence was everywhere in the house.

  Unlike Jack’s spartan office, his bedroom was decorated with cheer and warmth. The walls were cherry red, the bed was covered in a colorful quilt, and the golden oak floors were softened with a sisal rug. Anna guessed his wife had been responsible for the decor. In this room, though, there were no pictures of her.

  Anna locked the door and turned to Jack with a smile. She pulled his T-shirt over his head, appreciating the sight of his bare chest in the moonlight. Wearing just jeans, he reminded Anna of the guy from the Old Spice commercial. She pushed him back onto the bed. He let her, cooperating with a widening grin. He watched as she pulled off her suit and shirt and threw them on a chair.

  She pushed him back onto the pillows, straddled his waist, and savored the sight of him beneath her, all sinewy muscles and dark copper skin. He seemed to appreciate his view, too, skimming his hands over her thighs as their eyes met. She lowered her face until it was an inch from his. His breath was tinged with the peppermint that grew outside the house.

  His lips were soft, his hands confident as they traveled the length of her back. Her whole body warmed and melted. She felt his breathing quicken and his heartbeat accelerate with hers. The rest of their clothes were quickly shucked aside. She stretched herself out on top of him, ran her hands down his body, and guided him inside her. There was no place in the world she’d rather be.

  Her mind had been racing all day, processing tragedy and law and strategy and politics. All of that was eclipsed by the sensation of his long body beneath her. She let the analytical side of her brain give way to blissful emotion, the sweet release of feeling without thought.

  Monday

  8

  Mornings were trickier than nights at Jack’s house. At night, Anna and Jack were just a couple, the simplest group
in human relations. In the morning, Olivia woke up. Then it was clear that Anna was an addendum to a pre-made family, an addition whose status was uncertain and not necessarily welcome.

  Jack’s kitchen was cheerful and sunny, with a colorful tiled back-splash, large windows overlooking a big backyard, and a fridge covered in first-grade artwork. It was a pleasant place to make breakfast, but recently, it had become a battleground of sorts as Anna tried to win the heart and mind of the local population: Jack’s six-year-old daughter.

  Anna was standing over a pan of scrambled eggs when Olivia came downstairs. The little girl looked adorable, dressed in a purple T-shirt and khaki shorts embroidered with flowers. She had caramel skin and her father’s green eyes. Her wavy black hair was pulled back into two neat pigtails.

  “Good morning!” Anna said. “I made you breakfast.”

  Olivia glared into the frying pan. “I hate scrambled eggs.”

  Anna had seen the girl devour a cheddar omelette last weekend. “Hm. How about I add cheese?”

  “Yuck.”

  “I could toast you a waffle?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Okay, you name it.”

  “I’ll wait for my daddy to make me breakfast.”

  Anna kept the smile pasted on her face. She felt a sudden longing for the peace of her own apartment, where she could just listen to Matt Lauer bantering with Ann Curry as she got ready for work. Anna loved curling up with Jack at night. But she wished she had a clue how to win over his stubborn first-grader in the morning.

  Things hadn’t always been tense between her and Olivia. When Anna was someone who stopped by occasionally, Olivia seemed to love her. But as Anna’s relationship with Jack grew from friendship to romance, Olivia withdrew. The little girl understood that there was someone who was becoming almost as important to her father as she was. She didn’t like it.

  Anna wondered if her transition into the Bailey family had been too fast. The first time she spent the night, Anna snuck in and out of the house so Olivia wouldn’t know she’d slept over. If Anna had a daughter of her own, she wouldn’t want the child to see new men staying the night. But Jack insisted on frankness in his family. If Anna was staying over, he said, Olivia had a right to know. Anna was surprised that he wanted to integrate her so quickly into Olivia’s life. Although Anna loved Jack, she wasn’t confident that the relationship would be permanent. Her own childhood had taught her to be skeptical about long-term romance. She hadn’t found the words to broach that with him. It seemed too cruel to say: “Are you sure you want me to stay over? Because Olivia will be confused if and when we break up.”

  Anna wanted things to work out with Jack, but she hedged her bets. A month ago, he’d asked her to move in. The offer was, in some ways, a technicality, since she spent most nights here. She demurred and kept her apartment in the city. The rent was ridiculous, especially for a place she didn’t use. But it was like keeping a life raft strapped to the side of a yacht.

  Anna looked at the pan of eggs, then back at Olivia. She could hear Jack upstairs in the shower. They would need to leave for court soon. There was no time for him to make a whole separate breakfast for Olivia after he got dressed. Anna had never thought that winning over a first-grader would be so challenging. She wished her own mother were alive to give her pointers.

  “Tell you what,” Anna said. “We can make anything you want. And you can make something for your dad, too. We’ll surprise him.”

  Olivia was fascinated by kitchen gadgets but not allowed to cook on her own. She narrowed her eyes, considering what was more important: defying Anna or using the toaster.

  “Okay,” Olivia said.

  Anna watched as the little girl toasted three slices of bread and grabbed ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. Olivia covered the toast with peanut butter, then bologna, then honey, then crushed some Fruity Pebbles on top. “For crunch.”

  Anna considered, then decided against trying to guide the creation. You had to pick your fights.

  “Your breakfast,” Olivia said, handing Anna one of the gooey slices of toast.

