interest. She was giving him the play-by-play of a case she found most challenging. He’d just finished telling her about his most peculiar client –a woman who’d been attacked by five pet ferrets her roommate kept illegally.
Yasmine had interesting stories to tell. Criminal law was her specialty, and she seemed to enjoy rolling about in the filth of the guilty and remorseless, working diligently to clear those unjustly prosecuted, and defending the guilty as sin, but believed redeemable, at least in her eyes. He imagined she saw him as fitting into the latter category.
“And when I tell you the media hounded her, they did. Relentlessly.” She continued with the tale, giving seedy details about a high profile case she’d handled that had made it to national news. He vaguely recalled it. A Chicago woman had been accused of murdering her husband, but it was later ruled to have been natural causes by the medical examiner. The couple had been in the middle of a divorce, and since it hadn’t been finalized yet, his family feared she would be found not guilty and inherit her husband’s wealth. The family had cried a million tears; not for their father, but for the money they would never touch. Appeals went nowhere. Life was not fair, so sad, too bad.
They passed a fountain. Florescent streams of vibrant colors burst from the water as it moved and swayed to music like aquatic dancers.
“This is nice, but you know what? It’s a skating rink in the winter.” He unlinked their hands to point at the display. “Have you seen it that time of year?”
“Yeah. I’ve been on it, too.”
“Oh, you like ice, huh? Roger that. Duly noted.” He chuckled when she playfully slapped him on the shoulder.
“It’s gorgeous on Christmas Eve with all the lights, music, and smiling faces… especially the kids. They even sell hot chocolate and cinnamon donuts, so nice. Can you ice skate, Nixon?”
“Nope.” His lack of desire to do such a thing was written all over his face.
“Were you ever curious to learn?”
“Not on your life. Not my thing.” They resumed their stroll.
“What? You think it’s not a macho thing to do? It offends your masculine sensibilities?” she jabbed.
He raised his arm in the air and spun her around like cotton candy spinning in a wheel drum. All he could see was the beauty of her soul, a flurry of long black hair whirling in the wind, and an ivory, shimmery jacket hugging her body as she moved like a ballerina, around and around. He caught her during the fourth spin, making her stop short like the planet on its axis. Looking deeply into her eyes, he held her and kissed her, surrendering to his desire. The warmth of her soft body against him, the feel of her mouth made him get that strange feeling again…
The one that caught in his throat like a pill sliding down the wrong way. He’d tried to deny what was happening, starting from that night at The Cage, but then he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The scent of his desire for her had hung in the air, week after week… perfuming his mind with memories of her. He simply had to have her.
She haunted him, but he no longer feared her ghost. In fact, he embraced her spirit as it gripped his, choking his uncertainties in a violent embrace.
I’m fallin’ for her… I really am.
As if reading his mind, she looked deep into his eyes, searching. He could smell the spices from their dinner on her breath, mingling with her sweet fragrance.
“The two months is up. It ended some time ago. I know I wasn’t supposed to announce it, but I am, because I gave myself permission to start loving you.” She said the words with her chin held high, and his heart throbbed within his chest. Her eyes grew brighter, her full lips curled in a beautiful, confident smile. He kissed her again, then snuggled his head between her shoulder and neck, etching that moment in his brain for all eternity. He took in the sounds around them. The hustle and bustle of people and cars, the faint music drifting from nearby eateries and taverns. Then the odors of cigarette smoke, the wind carrying it along with the promise of a new day. Then the gritty, intoxicating vibe of the city, with the stench of diesel and the allure of dark dreams.
He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, then ran his