"Like the sound of that," says JC as we climb the stairs together. The second floor is quieter, less busy than the first floor. "Downstairs is all about churning out work," JC said one night when we were discussing his philosophy of CLG. "I want them working cases. I want to hear noise. I don't want it to be a mausoleum, you know? I want to hear meetings and conference calls. I want paralegals running all over the place. I want people to be busy, but not so busy that they can't enjoy what they're doing."

I remember nodding and smiling at the thought and wishing a place like CLG existed when I was clerking. Then I wouldn't have spent so many years languishing at F&R. No matter, I think to myself as JC and I split off at the top of the stairs-him to his office and me to mine. I've moved up to The Big Time.

I love my office. It's the perfect size, in a perfect spot, in a corner of the office that gets a ton of sun, no matter the time of day. I have a pretty view of a flowering tree right outside my window and my office doesn't face the street, so no street noise. I picked out a beautiful black wood desk, computer hutch, credenza and a comfortable leather seating area for meetings away from my desk. A round, low table, two side chairs and a two person loveseat sit in the corner of my office, just waiting to be used. On the wall across from my desk are a large, flat screen TV and two surround sound speakers. On top of the television, a camera is mounted so that I can conduct video conference calls from my office.

The rest of the room is standard-a multiline phone, a leather executive chair, and all of my new toys and accessories, including the name plate that JC had made for me and gave to me at Christmas. I christened my desk with it last week when we came in to receive the furniture shipment and get everything set up.

I drop my bags and sink into my chair. Listen to the silence of my office, marvel at how much room I have. Listen to the faint sounds of conversations down the hall and JC's laugh traveling through the airways.

And smile. I am really here. Really, really here.

"Miss Blake?"

A soft voice pops me out of my reverie and I stand so fast, the chair rolls backward into the credenza. "Uh. Hi! Yes. I'm... I'm Angie Blake."

The short woman with a shoulder length mass of curls smiles as she steps into my office. She has sparkling blue eyes, a wide and welcoming smile and a firm shake, I find out, when she offers her hand. "I'm Kristine. Kris, actually. Your legal secretary. You and the other Senior Associates, as soon as they fill out the floor. I wanted to introduce myself."

"I have a secretary?"

She laughs. "Yes, you do. You'll be far too busy for certain things like preparing briefs, scheduling meetings, making phone calls, transcribing notes, billing clients. That's where I come in. There are two of us. I'm for the Senior Associates. You'll meet Diane a bit later I imagine. She's for the Senior Partners. The uh... Chasez's."

I wonder how they're going to tell all these Chasez's apart. Especially after I become one, too.

"Happy to meet you, Kris. Call me Angie. I'm just getting set up, but I have some cases I brought over from my old firm. I'm guessing they need to be input into some system?"

"I'll take them and make sure they're in the billing system. But..." She dips into the pocket of a pretty pink cardigan and pulls out a slip of paper. "I got a phone call for you this morning. It's what I came to talk to you about. Some new clients and they're... they're downstairs."

My eyes almost pop out of my head. "As in... here?" She nods and I whip around, taking in my bare, sparse office. I hardly look like an attorney right now. "Okay... what's the run down?"

"There are two of them. Neighbors in an older building. The landlord is trying to get tenants to move out so he can tear the building down and build condos. These ladies don't want to move. They've not had heat in the apartment for three days. They heard about you from a former client of yours-you did his landlord case last year. They tracked you down here."

The only case I ever beat JC on is turning out to be my luckiest break ever.

"Okay. Put them in a conference room. I'll be there in a minute." When she leaves, I pull out my purse and dig out my compact. I'm checking my lip gloss when JC walks into my office.

"Hey, baby. You getting settled?"

"Hi. No time. I already have a client." I rifle through my desk for pens, a notepad and a tape recorder.

"What? Already?" I fill him in as I gather the things I need. He laughs when he hears about the referral from my former client. "See what happens when I let you win?"

My eyes roll involuntarily. "Yeah it's not like I didn't win that fair and square or anything. Anyway, I have a meeting right now."

"Mind if I sit in?" I'd been heading out of my office but I stop and turn around at his question, my eyes narrowed in suspicion.  

"Why? You don't think I can handle this case? I thought you weren't going to micromanage me, JC."