  Was that a peace offering? The toast looked disgusting, but Anna couldn’t turn down the chance to make the little girl happy. She took a bite. Her teeth sank through the layers of sugared cereal, honey, bologna, peanut butter, then toast. Each clung to the roof of her mouth, adding a new layer of horrible. After chewing for a long time, Anna managed to swallow the bite and suck the gooey bits from between her teeth.

  “Delicious,” she pronounced.

  “Have some more,” Olivia said, sliding into her chair at the kitchen table.

  Anna put the concoctions on three plates and sat down at the table. She stared at the toast, and the toast seemed to stare back at her, mocking her with glittering honey dripping off floppy pink lunch meat. All she wanted was a granola bar. Olivia sat next to her, watching expectantly. Anna took a swig of coffee, braced herself, and took a bite, then another. With a concerted effort to override her tastebuds, Anna ate the entire piece.

  When she was done, Anna smiled at Olivia. “Thanks for my breakfast!” She looked at the colorful blob still sitting on the little girl’s plate. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

  “Of course not. It looks terrible. I’ll just have a granola bar.”

  Olivia trotted out of the room just as Jack came in. He surveyed the mess and grinned at Anna. “For a woman who’s so formidable in court, you certainly are a pushover with Olivia.”

  “The difference is, I want Olivia to like me.”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips, but he didn’t claim that—somewhere deep inside, perhaps—Olivia really did like her. Anna appreciated that Jack was honest.

  “Why don’t we stay at my place tonight?” Anna ventured.

  He shook his head. “You know how hard it is to find an overnight sitter.”

  Anna nodded. Jack was ten years older; he had a child, a mortgage, a firmly established schedule. She wished there was a way to integrate him into her life, but there was always a reason why it didn’t work. If Anna wanted to be in this relationship, she had to become part of his life.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, running gentle fingers through her hair. She usually wore it in a ponytail but had blown it out this morning. It looked sleek and professional, tucked behind her ears and falling just below her shoulders. She wore her best black pantsuit and a double-stranded necklace of big silver links. Usually, the necklace felt too dressy, but today she hoped it gave her an air of gravitas. She was nervous about the hearing. Looking the part helped her feel the part.

  “Thanks.” She glanced at him appreciatively. He struck a tall, impressive figure in his charcoal-gray suit. His smoothly shaved head lent a hint of street tough to his otherwise Brooks Brothers aura. She remembered how intimidating he seemed when they first met a year and a half ago. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

  Jack smiled and grabbed a couple of granola bars from the cupboard. He offered one to Anna, but she shook her head, feeling a bit green from Olivia’s toast. She threw some cat food into Raffles’s bowl. The tabby streaked into the room and purred as Anna scratched behind his ears. He’d put on a lot of weight since his days as a bony neighborhood stray. Anna liked seeing his striped orange fur plumped up with feline paunch.

  Olivia came back into the kitchen, wearing her Crocs and the Princess and the Frog backpack. She held a sprig of peppermint from the garden. Jack knelt down so she could put the mint inside his suit jacket, next to his handkerchief. This was their daily ritual. He liked to chew the leaves throughout the day.

  Anna would leave now and take the Metro to work. Jack would wait until Olivia’s nanny, Luisa, came to take over. Anna preferred arriving separately at the office anyway.

  “Now clear your plates from the table,” he said to Olivia. “And give Anna a hug goodbye.”

  Anna shook her head subtly at Jack. The more he pushed Olivia toward her, the more the little girl pulled away. But he smile
d with tender confidence. He was accustomed to being in charge and determined to orchestrate the relationship his way.

  Olivia rolled her eyes, brought a plate to the sink, and reluctantly patted Anna on the back. Anna’s arms went up to embrace the little girl, but Olivia ducked away.

  Anna hoped she’d have a more receptive audience in the courthouse.

  Ninety minutes later, Anna and Jack walked into a courtroom in D.C.’s federal District Court. They wore dark suits, towed wheeled briefcases, and kept a respectable distance between them. They were two serious prosecutors heading into battle. Anna hoped no one could guess that a few hours ago, they’d been making love.

  She tried not to feel overwhelmed by the courtroom. It was designed to impress, with soaring ceilings, marble floors, and a huge bench from which the judge could peer down at the players. A giant metal medallion of an eagle was mounted on the wall above the judge’s bench. This wasn’t where Anna, as a sex-crimes prosecutor, usually tried cases; the vast majority of her cases belonged in D.C. Superior Court, the local courthouse next door. But because the crime had taken place at the U.S. Capitol, the prosecutors had the option of bringing it in federal court. They’d jumped on it. Federal courthouses were less crowded, federal facilities were nicer, federal judges had more time to think about cases. The lawyers who practiced in federal court had a more genteel reputation. Nevertheless, Anna knew this was going to be a street fight as fierce as any in Superior Court.

  Daniel Davenport sat at the defense table, surrounded by a team of suits, eight in total. Junior partners, associates, and paralegals, Anna guessed. She and Jack were starting off at a disadvantage.

  Jack looked unfazed. He nodded at the defense lawyers and said good morning as he passed them. She did the same.

  Aside from Davenport’s lawyers, the courtroom was surprisingly empty. The hearing had been docketed as an emergency late last night; it hadn’t gone through the computer system that reporters and court followers checked.