desk, she took a few
moments to get her feelings under control before she signed on to email.
Unfortunately, the object of her lascivious thoughts had sent her a message. It
read— Round 22 of chicken joke wars
is declared. Finnegan’s @ 7 p.m. Loser buys the beer. Antonio. Grace smiled
at his silliness. Making up their own chicken jokes was a running thing between
them. Hitting reply, she typed in— You’re
on . But then her finger hovered on the mouse above the send button. She
loved hanging with Antonio, but lately the pain had begun to outweigh the
pleasure. Grace wasn’t feeling very strong. After a few seconds of indecision,
she hit delete.
* * * * *
A brief knock sounded on Grace’s office
door. Without waiting for an invitation, the door swung open and a dark head
came around the edge of the frame.
“Are we having fun yet?” Antonio asked,
and then stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He took in Grace, the
paralegal and the pile of paper littering the table in front of them. “Pretty
strange party favors you have there.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” Grace plastered a
mock frown on her face. “I don’t have time. We have billable hours to rack up.”
She pointed at the paralegal.
Antonio nodded. “Hi, Deb.”
“Antonio,” Deb said, her voice at least an
octave huskier than normal. Grace glared at her, and the paralegal hid a smile
behind her hand.
“Are you working on the Nelson case?” he
asked.
“You know it.” She sighed. “It’s always
the Nelson case these days.”
“You didn’t answer my email about
tonight,” he said to Grace. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t know.” She examined the piles on
her desk. “It’s a workday tomorrow and I should stay late.”
“Come on,” he said with a cajoling smile.
“I need cheering up. I broke up with Susie yesterday.”
“Yeah, you look terribly upset about it.”
“I am. I am.” He laughed. “I just hide my feelings
well.” He picked up a paperweight from the corner of her desk and tossed it up
in the air with one hand before catching it with the other. Then he added a
second. Then a third.
“Will you stop juggling my paperweights?”
Grace asked, trying to sound stern. “You’re gonna break them.” But he was so
good at everything. She doubted he would drop one.
“Only if you’ll come out and play
tonight,” he said, continuing to juggle.
“Ummm.” She hesitated. There didn’t seem
to be a way out without an embarrassing explanation. “Oh. All right.”
After catching each of the small orbs, he
set the weights down carefully on the desk. “Why did the chicken hire a private
investigator?” Antonio asked with a sly smile. “Because she suspected the
rooster was clucking around on her.” Then he winked.
Grace smirked. “Save your ammunition for
tonight,” she teased. “You’ll need it.”
Antonio ducked out of the office, and his
laughter could be heard from down the hall.
“Are you feeling like a cannibal today?”
Deb asked, tapping her pen against the legal pad in front of her.
“Huh?”
“You were eating that man alive with your
eyes.”
“What?” she asked, coming out of her
Antonio-induced trance. “Oh, I get it. You’re a real comedian.”
“I don’t blame you. That man is fine . I just think you should tell him
how you feel. This buddy act thing the two of you have going is unnatural. You
should be fucking his brains out.”
Tried
that and it didn’t work out , Grace thought. “You’re crazy. We’re just
friends.”
“Hmm…Friends.” Deb sucked the end of her
pen. “If you weren’t such a chicken, you would tell him you lust for him.”
“First a cannibal and now a chicken. Make
up your mind.”
“It’s true. You’re afraid.”
Afraid to lose the friendship she and
Antonio did have by trying for the impossible.
“I don’t exactly look like his typical
girlfriend.” Grace glanced down at herself. She would never have made such an
admission except that
moments to get her feelings under control before she signed on to email.
Unfortunately, the object of her lascivious thoughts had sent her a message. It
read— Round 22 of chicken joke wars
is declared. Finnegan’s @ 7 p.m. Loser buys the beer. Antonio. Grace smiled
at his silliness. Making up their own chicken jokes was a running thing between
them. Hitting reply, she typed in— You’re
on . But then her finger hovered on the mouse above the send button. She
loved hanging with Antonio, but lately the pain had begun to outweigh the
pleasure. Grace wasn’t feeling very strong. After a few seconds of indecision,
she hit delete.
* * * * *
A brief knock sounded on Grace’s office
door. Without waiting for an invitation, the door swung open and a dark head
came around the edge of the frame.
“Are we having fun yet?” Antonio asked,
and then stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He took in Grace, the
paralegal and the pile of paper littering the table in front of them. “Pretty
strange party favors you have there.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” Grace plastered a
mock frown on her face. “I don’t have time. We have billable hours to rack up.”
She pointed at the paralegal.
Antonio nodded. “Hi, Deb.”
“Antonio,” Deb said, her voice at least an
octave huskier than normal. Grace glared at her, and the paralegal hid a smile
behind her hand.
“Are you working on the Nelson case?” he
asked.
“You know it.” She sighed. “It’s always
the Nelson case these days.”
“You didn’t answer my email about
tonight,” he said to Grace. “Are you coming?”
“I don’t know.” She examined the piles on
her desk. “It’s a workday tomorrow and I should stay late.”
“Come on,” he said with a cajoling smile.
“I need cheering up. I broke up with Susie yesterday.”
“Yeah, you look terribly upset about it.”
“I am. I am.” He laughed. “I just hide my feelings
well.” He picked up a paperweight from the corner of her desk and tossed it up
in the air with one hand before catching it with the other. Then he added a
second. Then a third.
“Will you stop juggling my paperweights?”
Grace asked, trying to sound stern. “You’re gonna break them.” But he was so
good at everything. She doubted he would drop one.
“Only if you’ll come out and play
tonight,” he said, continuing to juggle.
“Ummm.” She hesitated. There didn’t seem
to be a way out without an embarrassing explanation. “Oh. All right.”
After catching each of the small orbs, he
set the weights down carefully on the desk. “Why did the chicken hire a private
investigator?” Antonio asked with a sly smile. “Because she suspected the
rooster was clucking around on her.” Then he winked.
Grace smirked. “Save your ammunition for
tonight,” she teased. “You’ll need it.”
Antonio ducked out of the office, and his
laughter could be heard from down the hall.
“Are you feeling like a cannibal today?”
Deb asked, tapping her pen against the legal pad in front of her.
“Huh?”
“You were eating that man alive with your
eyes.”
“What?” she asked, coming out of her
Antonio-induced trance. “Oh, I get it. You’re a real comedian.”
“I don’t blame you. That man is fine . I just think you should tell him
how you feel. This buddy act thing the two of you have going is unnatural. You
should be fucking his brains out.”
Tried
that and it didn’t work out , Grace thought. “You’re crazy. We’re just
friends.”
“Hmm…Friends.” Deb sucked the end of her
pen. “If you weren’t such a chicken, you would tell him you lust for him.”
“First a cannibal and now a chicken. Make
up your mind.”
“It’s true. You’re afraid.”
Afraid to lose the friendship she and
Antonio did have by trying for the impossible.
“I don’t exactly look like his typical
girlfriend.” Grace glanced down at herself. She would never have made such an
admission except that
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