When Lines Get Tangled

"Would you please have Courtney White come to my office?"

"Of course," she replied over the intercom.

I hoped I kept the look of alarm off of my face. A minute or two later, she knocked on the door and entered. She seemed a touch surprised to see me already seated. She sat in the chair next to me.

"Courtney, how's your search going?" he asked, markedly more jovially than his tone with me had been.

I noticed her cautious gaze alternate between him and me a few times.

"It's okay. I've briefed him," Marvin said.

No he had not. I was baffled.

"Oh," she said with a touch of apparent relief. "I've narrowed it down to two firms."

"Which ones?"

"The first is Ferris and Richards," she answered.

My blood ran cold. At that very point in time, I was arguing a case against one of their clients.

"The other?"

"McAvoy and Associates."

My blood rewarmed and quickly began to boil because that firm was one of only a few to which I'd lost major litigation to.

"Peter, what are your opinions of those practices?" Marvin asked.

I stammered. "Sir … I don't underst⁠—"

He chuckled. "It's an easy question."

I couldn't form a coherent response. My confusion had to have been evident in the air.

"Courtney, explain why you're mentioning those two firms."

"I'm considering bringing a malpractice suit against Saint Paul Hospital in Indianapolis."

"You⁠—you're what ?"

"Remember when I told you a while back that my mother passed away? I've seen enough stuff during my career to know where there's yellow flags, so I tried to get all of her medical records and the transcript from the morbidity and mortality review, but the hospital was claiming some HIPAA crap and was dragging its feet. I was beginning to wonder if they were hiding something.

"Mr. Estes was kind enough to force their hand with a subpoena duces tecum because the statute of limitations on malpractice claims will be expiring soon. He reviewed my initial work. He agreed that my suspicions were well-founded, but he thought it'd be best if his firm doesn't represent me in a personal matter because a negative outcome could cause resentment. I agreed."

I stared at them both before I asked Courtney, "Why didn't you tell me you were consider⁠—"

"Peter, with all due respect," Marvin interrupted, "I was concerned, given the close relationship between you two, that you might act impulsively as happened with your bizarre complaint filed against the woman who saved your sister's life. I suggested she keep it between her and me until she chose a firm to represent her and her family."

"Marvin recommended several local firms with multi-jurisdictional law licenses which can practice in Indiana courts," Courtney continued, "and was kind enough to sift through several trials this firm has managed. I used them to form consulting strategies. Of course, I kept it all to myself, but the look under the covers was invaluable.

"Some of the documents I was given were your playbooks on a couple of tough cases, and I was able to use all of it to craft my own 'what if' questions to ask other attorneys. So, what do you think?"

"Ferris and Richards … McAvoy … they're excellent practices. Now, if you'll excuse me," I said before I ducked out of the office for the men's room because I suddenly felt like I was about to vomit.

After I did, I splashed cold water on my face and fled in embarrassed dismay.

"You're right, Peter," Candy said. "You're a massive idiot ."

"Jeez. Thanks , sis."

"Does she know what you were doing?"

"No. Of course not. Not unless Marvin Estes told her after I bailed."

"How long has it been since the two of you have spent any meaningful time together?"

"Other than in Marvin's office an hour ago? A couple of weeks."

We have to talk. Tonight. I'm on my way to your house. If you're slow-fading me because of something I've done to you, you're going to tell me in person. Not by text or phone. I'll be there in an hour or tell me right now why you can't be there.

I groaned out loud when I read the message, then I handed Candace my phone so she could see what Courtney had sent.

"I told you to just ask her, and now this? You're not only an idiot, Peter, you're being a douchebag . You'd better fix it!"

"Whoa ! Who do you think you are telling me what to⁠—"

"Shut your face before you say something you regret. I'm your sister for crying out loud! If you don't come clean to that woman, you'll be throwing something away you'll never get back! She's a beautiful person and you deserve someone like her. You told me the same thing after you got to know Kelley, and you were absolutely right. Now I'm telling you ."

"How on Earth can I admit to her that I was assuming the worst?"

