9th Precinct
“For Fitzhugh.” He didn't sound happy about it either.
“You the attorney?” It wasn't a question so much as just the thing the bored head behind the dirty precinct window asked while he slid a clipboard under the window slot.
“Apparently.” He clearly wasn't happy about it.
It got so quiet that the scratching of his name on the cheap grade government paper was audible across the room.
“You got I.D., pal?”
An exasperated sigh. “You know me by name, Marty.”
“I still need your I.D., bud.”
The attorney shifted around in his wrinkled suit. Obviously dressed in a hurry. He patted his breast pocket, flipped open his suit coat and checked more thoroughly, and then his patted his pants pockets. He was grumbling what sounded like fuck words.
The women watching were sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs against the wall. “This place smells like a urinal.” Maeve complained as she fished around in her clutch for a compact, her hand brushed up against the small revolver she carried for personal protection. She checked her complexion. Perfect as usual. She was doing her best to look casual.
“I suppose our friend should stop getting arrested then.” Julianna murmured. Displeased. She popped her gum in her mouth. She switched her crossed legs. The red velvet heel she wore bobbed as her leg bounced impatiently
“I don't see why you had to come down here. It's risky, Jules.” Her nerves were tearing her apart from the inside. It was a wonder that her worry lines hadn't creased her foundation. She pressed powder over her forehead.
“God that suit is awful.” Julianna interrupted her fussy companion, gesturing at the man at the window.
“Huh?” Maeve asked as she reapplied another layer of red on her lower lip. She gazed over the edge of her compact at the ruffled looking attorney. “Clearance rack.”
“Um hmm.” Julianna agreed and popped her gum again. The man turned to the side to set down his briefcase to continue a more thorough search of his pockets for his wallet. She caught a glimpse of his profile. Set jaw, chiseled cheeks, a strong nose. She hummed thoughtfully. “Kinda cute though.”
Maeve looked up from her compact. It was too late. His back was too them. “I missed it.”
Julianna pursed her lips and cocked her head. His briefcase now on the floor looked like it belonged to an executive Ken doll in compared to him. Albeit a cheap executive Ken doll. He was big. “How tall do you think he is?”
Maeve clicked her compact shut and huffed. “I don't know Julianna. Who cares. You're not going to fuck that clearance rack suit wearing pro bono state lawyer boy. I mean Christ look at his shoes.”
Julianna pouted at the blonde. She had a point, his shoes were awful. Scuffed and they didn't match his suit. Where did he learn to dress? “He's like a shelter puppy.”
“No. He is not “
Julianna stood up suddenly.
Shit, she is in a real mood. Maeve grabbed her wrist. “ What are you doing.”
Julianna jerked her wrist away and marched up behind the man re-claiming his wallet at the window. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. She was just going to wing it.
The bored man behind the window was saying, “He’ll take you on back.”
“I know how this works, Marty.”
The lawyer was vaguely aware of an approaching clip clop of heels but he paid it no mind until, when he turned around, he ran right into a woman.
Julianna purposely bumped into him. Rammed him really. And, in the confusion, lifted his wallet right from his pocket. Her heart hammered in her chest while she waited the long split second to see if he or anyone else noticed what she did. But his phone had fallen out of his hand and landed with a sickening shatter on the ground. There was no better cover than that. Her hand crept around her back and she deposited the wallet safely into her butt pocket.
“Fuck.” He sounded seriously pained like he had stubbed own his toe. “There's a concept called personal space.” His hand drew an invisible plane of space between their bodies.
It had been a minute since she lifted something like that. Still got it. She gloated to herself in her mind. She wondered if her face looked gloat-y. She did her best to keep it innocent but she felt her lip twitch. Was she smirking? She couldn’t tell. She repeated the word neutral in her mind like a mantra and stared at him hoping it would work.
“Look around,” he was saying while she sized him up, “who's cutting you in line at three A.M. at this precinct? You could clip clop yourself a few paces back and I promise you'd still be next in line.”
He was fiesty. So like a lawyer. His eyes were a meteorologist's textbook definition of overcast. She wanted to lead him around by his cheap, crooked tie. Maybe she'd rather have him tie up her hands and dress her down like that while she tried to come on his knee. He'd made a real pretty picture to look at for a fun game like that. Not with that fucking tie. And not in that fucking suit. She popped her gum in her mouth and did her best to look innocent.
He bent and picked up his phone. “Oh fuck me.”
Gladly.
“That's just great.” He displayed his ruined phone.
Julianna stared at her distorted reflection in his shattered screen. She took the phone right from his hand and ran her thumb over the damage. “Oh darn.”
He was so taken aback that she just took his phone that he stood there speechless. The confusion gave him a moment to actually notice the woman who ruined his phone. All of his attention was brought to the hint of shimmer that shifted light around right between her breasts that were framed by a slinky silk camisole and lace trim. She looked wildly out of place standing on stained linoleum under anemic lights and mildewy ceilings.
“Looks like you need a new phone.” She shoved it back at him. Her breasts shifted around freely under her top.
He drew his eyes away from her breasts to her eyes. Electric green with heavy cat eyeliner. The same light catching shimmer on the top of her cheek bone.
“I'm real sorry.” She said as she gazed at him out of the top of her eyes. She boldly tucked his phone for him into the interior of his suit pocket.
She seemed anything but sorry.
“Hey bud, you coming?” A police officer asked from where he was holding open a heavy door waiting to escort the lawyer to his client.
