“And what then? I can gaze at him from afar over a pitcher of beer?”
“You can flirt with him. Maybe you could get something going that way.”
“Because you know that picking up a guy in a bar is the best way to start a healthy romantic relationship. I’m not looking for a one-nighter Jess.”
“You don't have to go home with him. Just flirt with him and see what happens.”
“Just flirt with him and see what happens – those are famous last words if I ever heard them.”
CHAPTER THREE
O’Malley’s managed to seem upscale and still feel like the fun dive bar that every lawyer everywhere had hung out in when they were in law school. There was a large old-fashioned, central bar area, surrounded by tables lining the walls. When the place started filling up and the jukebox was playing, people tended to crowd into the open space between the bar and the tables to socialize and dance.
We had just walked in, and were navigating through the crowd, when we passed near a table surrounded by prosecutors laughing and drinking. We were en route to a table surrounded by public defenders laughing and drinking. After a week in the criminal justice system, laughing and drinking were necessary components for maintaining one's sanity. We had almost passed the prosecutors’ table when I heard Mr. Roth call out.
“Well if it isn't Ms. Albright and Ms. Ginsberg!” We paused and moved in closer to them. My stomach started contortions that would have made the U.S. Diving Team proud when I saw Braden sitting there, leaning back in his chair with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie and collar loose. You could sell postcards of that sight, baby.
“Hello, Mr. Roth,” Jess called out above the noise. “Drowning your sorrows?”
“Celebrating my victories, Ms. Albright. Perhaps you don’t recall my impressive courtroom performance earlier?” Mr. Roth was also a very handsome guy but in a different way than Mr. Pierce. Braden was a golden boy but Adam had dark good looks – dark hair, brown eyes, and always just a touch of five o’clock shadow. He was one of those guys who always looked like he may have come directly to work from some woman’s bed. And in Adam’s case that was a definite possibility.
“Someone catch me. I'm going to swoon,” I shouted dryly. And one can actually shout dryly – trust me. Mr. Roth needed to occasionally have a woman fail to worship him and I was happy to oblige.
“Such a saucy mouth on this girl,” he said with a laugh, looking over at Braden. Their colleagues paused in their revelries to pay attention to this little exchange. Two attractive public defender women had ventured close to a table full of semi-drunk male prosecutors. That didn't happen every day. It was like one of those scenes from a wildlife documentary. You know, the ones where the baby gazelle decides to drink from the nice cool stream right next to the pride of hungry lions.
“You think I have a saucy mouth huh?” I decided that now was as good a time as any if I wanted to try my hand at some flirting. “What do you think of my mouth, Braden?” I asked, turning to him. By some small miracle I actually managed to sound calm and even a bit playful. The guardian angel of the socially awkward was obviously smiling down on me.
“I rather like it,” he answered with a flirtatious smile, as his eyes very obviously dropped to my lips, this time in a practiced way that probably had women dropping their panties for him left and right under other circumstances. I heard some suggestive laughter and there were a few comments from his friends that I didn't quite catch – probably for the best. Dusty Springfield was singing Son of a Preacher Man in the background and it helped to set the saucy mood.
“There you go, Mr. Roth,” I said, as I walked over to stand right in front of him, leaned down, and looked him directly in the eye, our faces inches apart. “Some men can obviously handle my mouth.” Jess let out a startled laugh behind me. I stood up, smiled and started to walk away. After a second of stunned silence, their table erupted into laughter. Wow, I really was kind of saucy wasn't I? I was several feet away when I heard Braden call out and my heart slammed into my chest wall.
“Hey Gabrielle!” I turned around and quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. He gave a devastatingly sexy smile and then said loudly enough to be heard over the crowd, “I can handle your sharp tongue too!” More raucous laughter echoed around him and I dug down deep and found courage that could only be developed after three years of exposure to sadists who enjoyed destroying self-confidence (law professors.)
“Behave or I’ll make you prove it!” I called back loudly, smiling as if I had issued a challenge, and then I turned back around and kept walking. Mercifully, I didn't trip over anything. That one went over very well at the prosecutors’ table, incidentally. I thought for a minute that they were going to either give me a standing ovation or start shoving dollar bills in my stylish but sensible suit skirt. Jess looked over at me with an expression of stunned delight.