Bent not Broken (271 page)

After a few more seconds I heard a loud bang and something shattered, as if glass were thrown across the room. “Fuck!” Marcus yelled.

I quietly rolled back to the desk. When I was safely secured behind the desk I crossed my arms on top of the table and laid my head on my wrists.
What the hell was that about?
Does this mean that Marcus and I can’t be together? Does his brother have so much control over him that all it takes is a mere snapping of his fingers, and Marcus does what he's told?

If that’s the case, then that means we can’t have more than just an employer-employee relationship. Why is it when I finally really like a guy, who makes all my problems and fears go away with a simple kiss or touch, he’s taken away from me? I should be used to having important people taken away from me by now, but no matter how many times it happens, it still hurts.

I spent the next three hours contemplating whether I should go over to his office and let him know everything I heard, or if I should just leave it alone and see what he would do. So far he hadn’t come over to check on me, to go over any files, not even to discuss what my duties would be.

He hadn’t left his office either. I wondered what he was thinking. I kept replaying the conversation between him and his brother over and over in my head, but nothing made sense to me. If everything he said to me over the weekend was true, then he wouldn’t listen to his brother, and we’d continue our relationship, but if he listened to him …

My phone vibrated against the wooden desk. It startled me, and I grabbed it in the hope it was Marcus, but it was only Jeremy.

Jeremy (11:58am): Lunch?

Me (11:58am): Sure, meet u in the lobby in 2 mins?

Jeremy (11:59am): K

I inhaled and exhaled one deep breath before standing up. I grabbed my purse and headed towards the door. It felt like it was going to be a long day. Slowly turning the knob and exiting out the door, I quietly shut it in the hope that he wouldn’t hear me exit. When I turned around, Marcus was walking out of his office too.
Great!
We just stood there looking at each other, confused and anxious with desperate looks between us.

My heart was beating rapidly … He looked so lost. I just wanted to reach out and touch him; instead, I pulled myself together and walked past him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to face him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes were searching mine, trying to find something, his answer? Our relationship? Our feelings for one another? I didn’t know what he was searching for.

I looked down at my elbow that his hand was gently holding and looked back up at him. I yanked away from his grip.

“You tell me.” I couldn’t hold it in. I’m the worst with crap like this.

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you and your brother talking.” He took a few steps back to collect what he just heard.

“What do you mean you heard us talking?”

“You guys were pretty loud, and the conversation came through the walls. I couldn’t hear
everything
, just bits and pieces, but from what I did hear, basically I’m considered an
interruption,
and therefore we cannot be
together
.” Okay, so I lied. I didn’t want him to know that I could hear everything from his office. He’d probably move my desk.

He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. He’s thinking? It seemed like he’d been thinking for the last three hours. “Mia, I’m sorry you had to hear that.” He brought his head back down.

“So what does this mean?” I crossed my arms.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He just stared at me, not saying anything after that comment. It was like he was waiting for me to come up with a solution to our problem.

It pissed me off. “Well, when you figure it out, let me know. I’m meeting Jeremy for lunch.” I turned and walked away, slightly swaying my hips to show him what he’d be missing. I thought he would run after me and ask me to go to lunch with him instead, but he didn’t. It took so much of my willpower not to look back. I didn’t, and I felt like the biggest idiot. Why didn’t I just tell him how I felt? Sometimes my head takes over my heart, and I’m left with unanswered questions.

Jeremy and I decided on a small diner up the block from the building. It was extremely packed, so we had no choice but to sit at the counter. He went on and on about how much he loved the partner he was working with, how
cool
he was, and how much he’d taught him in just the few hours they spent together. I couldn’t help but feel jealous. This was supposed to be my future, my career, and here I was swooning over my boss instead of preparing myself for my future. I have to get my head out of this fantasy and bring myself back to reality.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t touched your salad.” He asked as he dipped a fry into the ketchup he squirted onto the side of his plate then tossed it into his mouth.

