“Mia, there’s a call on the line for you, sounds like Mr. DeMonico again,” Katie’s spoke softly, her doll-like features filling up the small crack in the door she’d opened without a sound.
Mia looked up, her long raven’s hair dragging her shoulders and swinging in the space in front of her as her gaze moved to her paralegal. She’d not looked up from the file in front of her for over an hour and the nagging pain in her neck caused her breath to catch in her chest. She covered her full crimson lips with her fist and coughed softly, in a feminine manner and then smiled at Katie.
“Sorry… I was lost in the land of the dead for the last hour. Tell him I’m on another call and will call him back tomorrow. I have plans this evening and if I miss them again, I might have some lawyer reading a file on my murder.” She finished her conversation and looked back at the file, the clock beside her reading eight p.m.
“Give me something, Harold, anything.” She skimmed the statements given in court at the initial hearing and looked at the charts and photos of evidential matter and yet still… nothing.
“Damn,” she muttered and closed the file, running her fingers along her closed eyelids, what remained of her makeup smeared a little, but it would take a bit to make her look anything less than stunning. She stood and slipped the file in her briefcase. The rest of her research could be done at home in front of a fire with a bottle of wine and a deliciously sexy man pressed to her back.
A smile touched her mouth at the thought of him, and she moved a little quicker, slipping on her jacket and waving goodbye to her assistant. She slipped into her Gallardo, pulling out into the darkness of the night, the city lights echoing a party here and there as she turned toward the residential area of Justice. His car wasn’t in the garage yet, but it was best that she’d have a few minutes to herself.
Their hired help greeted her at the door and let her know that dinner would be on the table in forty-five minutes or so and then the rest of the staff would be heading out. She thanked them as she moved about toward her bedroom, slipping off her heels and sighing with relief that the day was over. Being a part of the justice system was more difficult than kicking someone’s ass that was four times her size. She changed into a blue tank top and yoga pants, pulled her long silky hair into a ponytail and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine and picking at a fresh green salad while she thought through the details of DeMonico’s case over and over again.
“Come on, Mia… it’s there. You’re just missing it.” Or was she?