Julianna's gaze flicked to the police officer and she shuffled slightly to the right. The lawyer's bulk easily blocked her entire body from view of the officer. He was a brick wall of a man. Why clearance rack suits and late night pro bono calls? He could do so much better.
The lawyer picked up his briefcase. “Yeah. I'm coming.” He gave her a deadly look. Glittery tits or not she broke his fucking phone.
Her jaw worked quickly as she chewed her gum and she wiggled sharp coffin-shaped nails at him. A cute finger wave to send him off. First to get him a new suit.
Maeve looked downright pissed when Julianna bounced back into the chair that reminded her too much of the sixth grade. Mean teachers and hormonal preteens. Did the school donate their shittiest chairs to the police force or some shit?
“Why. The. Fuck. Did you lift his wallet?” She breathed into Julianna's ear.
“Shh. I'm looking.” Jules flipped open the wallet. It was some awful material. Not even pleather. What is this even made of? And what happened to it? It felt so cheap she thought it would melt the tips of her fingers off. “Why is it so misshapen?” She was flopping it around like a dead fish.
Maeve slapped her hand over the wallet and glanced around discreetly to see if anyone noticed them playing with a man's wallet that clearly didn't belong to them. Julianna's impulsivity left her brittly tense. She would be cleaning up whatever mess her boss was making. “He probably washed it.” She said in a hushed voice.
“Bingo.” Julianna said as she pulled out his driver's license. “Owen. Hart.” She flicked his face with his back of her nail. Of course he would be the type not to smile for an I.D. She liked that. No nonsense. No fucks given about a social convention to smile for a picture. Hair: Blonde. Eyes: Blue. Mmm, no. They're grey. Height: six foot four. “Six four.” She showed the I.D. to Maeve and tapped her nail on his height.
“It could be a lie. They just ask you how tall you are.”
“No, he's definitely that tall.” Without heels she thought she would be eye level with his badly done windsor knot.
"Jules, who cares? Where is this going?" Now Maeve was whining. Pleading really.
“Just let me enjoy this.” Things were complicated. Her life, her business had gotten so big it felt like it was crushing her sometimes. She thought that's what those collapsing stars must feel. Immense inward pressure. She needed release for once. Let the steam valve open. Jules tossed the I.D. into Maeve's lap. “Pull him up.” She ordered and crossed her legs again.
Oh so now she wants to act like the boss? Maeve grumbled incoherently under her breath but pulled out her phone and began typing. Then she dumped her phone into Julianna's lap when she had several tabs about him open. “He’s only on Twitter. Teaches logic and argumentation to the pre-law infants at the university. Has some legal analysis write-up about some criminal reform bill in the New York Times.”
“How wholesome.” Julianna muttered as she scrolled through his latest Tweets. Her nail clicked against the screen when she switched tabs. She squealed when she saw the picture.
Maeve growled. “Keep it down.”
“Omigod look at him.” Julianna showed Maeve his faculty picture on the college website. It was one of those so typical they were almost parody type school pictures. A close up. His hand hovered near his split chin. Eyes looking like grey marbles. “Do you think his students call him doctor?”
“It needs one of those 80s laser backgrounds.” Was all the commentary Maeve allowed herself to give.
“Yes. That is everything.” Julianna agreed emphatically and giggled.
Maeve leaned back in her chair and elegantly rubbed her temple. Her head was throbbing.
“Look at him.” Julianna was practically squealing again.
“I see him.” Maeve said not unlike a mother whose patience had run out with her toddler. Julianna had found a new puppy. There was nothing to be done but buy a leash and a squeak toy and clean up the piles of shit until it was potty trained or ran away or got hit by a car. Maeve could maybe have him hit by a car if she wanted. She dare not cross Jules though. “I'll have the boys confirm his address.”
“Perfect. He needs a new suit. And new shoes.”
“What about his phone.”
Julianna rolled her eyes as if considering it. She wrinkled her nose. “Mmm. Suit first.”
“You're criminal.”
Julianna gave Maeve a wicked smile.
She was nothing but criminal.
She thought about the casino she'd recently bought and filled with criminal employees to launder the endless monthly multi-millions she made with her sprawling black market enterprise. It would be useful to have another attorney on her side. It wouldn't hurt that he was cute either. Maybe he could help their hapless associate so recently picked up at this very precinct.
“Let's go.” She said suddenly. The walls of the police station suddenly felt like they were closing in on her. It wasn't fun anymore to brazenly sit there in the police station. She was too close to the cages she lived to avoid. She'd dangled her hand over the fire long enough.
“What about--”
“Sairus will pick him up.”
Maeve nodded. The quixotic adventure bordering on manic insanity was, thankfully, over. “Of course. I'll get the car.”
*****
He was over arguing with the delivery boy. "I didn't order any suits."
"You're Dr. Owen Hart, right? Associate professor of law?" The delivery boy read-off his name clearly annoyed with the self-important man who ordered suits with his entire credentials on the name for delivery line.
Owen gestured wildly. "Yes. I said. That's me. But I didn't -"
"Please sign here, sir."
Owen huffed and signed his name feeling entirely ridiculous as he looked at the delivery order. Dr. Owen Hart, Associate Professor of Law. Seriously? He threw the suits in their expensive wrapping on his ratty couch.
This was obviously some kind of joke, right?
He posted a Tweet accusing his students of playing a very expensive prank on him. There was an accompanying selfie of him in one of the suit jackets. He told the prankster he was keeping them.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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