Kalina was laughing as they stepped through the glass doors. She was beginning to like Melanie Keys.
“So you said Mr. Reynolds wanted to know when I was hired?” She had moved right to the counter, reaching up to open a cabinet to look for the mugs.
“Here, they’re in this one,” Mel said, opening another cabinet and taking down a cup. When she offered it to Kalina, she tilted her head as if studying her. “I’ve been here for ten years so I know my way around.”
“This is my first law-firm job.”
“Really? Where’d you work before now?”
Kalina didn’t even blink before saying, “An accounting firm in Baltimore. I just moved to DC about six months ago. Needed a change of scenery, you know.”
Mel nodded. “I understand. I wish I could get away. I’ve been here all my life, my family’s here, my job. God, my mom would freak if I even mentioned moving to another state and taking the kids.”
Now Kalina did falter. She could lie smoothly when it was a surface lie, something she’d memorized from the file the DEA had given her. But Mel’s mention of family, of roots was something else altogether. She sort of had roots here in DC; the Department of Social Services downtown was the one that placed her with each of her foster parents. That meant she belonged here, right?
“That’s nice you have a family.” Clearing her throat, she tried again to focus. “You don’t look old enough to have kids with an s,” she said with a smile as she dipped the decaffeinated tea bag in and out of her hot water.
Mel had already poured her coffee and was holding the sugar dispenser over it while a steady stream of white emptied into her cup. Kalina liked her tea the same way. It made her smile to have something in common with someone.
“Twins, Matthew and Madison, eight years old, beautiful at birth, terrors as toddlers, and now more than a handful in elementary. Jonathan’s thirteen—cell phone, Facebook, and girls, that’s all he’s thinking about right now. And Addy, a gorgeous sixteen-year-old, plays field hockey like a pro but can’t grasp algebra to save her life.” She stopped pouring, setting the sugar down with a clunk. “Pete and I’ve been married for twenty-two years, high school sweethearts. You? Kids? A man? I don’t see a ring,” she noted, lifting a dark eyebrow.
Kalina’s chest clenched. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one pumping Mel for information? This wasn’t about her, not on a personal level. It couldn’t be. Besides, the answer she had to this question, honestly, was dismal at best.
“No kids. No man.” She shrugged. “No time.”
“Well, you can’t be dedicated to your work. Especially not here. Even though I hear Dan’s brutal to work for.” Mel seemed to go from one subject to another without much effort, which was a relief to Kalina.
After adding her own sugar to her tea, Kalina lifted her mug to take a test sip. The warm liquid filled her like an empty container. She blinked, trying not to think of how pitiful it was that a cup of hot tea and trivial conversation with a co-worker could make her feel just a little more complete.
“He’s been okay so far. What’s Mr. Reynolds like to work for? He seems a bit rigid.” As rigid and unyielding as a pit bull.
“Oh.” Mel waved a hand, her silver charm bracelet dangling on her left arm. “He’s all right once you get used to him and his moods. I’ve been with him long enough to know exactly how to deal with him. Today, for example, he has depositions all morning; they’ll break for lunch and he’ll close himself up in his office. Then, if the morning sessions haven’t completed, he’ll go back into the conference room and chew the other attorney’s ass out a little more. Then he’ll return to his office where he’ll brood until about six, then he’ll go home. Now, tomorrow—” Mel kept right on talking as they walked toward the door, mugs in hand.
“Tomorrow is Friday. He has this big gala to go to at the Linden Hotel. The cleaners already called about his tux being ready. I’ll pick that up at lunch today.”
“Does he like going to political parties?” It hadn’t slipped Kalina’s mind that Roman could be shielded by some higher-up in the US government, hence explaining why they hadn’t been able to pin anything on him up to this point. Besides, that was the name of the game here in DC—I wash your back, you wash mine. It would be no surprise if there was a contact or two in government helping him. “Does he usually take a date?”
Mel stopped. Her head tilted again in that way that Kalina was beginning to realize meant she had questions coming. “Are you interested in him? Of course you are,” she answered herself. “Every woman with eyes is hot for Rome. But let me give you a piece of advice, he doesn’t like timid women. So if you want him, go for it. Don’t dilly-dally around. Just make your move.”
They were back at Kalina’s cubicle by this time so she stopped, looked at Melanie Keys, and admitted she liked the woman. “I won’t be making any move. He’s not my type. I just remember seeing articles in the paper about his very active love life.”
“Lies,” Mel said quickly then sipped her coffee. “They print what they want, what they think’ll sell papers. He’s actually very discreet in who he dates and when. Hey, let’s do lunch. There’s a great sandwich place on Pennsylvania and it’s near the dry cleaners.”
Lunch with Mel. She’d probably talk about her kids, her latest PTA meeting, soccer practice, or something else … normal. Kalina warmed a bit but she wasn’t sure if it was from the tea or the prospect. “Sure. Lunch sounds fine.”
“Meet you at the elevator at one. I like to go later—makes the afternoon pass quicker.”
Kalina nodded. “Me, too.”
“Be good till then,” Mel said, tossing her a smile and walking away.
Be good, Kalina thought, taking a seat. How could spying on a man and using the nicest woman she’d ever met be good?
The next afternoon, Rome felt like a stalker. Sort of, but not really. He was on his own property, doing something that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary for an employer. There was no law stating he couldn’t walk around his office, take a tour of what he’d created.
If he stopped in the accounting department, just a couple of feet away from the cubicle occupied by his firm’s newest and sexiest employee, well, that was just coincidence.
He heard her voice just seconds after he picked up her scent. A scent he figured he might just be a little addicted to, even though he hadn’t smelled it personally for a couple of years. He still remembered, as if it were yesterday, the first time she’d been close to him, close enough for him to feel a part of her reaching out to him.
“You could back up off me just a little, you know,” she was saying, and Rome’s protective instincts quickly kicked in. Surely no one in his employ was giving her a hard time. If so, he’d definitely deal with them. Despite their little encounter in his office the other night, or possibly because of it, he wanted to make sure he kept her in close proximity this time.
He took a step closer to the cubicle, ready to intervene and reprimand if necessary. But she continued.
“I’d be a lot better off if you’d stop calling every five minutes and let me do my job.”
So she was on the phone, he surmised since the conversation seemed one-sided. He moved closer, the ammonia-like scent of hostility permeating his senses. Whoever she was talking to, she didn’t much care for.
“Fine! Just don’t call me back again.”
Her words were terse, and she really meant them. As he turned the corner of the cubicle they were face- to-face and she wasn’t happy to see him.
“Boyfriend problems?” he said without hesitation.
She didn’t seem startled, only more agitated. “Creeping around the office after hours doesn’t seem like your style,” she quipped.
“No. That would be more your arena, right?” was his reply and her brow furrowed. He’d made her angrier, which really wasn’t his intention. Hell, Rome had no idea what his intentions were where this woman was concerned. What he knew for certain was that he didn’t want another confrontation. It was obvious they were attracted to each other, and from experience it was a lot easier to act on an attraction when you weren’t biting each other’s heads off every time you were together.
So he inhaled slowly, thought about the situation another second, then said, “Is everything okay?” He eyed the cell phone she was slipping in her purse as she stood.
“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “Just dandy.”
