“And you don’t have to be such a bitch,” he barks back.
I whip around, stunned. The huddled group disperses to the rows of desks occupying the center of the law library. No one bothers to glance my way, not even Burton. It’s as if I don’t even matter, and he’d never called me what he did.
If I report him, it’ll come down to my word against his. That much is clear given how they’re all now back at their stations, pretending the past several minutes never occurred.
My voice quivers from anger, and from the humiliation heating my body. “I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me, Burton. I’ll make a note of it in case it happens again.” It’s my way of warning him that I’m documenting this incident in case his behavior continues, but of course, he doesn’t care.
He lifts his head from his work and smiles. “I’m sorry, Contessa. Did you say something?”
Angry tears burn my eyes. You asshole.
His smile vanishes. Not because of me, or because he realizes he’s being a monstrous prick, but because of who he sees approaching.
The door to the library opens and DA Fenske walks in, his status and presence drawing everyone’s attention, and rescuing me in more ways than one. “Hello, sir,” we all say at once, because that’s the type of respect this man evokes.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he says, smiling. “Contessa, may I see you a moment? It’s with regard to the Montenegro case.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.” I reach for my iPad and purse, trying to collect myself.
DA Fenske opens the door to allow me through and I rush forward. I smile when he joins me in the hall, thankful to be leaving the law library. “I truly appreciate this opportunity, sir,” I say. “I’ve already begun to prepare the deposition and have requested the case files from the records department.”
“Excellent, Contessa.” He nods to several staff members as we proceed down the hall. Some are renowned attorneys, some hold modest clerical positions. Yet Miles Fenske greets everyone by name while managing to stay on task. “I’m sure you’ll be a tremendous asset to Declan. However, as you may know, Montenegro’s reputation is one of extreme violence. While we think he’ll ignore you given your minor role in the case, we’d like to assign you after-hours police supervision.”
I trip in my alligator loafers. DA Fenske manages to steady me, although the action clearly causes him pain. He releases me slowly, pressing a hand to his side.
My attention travels from his hand to his face. “Sir, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
He lowers his hand and continues forward, forcing a smile. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just an old football injury acting up.”
Based on his hunched posture and strained expression, I don’t believe him, but I don’t dare press. We cut right, past the Homicide Unit and down the row of cubicles, as I carefully gather my words.
“Sir, my apologies, but did you say I would be assigned a police escort?”
DA Fenske adjusts the button to his suit jacket, graciously appearing to miss my grimace. “Correct,” he answers. “While we believe Declan will be Montenegro’s sole focus, Declan feels it would be in your best interest to have protection in case Montenegro becomes aware of your presence and misinterprets your role.”
I clutch my iPad tightly against my chest, not wanting to believe this is happening. Don’t I have enough people watching my every move? “And if I refuse, sir?”
DA Fenske stops a few feet from Declan’s closed office door. Although I’d tried to keep my tone casual, I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking. “Then another law clerk will take your place.”
Unlike my voice, his is firm, making it clear this matter isn’t up for negotiation.