“Oh nothing, just not hungry I guess. I was really busy this morning with all the files Marcus gave me that I can’t even think about food.” I lied. I’m starting to get good at this lying stuff. Maybe I should make a career out of it; oh right, I am. Jeremy, of course, was oblivious and popped another fry into his mouth, and then he continued to talk about how awesome his first few hours were. Blah! Blah!

****

When I walked back into “my” office, I saw that Marcus had left a few files on my desk with a typed note that read, “Review each file and the discovery. Each file has a post-it note of what needs to be done. If you have any questions, contact Lisa. Thanks, M.D.”

Great! I guess this means we are strictly off limits. He’s such an
asshole
! He could have at least given them to me in person. So our working relationship will be us avoiding each other and placing work back and forth on our desks. Just awesome! I shook my head and exhaled. Screw it, I’m here to build my resume and gain experience; I might as well get it over with.

The first file I grabbed was labeled
State vs. Johnny Di Angele.
The post-it note required that I review the file and discovery and locate case law similar to this case regarding self-defense. It was a murder case. I pulled the discovery out of the file and began doing what I was told to do.

The Di Angele case was very intriguing. Our client was at a local bar with a friend; they got into an argument. He left the bar alone and began walking home. Another man held our client at gunpoint for his wallet. Our client, when pulling out his wallet, decided to grab his pocket knife instead; he quickly jabbed the knife into the robber who was standing behind him and ran for it. The robber pulled the trigger and shot our client who fell and passed out. There were no witnesses and no surveillance cameras in the area. A nearby neighbor heard the gunshot and called police. When the police arrived at the scene, both our client and the robber were taken to the hospital.

The robber was stabbed in the chest, and he lost too much blood. He was pronounced dead by the time he arrived at the hospital. Our client was treated for his injuries and questioned. After he was interrogated, they arrested him, and he was charged with first-degree murder. The case was dropped down to third-degree murder at the preliminary. There was a jury trial scheduled for the end of next month. I hoped I could sit in on the trial and watch the case unfold; that would be cool. After an hour I had researched a few cases similar to this case, prepared memos, and began working on the next file.

I was so consumed with the research and work I’d done that I didn’t realize the time. I heard a knock at the door and told whoever it was to come in. Jeremy popped his head in.

“Ready to go? It’s after five, and I tried calling you.” I looked around for my phone then realized it was in my purse.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jeremy. Give me two minutes.” I pulled together the files I worked on that day and piled them on top of each other. I shut the computer down, grabbed the work and my things and headed for the door. “I have to put these files in Marcus’ office. I’ll be back.” I knocked on his door. Thankfully he didn’t answer which meant he wasn’t there, so I walked in and placed them on top of his desk with a post-it note that read, “All done. Thanks, M.S.”

This time on our drive back home I was talkative; we were discussing how interesting the criminal law field is. I didn’t mention the case itself, but I did tell him about all the case law I’d researched in self-defense murder cases. The work kept me so busy I didn’t have time to think about Marcus. Now, that I was almost home, and my thoughts weren’t occupied by work, my mind raced back to him. I started thinking about our weekend and how he asked me to give him a chance to trust him and that he wouldn’t hurt me. I’m not one of those girls that are clingy and try every way to get a man’s attention, but I just had to get one thing off my chest before I shut him out emotionally. I grabbed my phone out of my purse and sent him a text.

Me (5:45pm): You asked for a chance, you had your chance. Now it’s gone.

The minute I sent it I wanted to take it back. My heart started pounding when all of his possible reactions to my text came to mind. Would he be angry? Or would he even care? I hated those mind games when two people started dating. Sometimes I wish I could read minds, so that the truth is always put out there. Then I would never have doubts or second guess a person’s facial expression or a comment that I may have taken out of context.