"I'm not micromanaging you, Angie. I'm not even your boss. I'm interested in the case. I just -" He pauses, his cheeks developing a slightly pink tinge. "You know what? Nevermind. You're right. Go. Kick some ass baby."

"I thought we talked about no terms of endearment at the office." I'm trying to sound stern but I can't help my smile.

"Sorry. It might take me a year or two to get the hang of that rule."

"You really just want to sit in? Not take over my case?"

He lifts both hands in surrender. "I really just want to sit in."

I know I'm going to regret it, but I give him a cursory nod and gesture him to follow me. "Just eyes, no hands."

"What does that mean?"

"It means keep your mouth shut." Before he can respond, I duck into a conference room and greet my new clients.

Two middle aged ladies are seated in the soft leather chairs around a dark walnut table. They stand as we enter the room, both dressed conservatively in loose slacks and long sleeved sweaters. The taller of the two offers a hand to me across the table.

"I'm Jeannie. This is Ruth." She points to her quiet companion, who bobs her head in a nod and smiles. "We know Carlos Sanchez. Well, his wife, Gloria. She said you really went after that landlord and he backed down."

"Yes, well..."  I blush and glance at JC. "This is Joshua Chasez. He's a Partner here. He just wants to sit in on our conversation today. Is that okay?" Both agree, so I lay out my armful of accessories and press the red button on the tape recorder. "I tape all of my meetings so I-I mean... my assistant can transcribe the notes. It's important to have a record of everything said."

Blank stares greet me from across the table, so I continue. "Okay. Why don't one of you tell me what's going on? Start with where you live, when the problems began, what issues you're dealing with and what you've tried to do to solve the problem so far."

Though the recorder's light flashes to let me know it's working, I take notes anyway. It would be good to have my own set to go over and interject my thoughts about the next steps. Taking turns, Jeannie and Ruth tell me about their two bedroom apartments on the southern end of Orlando; how they'd been living at Breakstone Community Housing for the past twelve years and had never had any problems until recently; how the building had been sold after the economy took a downturn and the new owner had his own ideas of what to do with the land he now owned. He'd tear it down, build expensive condos and sell them to yuppies looking for an affordable place to live.

Which, had Bryson Witherspoon gone about his plan the legal way, would not have been an issue. He hadn't taken the proper legal precautions, ones that would keep him out of court.

And if he didn't turn the heat back on in not only these two, but the remaining units, he would definitely not stay out of jail.

"We have leases that go through the end of next year," Ruth explains, one finger pointedly tapping the table surface. "We signed multi year leases with the previous owner. We didn't sign new leases when Witherspoon Management took over, so our current leases are still legal, right?  He can't cancel those leases just because he wants us out, can he?"

"No, he can't. And we'll make sure he stops trying to force you out before your lease is up. It's illegal to turn off utilities to force a tenant out. Have you spoken to him?"

Jeannie nods vigorously. "Several times. He says he didn't turn it off. It's a problem with the electric company and maybe I didn't pay my bill. I said that my lights were still on and my power was still working so obviously it was a problem with the furnace in the building. The electric company says there's no problem with my bill... with Ruth's bill, that we should be getting heat to our apartments."

She shakes her head. "Nothing. He says it's out of his hands. I'm sure he's turned the heat off. It's nice and toasty in the leasing manager's office. Last night I had to turn on a space heater, but then I was nervous about starting a fire so I kept turning it off until it got too chilly and I'd wake up and turn it on again."

Ruth shivers and I understand why. I recall grumbling about how chilly it was this morning. I imagine having slept all night with no heat in our house and I suppress a shudder of my own.

After several minutes of discussion, it becomes clear that Jeannie and Ruth have exhausted their options with Witherspoon Management, short of moving out of their units, and now are in need of legal assistance. Like most crooked property managers, Bryson is counting on two ladies living off of social security to be without legal resources. He's not counting on Chasez Law Group signing on to fight for them. I'm looking forward to this battle.

"Clearly what needs to happen here, is the guy needs to get a real scare," JC pipes in.

"I agree-"

"I say we send him a letter, a strongly worded letter that spells out the law in no uncertain terms and demands that he complies with it." JC reaches for the file containing the lease that Jeannie and Ruth signed several years prior. He begins to flip through the pages, chewing on his bottom lip as he scans the legalese. "This lease seems valid, on its face," he comments.  "Very straightforward. And you didn't sign a new lease with Witherspoon?"

