Undisclosed Desires

Every
morning, he arrived. Every morning Grace told herself she didn’t deliberately
come to work early and position herself at her assistant’s workstation just so
she could watch him stride through the hall, the track lights illuminating him
like a runway model. He—Antonio Romero, with his sleek black hair, hazel
brown eyes and buff body that no suit could disguise. Not that she was obsessed
or anything. Of course not.

And
, she
thought,
it’s perfectly natural that
Antonio should arrive
. After all, he was an associate attorney in this law
firm, just like her. It would be odd if he didn’t come to work. His arrival
certainly didn’t constitute an event. Nevertheless, here she stood, pretending
to proofread a letter, her eyes darting to the hall with alarming frequency so
as not to miss his entrance.

“Here he comes,” Larry Carson announced,
sauntering over to the grouping of workstation pods at the center of the
office. “Hold on to your panties, ladies. We wouldn’t want them to fly off and
into his path.”

Then Antonio appeared. So sublime. His
lips, nose, hair, eyes, smile. They all played a starring role in her
fantasies.

“Romero the Romeo.” Larry’s lips curled in
a sneer.

One of the secretaries tittered behind her
hand. At Grace’s quelling glare, she coughed and turned her attention back to
her keyboard and computer screen.

“Shush it, Larry,” Grace said, turning to
her colleague.

“Why shouldn’t I tell the truth?” he
asked. “It’s sickening how you all fawn over him.”

“Jealousy doesn’t become you,” Grace
admonished. Of course nothing did become Larry, in Grace’s opinion. He could
have been attractive, but the combination of kiss-ass smarminess toward the
higher-ups and the obnoxiously condescending comments he made to everyone else
made him an ugly little troll. “Don’t take your total lack of female admirers
out on Antonio.”

“Defending your buddy?” Larry asked with a
snide arch to his brows. “Typical, Baker. But why?” Then he lifted a finger and
placed it to the side of his lips. “I know. You two are buds with benefits…if
you know what I mean.” He chuckled.

Buds, but not with any extras. She and
Antonio were strictly on a no
-
benefits
basis. There had been that one time… But he didn’t seem to remember it, and she
didn’t want to.

“But sex is all it will ever be, Baker.
You won’t get a commitment out of the Romeo.” He sidled up to Grace and touched
a finger to her wrist, giving it a suggestive caress. “Why don’t you try
passing your favors around to someone who would appreciate them? Someone like
me.”

Grace jerked her hand away and stepped
back. “As an associate with this firm, you should know the laws on sexual
harassment,” she said. “And if you make one more innuendo about Antonio or any
further suggestive comments to me, I’ll make a report to HR about you creating
a hostile workplace, and then where will your partnership aspirations be, eh?”

Larry glared at her, turned on his heel
and headed into his office, which, unfortunately, was right next to hers.
“Bitch,” he muttered, and then slammed the door closed behind him.

Of course, Larry seemed to be a favorite
with the senior partner. Grace would probably be the one fired if she made a
complaint. While Larry got great high-profile, second-chair placements, she was
the dumping ground for every non-paying client and stinking pustule of a case.
Antonio also scored great cases, but then he deserved success. A brilliant mind
coupled with great courtroom technique set him apart from the rest. That was
just the way of it.

When he spotted Grace, Antonio’s stride
slowed and he smiled. Grace waved hello, but then turned and rushed back into
her office. She didn’t feel up to a friendly conversation with him this morning
when the sparring with Larry had brought to the surface all the longings she
had tried so hard to suppress.

When she got to her desk, she took a few
moments to get her feelings under control before she signed on to email.
Unfortunately, the object of her lascivious thoughts had sent her a message. It
read—
Round 22 of chicken joke wars
is declared. Finnegan’s @ 7 p.m. Loser buys the beer. Antonio.
Grace smiled
at his silliness. Making up their own chicken jokes was a running thing between
them. Hitting reply, she typed in—
You’re
on
. But then her finger hovered on the mouse above the send button. She
loved hanging with Antonio, but lately the pain had begun to outweigh the
pleasure. Grace wasn’t feeling very strong. After a few seconds of indecision,
she hit delete.

* * * * *

A brief knock sounded on Grace’s office
door. Without waiting for an invitation, the door swung open and a dark head
came around the edge of the frame.

“Are we having fun yet?” Antonio asked,
and then stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He took in Grace, the
paralegal and the pile of paper littering the table in front of them. “Pretty
strange party favors you have there.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” Grace plastered a
mock frown on her face. “I don’t have time. We have billable hours to rack up.”
She pointed at the paralegal.

Antonio nodded. “Hi, Deb.”

“Antonio,” Deb said, her voice at least an
octave huskier than normal. Grace glared at her, and the paralegal hid a smile
behind her hand.

“Are you working on the Nelson case?” he
asked.

“You know it.” She sighed. “It’s always
the Nelson case these days.”

“You didn’t answer my email about
tonight,” he said to Grace. “Are you coming?”

“I don’t know.” She examined the piles on
her desk. “It’s a workday tomorrow and I should stay late.”

“Come on,” he said with a cajoling smile.
“I need cheering up. I broke up with Susie yesterday.”