"I don't know. You're better at choosing your words than anyone. All I know is that you have to. If she breaks it off with you as a result, it's her choice. And if you don't, you'll be living with a guilty conscience that'll weigh on you forever."

OK. I'll be there. I responded to the text I'd received two minutes earlier.

"This is a no-win situation."

Candy shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

I kissed my sister's cheek and departed for home where I considered putting away all the kitchen knives. Just in case.

It was unusual by that point for her to ring the doorbell. She knew I didn't mind if she let herself in, so when it rang, I looked through the peephole, surprised it was her. I opened the door.

"Talk , Peter. I'm kind of at my wits' end trying to figure out what I've done to make you so distant. I thought we'd become really close. I mean, especially after I slept in there," she said, pointing down the hallway to my open bedroom door. "Then, all of a sudden, poof  ! We've barely spoken at all, and I honestly don't think it has anything to do with your sister. So, tell me. What have I done to wrong you?"

Given how fast and energetically she was speaking, it took me a moment to parse everything she'd said. I steeled myself because I knew I couldn't lie to her anymore.

"Honestly? Nothing, Courtney."

She scoffed. "You could've fooled me. I've gone from being your girlfriend to persona non grata in a heartbeat. Jesus. When you bailed out of the office a few hours ago, the receptionist said you looked like your hair was on fire, and Giovanni said he heard you upchucking in the men's room. So don't you dare stand there and lie to me. I deserve better than this!"

She was furious. She had every right to be.

"I'm not lying, Courtney. It's compl⁠—"

"I'll make it easier. What made you sick? You look fine to me now, and I'm guessing you were probably fine last Monday. Am I right?"

"Yes. What you told me in Marvin's office came as a shock. I was⁠—"

"Whoa. Hang on. It was a surprise to you? Okay, sure. I get that. But it physically sickened you ?"

"Courtney⁠—"

"Marvin knew everything about it, Peter! There was nothing⁠—"

She went silent for several moments, her eyes piercing mine.

"Oh, my god. Oh … my … god. This all started before we went to the movie. Happy happy, joy joy, we're going to the movies! Yay!" she said, quite animated.

"Then, as soon as you bought the tickets, you went dark. What the hell changed your mood so fast that⁠—"

"It was your computer. I wasn't lying, Courtney. You've done nothing wrong. But I saw the files on your PC. Files a paralegal shouldn't have on a personal laptop. Some of them were mine . I didn't know Marvin had given them to you to study. I assumed the worst, but now that I know the truth, I know you didn't do anything wrong."

She stared at me with fury in her eyes.

"You snooped around on my laptop⁠—"

"I didn't snoop . The icon for one was right on the start menu⁠—"

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up !"

I winced. A particular word she yelled had always been beyond the pale in my upbringing. She'd never uttered it before, and it had been flung not just in my presence, but directly at me.

"You assumed the worst ? What does that ⁠—"

Again, silence.

"You … you thought I was selling⁠—"

I saw her arm moving. Instinct almost made me block it, but something even deeper caused me to accept what she landed across my face. It burned for several seconds before that side of my head went numb. It'd been almost thirty years since anyone had struck me. The first and last time it happened were the same instance and came from my mother when I accidentally tongue-slipped and let an f-bomb drop. I was maybe six years old.

Once I could make myself move again, I reached up and rubbed my cheek.

"Oh god," Courtney whimpered. "I'm sorry, Peter. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have hit you."

"I deserved it. I betrayed your trust in me by not trusting you, and I screwed up. I'm the one who owes you an apology."

"What's happened to us?" she said.

"I happened. This is all on me."

She reached tentatively forward with her other hand and softly stroked my tender cheek with the back of her fingers.

"You're right. It is. I don't know where we stand anymore."

She left through the door she'd entered not five minutes earlier.

Thanks for the advice. It was helpful I texted, including a photograph of my beet-red cheek.

Ouch but you probably deserved it. The ball is in her court. She needs time to process. Give it to her. was Candy's reply.

Yeah I get it.

Don't be an asshole to her ever again.

I flipped her off with an emoji before I went to bed to a restless slumber.

Somehow, Courtney and I managed to avoid each other at work for the next few days. She did her thing, and I did mine, but I was cautious going around corners.