"No," Ruth answers, with a slow shake to her head. "When he took over we were told our current lease was still in effect; just pay your rent to this new place."

"Okay, well we can definitely help you ladies. What I'll have Miss Blake do is draft that letter to go out today. You'll get a copy of it as well for your files. He'll get-"

"A certain amount of time to answer and comply," I jump in, giving JC a scathing glance. "Say forty-eight hours to turn the heat back on. He'll also be ordered to cease all attempts to intimidate you both into moving out. And if he doesn't, or if his counsel responds, we'll take it from there." I nod, making sure they understand the process.

When I'm sure they do, I stand and extend a hand to them, giving them each a warm and comforting squeeze.  JC nods as they exit the conference room. Kris is waiting to show them down to the front desk.

When everyone is out of earshot, I whirl around and smack JC's upper arm. In no way could I hurt him through layers of thick, lined cotton, but he flinches and whimpers anyway. "What's that for?"

"I told you. No hands! Shut your mouth. You just can't help yourself, can you?"

"Sorry. I got caught up. The next step was obvious-"

"Yes, it was. I was getting to it, before you jumped in. And what was that bullshit about what you'll have me do? I don't work for you, remember? You won't have me do anything." I heave an impatient puff of air and storm out of the conference room. I hear JC following close behind me.

"It would be nice, sweetheart," he says, as he swings my office door closed," if you could defer a little bit of respect to me here. I know you're used to being the Queen Bee over at F&R, but I am a Senior Partner."

"And I'm a Senior Associate. Which means I know what the fuck I am doing. I have a pretty good grasp on the law and a great track record. So while we're asking for respect, it would nice, sweetheart, if I could get some too."

"Look, Angie..."

"Could you just go?" I drop into my office chair and roll myself up to my desk, flipping open the recently acquired file and my pages of notes. "I have things to do and I need Kris to draft this letter to go out today."

JC stands in front of my desk for a few seconds, but when he realizes I'm ignoring him, he stalks out of my office without another word.

It's sort of like old times again, me against JC. Except we're not in a court room. I already see that it's going to be a daily battle between he and I. He wants to assert his authority. He still wants to show me up. I have no interest in his wants. I'm here to do a job.

I spend the afternoon elbow deep in notes and research, then type out a terse letter to Witherspoon Property Management and its owner, Bryson Witherspoon. Once I've turned it over to Kris, I focus my attention on filling out my office so that I look like I actually work there. By the time JC fills my doorway,  keys in hand, my desk is sufficiently covered with notebooks, manila folders, law books and the dock that my laptop plugs into.

JC has managed to stay out of my hair for most of the day. He stopped in to see if I wanted to grab some lunch but Kris and I had already asked the receptionist to order sandwiches. He seemed disappointed as he left my office and I caught a confused glance from Kris.

"We're engaged, in case you didn't know," I told her. "It's not a secret but I hope we'll be able to work together without the office gossiping." Her mouth dropped open, then closed after a few seconds.

"That explains it, then," she said, with a nod. With some prodding, I got her to tell me that JC sat in on her interview and peppered her with some extremely tough questions, both from a legal and a professional ethics standpoint. "After my interview, he walked me out to the front desk and told me that I got the job and that I'd be working for the Senior Associates, one in particular that meant a lot to him. He said he wanted to make sure I was the perfect fit."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but my heart swelled. "At his old firm, his secretary sucked," I mentioned, giggling. "I don't blame him for wanting to interview you himself, but I'm happy so far."

Kris, the poor girl, let an audible sigh of relief escape her lips before taking another bite of her sandwich and going back to the document we'd been poring over.

"Are you about ready to go?" JC asks, lingering near the doorway. "I'm meeting Nick at Prime. We're gonna hang out while you and Morgan have your girl date."

A glance at my watch tells me we have just under half an hour to get to the other side of town. I start packing up my notes, my bag and my laptop.

"Here. Give me that stuff." JC scowls as he takes my laptop bag from me. "Why do you drag so much stuff to work?"