We arrived at the apartment, and I was exhausted. It was my turn to cook that night, and I really didn’t want to. I convinced Jeremy we should have pizza, which was not hard to do since it’s his favorite food. I placed the order and told him to watch out for the door, so I could take a long shower. I ran the shower and tested the temperature. It was still cold, so I walked back into my bedroom to grab a new towel.

I tested the water again; this time it was nice and warm. I hopped in and scrubbed away all of the day’s tension.
Ugh
, what am I going to do about DeLuca? If my brother were still alive, he would have been the perfect person to talk to about this. He always gave me great advice about men. I told him about everything—well everything
minus
my sex life; that would’ve been too awkward.

I grabbed the shampoo and massaged it into my hair. Afterwards I leaned my head back and allowed the warm water to rinse out the suds. The water felt really good, and my tension was slowly releasing. I massaged conditioner in my hair, and I lathered the body wash one more time on every inch of my body.

Cutting the shower off, I walked out onto the tile floor. Heading towards the bathroom sink, I started my nightly routine: brushing my teeth, flossing, and untangling my hair. For my final touch of the day, I rubbed night cream on my face and neck. I tightened the towel wrapped around me and opened the bathroom door. My eyes popped out of my head when I saw Marcus sitting on my bed, staring at me.

“W-what are … H-how did?” I stuttered, not able to complete a question.

“Jeremy told me you were taking a shower. I asked if it would be okay to wait in here.” I was frozen, but managed to step out of the bathroom and into my room. I couldn’t read his facial expression. His face was smooth; he didn’t look upset, but yet he didn’t look happy. I leaned against the dresser next to me to hold myself up.

“What do you want?”

“I received your text. I came over as soon as I got it.”

“
Oh
?” I gulped in air, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t expect him to fly over here; a simple reply would’ve done.

“Yeah.” His face was still unreadable.

“So?”

“So, I came here to talk in person.”

“So talk.” I instructed while crossing my arms. He lifted his shoulders to sit up straight and moved closer to the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry you heard the conversation between my brother and me. I’m also sorry that I shut you down when you asked me what it meant for us. I’m not usually the caring type, except with my family, yet with you I am, and I’m definitely not the scared type.”

“Scared?” I asked.

“Yes scared, Mia. I’ve known you for only a week now, and I have these suppressed feelings for you. It’s hard for me put it all together. I’ve never felt like this; it makes me feel weak and out of control knowing that I can’t
put
it all together.”

“Are you used to putting everything together?” I asked, dropping my hip and tightening my crossed arms.

“Yes, that’s what I do for a living. I analyze every little piece of evidence until I make sense of it. But with you I
can’t
.” I see where he’s going with this.

“It’s okay. I get it, Marcus. You feel we don’t make sense together.”

“No! You don’t get it. We make
perfect
sense together, but there are so many reasons why we
shouldn’t
be together. I keep trying to go over it in my head, weighing my options on what’s best or what should be done.”

“Best for whom exactly?
You
? Me?
Us
? Or what’s best for your brother?” This visit was starting to piss me off. “It’s really not difficult at all, Marcus. You either want to be with me or you don’t.”

“I
want
to be with you. You know I do. But I
can’t
.”

“So why are you even here? You could’ve simply ignored my text, and I would’ve taken the hint, Marcus.” My hands moved to my hips; I was really getting annoyed. So I did what any woman would do: ripped my towel off and let it drop to the floor.
Okay
, maybe not every woman.

I stood there long enough to show him what he’d be missing. His eyes began to trail up and down to view every inch of my curves. They grew dark with desire. I started to slowly walk towards him, looking straight into his eyes. I was only inches away from his knees, but I didn’t touch him, instead I slightly turned, walked past him and into my closet. I could hear him exhale as I entered the sliding doors.

I knew he was behind me; I could feel him staring. I pretended that he wasn’t there, so I bent over to the lower drawer, knowing damn well my panties and bras were in the top drawer. I roamed through my sweats and shirts. Ah, I grabbed a pair of fitted yoga pants and a white fitted t-shirt. Slowly I put them on with my back facing him.