Another lonely weekend came and went. I almost flew my Siig out of radio range until an observant pilot setting his plane up for takeoff yelled at me. I'd been that distracted.

Sunday evening, I had to cut my own stubbornness away from myself. Yeah, the ball was in her court, but I wondered if she knew it.

I know this is low-class sending this to you by text.
I'm sorry. I can't say it enough. I am so so sorry. I want you to know that I care for you so much that my heart is truly broken. I'm horribly out of practice in how to properly treat a woman, and I hate myself for having hurt you. 💔

I was surprised by the quick reply, but I was scared to read it.

I'm hurting too. Let's talk tomorrow okay?

I sighed in relief.

okay

"Peter?" Courtney said after she lightly knocked on my open door.

"Hey," I said, standing up to meet her halfway.

"Can we talk now?" she asked softly.

Those four words were a lot easier to hear than the "we need to talk" quartet ever is.

"Please," I said, gesturing to a chair.

"Sorry it's so late in the day. Marvin and I had a discussion this morning which created its own thing. He might stop in here in a little while."

"Oh, okay. Anything wrong?" I asked, referring not to the elephant in the room, but about their priority conversation.

"No. Nothing at all."

An awkward moment of silence followed.

"Courtney, I'm sorry. I know I'm being repetitive, but I am. I am very seriously sorry."

"I know, Peter, and I'm telling you I accept your apology, and I need to offer my own."

"You did last week before you left my house."

"Not about that, though I still feel horrible. It was such a juvenile reaction and I'm embarrassed at myself for slapping you. I need to apologize because I realized over the last couple of days that I've been complicit in this whole mess, too."

"What? No. It was all due to my errant assumptions."

"That's not true. I'm sure you've thought about this as much as I have, but what's one thing you would've done differently in this situation now that you have the benefit of hindsight?"

"Easy. Instead of going stealth on movie night, I would have asked you why there was work product on your personal laptop. But considering Marvin told you to keep it on the down-low, I don't know if it would have made⁠—"

"He suggested , Peter. He didn't require it, and that's where I screwed up. What I should have done differently … I should've told you from the beginning ."

I felt myself chuckle. "He's probably right, though. I would have got all into your beeswax and been in the way."

"I thought about that possibility, too, and that's why I didn't bring it up. His reasoning was sound, don't you think?"

I considered her question for several moments. "Yeah. Probably."

"So, yeah. This whole thing is as much on me as it is you. Do you accept my apology?"

"I absolutely do. You mine?"

She smiled and nodded. "I guess this is what happens when lines get tangled."

It'd been half a month since I'd seen the minutest hint of happiness from her.

I chuckled. "Maybe we should blame it all on Marvin."

"Blame what on Marvin?" the man asked from my doorway. I hadn't seen him there.

I laughed. "This whole dust-up," I said, pointing at myself and Courtney.

"If it makes you both feel better, I'm all for it," he agreed, "but I wouldn't have changed anything I did."

His expression went the opposite way. I think he might have felt at least a little regret.

"You bet." I smiled, cutting him the slack he so rightly deserved.

"Did you finally get an answer out of Peter as to which firm he thinks you should consider?"

"Beyond a doubt, it has to be McAvoy and Associates," I answered immediately.

Marvin sounded surprised. "Oh? You're recommending the firm which handed you your lunch last year?"

"I was bested, for sure, so of course.

"Courtney, that's why I think you'd be in fantastic hands," I answered honestly and without reservation. "If they give you the choice and she has time, I'd specifically suggest you work with Vanessa Rains and ask her to beat the insurance company's lawyers with anchor chains. She'll know exactly what that means because I told her that's what it felt like she'd done to me after a particular case finalized."

"So that's settled?" Marvin asked.

"It is, boss," Courtney said.

"Boss? Not for long." He chortled. "Your cubicle will be vacant next Monday."

I gasped. "What ?"

"Easy, Peter. It's not what you think. Marvin hasn't fired me. Given the tension all this stuff caused and our proximity to each other in the workplace, I decided, and he agreed, that I should move down the road."

"You've quit?"