"Never know what I might need," I answer sweetly, leading him out of my office and downstairs to the first floor. Tyler is waiting, chatting up the receptionist. "Hey Ty! How was your day?"

"Rad," he answers, beaming ear to ear. "Really great. You?"

"Rad covers it pretty well. We're on our way to Prime. You coming?"

He nods. "Jade is working tonight. I'll hang out for a while and spend her dinner break with her. She wants to talk about wedding stuff. And house stuff. And car stuff."

I grin at Tyler's faux exasperation. I know, deep down inside, he could not be happier.  

JC is quiet on the drive through town, but the expression on his face-- the slight smile on his lips, the way he hums along with the music flowing lightly through the speakers, the way he's easing through traffic without honking his horn all tell me that he's pleased with himself.

"You have a good day?" I finally ask, since he's not going to bring up why he looks like he overdosed on Xanax.

"Yup," he answers with a nod.

"Are you mad at me? Cause I yelled at you about butting into my case?"

"Not at all. You were right."

"Wow." My jaw nearly hits my chin and I rear back in complete surprise. "I was right? Are you­--are you a pod-person, JC? Are you an alien in a thousand dollar suit right now?"

He laughs, loud and hard. "No, I am not a pod person. You were right. I'm just... you know, like you said. This is going to take some getting used to."

"Yeah. It is. I mean, it's nice to know you're right down the hall." He agrees with a single nod. "But you're not the enemy. I have to remember that now."

"Right. We are on the same team."

"We are... but I'm also not your opponent. And I'm really, seriously not your underling. I have just as much experience as you do. I know just as much-- or more than you do. And I'm good at what I do. You said it yourself."

"I know..."

"You said you wanted to work with me because you like my passion for this arm of the law. You have to let me work it the way I work it. We're not at Perry."

JC pulls into the lot of the strip mall and comes to a stop at a spot near the front door at Prime. "I know that, too. I just...." He cuts the engine with a press of the ignition button, "I guess I miss it. Practicing law."

I laugh. "Really? You miss it?"

"Yeah. What?"

"Nothing, I just... I don't know I guess it isn't weird to miss it. I just thought you wanted this Senior position so badly."

"I did. But I went to law school and got a law degree and I pay the Florida Bar Association an obscene amount of money every year. I don't do all of that to never get in a courtroom." He pauses and glances over at me, a twinkle in his eye. Then leans over and drops a light, lingering kiss on my lips.

"I'm sorry. About earlier. The... bogarting your case and acting like you're some kind of Junior Associate to me. The truth is you're just as senior as I am. I know you know what you're doing. I didn't mean to insinuate that you don't. It won't happen again."

"I appreciate that. And I will work on showing you respect in the office. You deserve that."

He nods a brief acceptance, kisses me again and pops the door handle. Before stepping out, he glances back to me with a smirk on his lips. His eyebrows giggle and I know something obnoxious is about to come out of his mouth.

 "You can apologize to me later."

The whole gang is at Prime, in our usual spot. Jade is working our section and it looks like the drinks have been flowing for awhile. Even Dr. Nick is there, seated next to Morgan, their hands clasped together like the newlyweds they are.

"Hey everybody. This is a surprise!"

I bend down to brush my cheek against Jackie's and take a seat next to her. JC grabs the seat next to me and settles in, unbuttoning his jacket and ordering a lite beer. "Did you guys get a sitter?" I ask Jackie.

"Sort of. My mom is in town. She's watching the baby." I pause for a moment and search her face for any sign of worry or concern. Jackie and her mother don't have the best relationship. We are her family, and have been for a very long time.

"Okay. That's... new."

She gulps a swallow of margarita and relaxes against the back of the chair. "We started talking again when I told her I was pregnant. She's been to rehab and all that. Clean for over a year." Jackie taps the table with her knuckles. "Knock on wood. Anyway... something about being an adult now and being able to tell her all sorts of things I felt like I could never say before... well, it's changed things."

She shrugs. "She's different, sober. Better. We talk all the time now. She's been here for a week and it's been great. She's leaving tomorrow and she wanted some time with her grandson so..." She clinks her glass against my fresh delivery of martini from Jade. "We're hanging out with friends!"

"Well, good." I sling an arm over her shoulder and give her a squeeze. "It's nice to see you out again."