“Yeah, you look terribly upset about it.”

“I am. I am.” He laughed. “I just hide my feelings
well.” He picked up a paperweight from the corner of her desk and tossed it up
in the air with one hand before catching it with the other. Then he added a
second. Then a third.

“Will you stop juggling my paperweights?”
Grace asked, trying to sound stern. “You’re gonna break them.” But he was so
good at everything. She doubted he would drop one.

“Only if you’ll come out and play
tonight,” he said, continuing to juggle.

“Ummm.” She hesitated. There didn’t seem
to be a way out without an embarrassing explanation. “Oh. All right.”

After catching each of the small orbs, he
set the weights down carefully on the desk. “Why did the chicken hire a private
investigator?” Antonio asked with a sly smile. “Because she suspected the
rooster was clucking around on her.” Then he winked.

Grace smirked. “Save your ammunition for
tonight,” she teased. “You’ll need it.”

Antonio ducked out of the office, and his
laughter could be heard from down the hall.

“Are you feeling like a cannibal today?”
Deb asked, tapping her pen against the legal pad in front of her.

“Huh?”

“You were eating that man alive with your
eyes.”

“What?” she asked, coming out of her
Antonio-induced trance. “Oh, I get it. You’re a real comedian.”

“I don’t blame you. That man is
fine
. I just think you should tell him
how you feel. This buddy act thing the two of you have going is unnatural. You
should be fucking his brains out.”

Tried
that and it didn’t work out
, Grace thought. “You’re crazy. We’re just
friends.”

“Hmm…Friends.” Deb sucked the end of her
pen. “If you weren’t such a chicken, you would tell him you lust for him.”

“First a cannibal and now a chicken. Make
up your mind.”

“It’s true. You’re afraid.”

Afraid to lose the friendship she and
Antonio did have by trying for the impossible.

“I don’t exactly look like his typical
girlfriend.” Grace glanced down at herself. She would never have made such an
admission except that Deb was a friend as well as a colleague. “He dates tall,
blonde and slender.”
I’m medium
,
Grace thought. Medium brown hair, medium height, medium brown eyes…medium
everything. Antonio’s girls were always spectacular.

“Nonsense,” Deb scoffed. “You have a
fantastically curvy figure I’d give my right Manolo Blahnik for.”

“I happen to know you got those shoes for
a steal off eBay so that doesn’t mean much,” Grace said with a crooked smile.
“Anyway, let’s get back to work. The Nelson case awaits.”

* * * * *

“Why did the chicken cross the road to
climb Mount Everest?” Grace asked as she slid onto the barstool next to Antonio
later that night. She had to be loud to be heard over the basketball game and
the buzz of the crowd. Typical Thursday night at Finnegan’s.

“Uh-oh. I know I’m going to regret
asking.” He rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“Because it was there.”

“Ughhhhh. That is so bad,” Antonio groaned.
“That’s definitely not a winner.” He smiled and a crinkle appeared at the edges
of his eyes.

She adored that crinkle. He ran a hand
through his black hair, and the gesture was almost enough to make her salivate.
She wanted to run her fingers through more than just his hair. “Well, if you
have the winner, let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” he said, signaling the bartender
for another beer. “Why did the chicken get out of a car, cross the road and
then get into a taxi?”

She could only shake her head. “Dunno.”

“To get to the other ride.” He chuckled.
“Get it? The car is one ride and—”

“Yeah, I get it,” she said, stifling a
smile…and the urge to lick his scrumptious Adam’s apple. “Cute, but not a
winner. I’ve got the winner. Mount Everest was just the warm-up.” Then she
cleared her throat before starting. “A priest, a chicken and a lawyer go into a
bar.”

“A lawyer.” He laughed and took a sip from
the bottle. “I like it already.”

“When they get inside the door, the
bartender stops them, points and says, ‘Get out, buddy. Nothing fowl is allowed
in the bar.’ Then the priest speaks up and says, ‘It’s okay. He’s a good guy.
The chicken and I will vouch for him.’”

A laugh burst from him. “Slightly better
but still horrible.”

“You know it’s the winner. You laughed.”

“Only to humor you.”

“You? Humor me?” Grace regarded him with
narrowed eyes and lips pursed to prevent a smile. “You’re such a liar. I’m the
one doing you the favor. It’s a lot of work coming up with these high-quality
jokes just to amuse you.”

“Why?” he asked, punctuating the question
with an overdramatic wave of his hands. “Oh, why are you so good to me?”

“Because you’re incredibly sexy and I
crave your body.” Grace delivered the line in a monotone.

Antonio stared at her, and she kept her
face carefully deadpan as he scrutinized her with the strangest expression on
his face. After a few seconds, he chuckled. “You win,” he said, slapping both
hands on the edge of the bar. “I’m buying tonight.”

“Good,” she said. “‘Cause I should still
be at work on the Nelson case. Instead, I’m here with you.”

“Why don’t you settle that Nelson
stinker?”

“Our esteemed senior partner doesn’t want
a settlement.”

“That’s ’cause he’s making
you
try it,” Antonio said. “He doesn’t
have to deal with a loser. But he also doesn’t want to lose the billable hours
from a trial.”