She laughed lightly. "Don't be so dramatic. It's more like an extraterritorial transfer. Marvin recommended me to another firm literally just down the road. Next week, I'll be working for Dunn and Kruger."

"Dunn and Kruger, huh? They're one of the strongest contract and patent law firms in the area. The Estes Group doesn't practice in that specialt⁠—oh. I get it." I chuckled when I realized the significance.

"Exactly," she said with a wink, "no potential conflicts."

"Courtney, are we going to be okay?"

"That depends on what you decide to cook for dinner. We need to get everything out in the open and clear the air by talking through it. My place. Seven o'clock."

"Alrighty then." Marvin grinned awkwardly and turned to leave. "I'm going to close this door and give you two some privacy. Stay out of trouble."

As soon as I heard its latch engage, I stood and opened my arms. We both were aware of the door's sidelight, so we kept the embrace we shared brief.

"I'm so sorry, Courtney," I whispered.

"I am, too, baby, but we need to stop saying it. We both screwed up, we've both acknowledged our faults. We need to put it behind us … and move on."

Baby . It'd been far too long since I'd heard her say it.

I hoped my smile was as comforting to her as hers was for me.

"Dunn and Kruger should reverse the names," I said, sitting back down. "It sounds strange in that order."

Courtney grinned. "They keep it that way on purpose. It even came up this morning during my interview. It's sort of an inside joke. Cheyenne Dunn said they expect anyone who understands the Dunning-Kruger effect isn't likely suffering from it and might even appreciate the irony."

"Courtney, I want to kiss you," I whispered a few moments later.

"Maybe over there," she suggested, pointing to the only corner of my office that wasn't visible through the narrow strip of glass by the door. "Be careful of my lipstick."

I plucked a few tissues from the box because I suspected we might soon need them.

"Oh god," my voice trembled after the soft, tender kiss. "Coconut gloss?"

"You like it, huh?" she whispered with a smile. "Seven o'clock sharp. Don't forget to stop and get groceries."

"Yes, ma'am."

I was a tad late getting out of the office that night. I planned a simple meal consisting of pan-seared Ahi tuna. Roasted Brussels sprouts were topped with crispy bacon crumbles and grated parmesan after being briefly tossed in a few teaspoons of the drippings. Lemon wedges and broiled plum tomatoes provided additional color and flavor. I cheated with the salad by buying a bag of prepared mixed spring greens and a box of croutons.

Courtney was impressed by what I'd prepared and presented as we sat at her table set for two with glasses of chilled chardonnay and continued our discussion. She wasn't nearly as pissed off as I thought she should have been when I told her I'd gone so far as to have her movements tracked. She threw a tomato at me, though, so my shirt would have to be taken to the cleaners for special attention.

I think the fact I laughed at her attack instead of being upset sort of set the mood for the night. After we finished our meal, we placed our dishes in the sink. She put a palm to my chest to inspect the stain she'd made on my shirt.

"Why don't you take that off. Oxy-Clean will fix this right up."

I removed it and handed it to her. She flung it behind her, then ran her hands over my pecs. I was still wearing my crew-neck undershirt, but the barrier didn't prevent her exploration or the pleasant results.

It took her no time at all to find my nipples. She softly stroked them through the white cotton with the pads of her fingers. Of course, the sensation quickly gave me a case of the pokies. She focused on them, making my dick flinch with her stimulus. She bent slightly and suckled one through the cloth. I could feel the humid warmth of her slowly exhaled breath.

I sighed and shivered.

"Oops," she whispered. "Now this needs to be laundered, too."

I opened my eyes and looked down to see a subtle pink smudge on the front of my shirt.

She grinned her faux apology.

"Your oops is asymmetric," I playfully observed, so she sucked my other nipple just as tenderly.

She drew the fabric from the waistband of my suit pants, and I pulled it over my head.

"God . Your chest is so sexy," she said, running her fingers through its hair. "And your nipples . Just … jeepers ."

I wasn't sure what to make of what was going on. The last woman I'd been involved with didn't pay any attention to my chest and wasn't terribly fond of me paying much attention to hers. Courtney was giving me pleasure in a way I'd never experienced and seemed as if she was enjoying herself.