"We need to plan a Girl's Night In," announces Morgan. "We haven't done one of those in a long time."

I have fond memories of our quarterly Girls Night In, which goes all the way back to when Bridget was single. "Sounds good to me. When? Where?"

"Sounds like the girls are getting into girl things," JC announces, standing. "So we guys are going to go do some guy things." He bends to drop a kiss on my cheek. "Someone make sure my girl gets home?"

JC, Keith, Matt and Nick file out of Prime together, laughing amongst each other at a joke JC tells which is most assuredly crass. "There they go. The men of our dreams."

We all bust into loud, boisterous giggles at that.

"All except Tyler, over there in the corner with his laptop." I nod toward Tyler in a poorly lit corner of the bar, the only booth near a power outlet. Jade passes his table, dropping a hand to his shoulder as she does. "He's so whipped."

Bridget rolls her eyes. "Like JC isn't."

"He is not," I protest, laughing.

"Oh. Girl." Jackie shakes her head. "He's so bad."

"What? He's not, I promise."

"I have one hundred and fifty dollars in my wallet that says he is," argues Morgan. I laugh, thinking about the New Year's Eve party, where he promised to repay everyone for their ticket purchase if they would just come to our house so he wouldn't have to go alone. "He always has been, where you're concerned. Even in high school, if Angie wanted it, Angie got it."

"Well... that is true..." I admit to being pretty spoiled back then. Even before we started dating, JC was all about my happiness. If I liked something, wanted to go somewhere, wanted to do something, his priority was making sure I got it, went there, did it. After we started dating, it was more of the same.

And now... I can't even think about something before he becomes overly concerned with me getting what I want.

"Anyway, we had a better time at your house than we would have had at some stuffy hotel, anyway. We  all decided we're giving it back, but we're going to put it in account to save for your Bachelorette Party."

"Oh...God." I hadn't even thought of that, yet. A wedding has been nowhere near top of mind since the day we got engaged. We don't have a date picked out; we've never talked about venue. I don't have a clue what my colors are. "I'm afraid. I'm very afraid."

"Don't be afraid," Morgan coos, reaching across the table to reassure me with a pat on the arm. "Just know that you two will pay handsomely for the last twenty years of bullshit you've put us through."

"Oh. God." My head sinks toward the wood of the table. My second martini is hitting hard, but that's not what's making me light headed.

&

Jackie pulls into our driveway a little after ten o'clock. I cut myself off after three martinis and finished the night off with water. Still, I'm a little wobbly on my feet as I step out of the car.

"Thanks Jacks. Cool to hear about your mom."

"You're welcome. And thanks. I have my fingers crossed."

The front door opens as I stumble up the sidewalk. JC's grin as he watches me walk through the door makes my eyes roll. "Hey, Drunky. Nice of you to come home."

"It's only ten. And I'm not drunk. I'm tired." And hot. I start undressing as soon as I get into the house, kicking off my shoes and unzipping my dress. "How was guy's night? Is that going to be a new thing, now?"

"Guy's night was fun. We went to look at naked women." I turn on the steps to glare at him but he doesn't notice. "We went to that new cigar bar, just to check it out. Had a couple of drinks. Played darts. Then I came home and waited for Drunky to make her way back here."

"I'm not..." I hear him chuckle as he follows me into the bedroom. "Fuck you, asshole."

"Fuck me? Asshole?"

"Yes. Fuck you. Asshole." But I'm laughing as I repeat myself. "We doin' it tonight or what?"

"Goddamn, you're sexy, woman. Doin' it?"

"Yeah." I peel off my underwear and toss both articles in the closet laundry hamper, then set about removing my jewelry. "Doin' it. Are we?"

He shrugs like he couldn't care less if we have sex. "If you want..."

"I want. I'm going to take off my makeup. Be naked when I come back."

JC snorts, but I hear him shedding his suit through the closed door of the bathroom.

As directed, JC is lying in the middle of the bed, naked, spread eagle and fully erect when I come out of the bathroom. "I took the liberty of getting hard for you. Don't want you to have to work too hard to arouse me, seeing as how you're tired."

"It's the little things," I sigh as I tap the light switch on the wall. The lamps next to the bed give off a soft, romantic glow. I climb up onto the bed and collapse next to JC, reveling in his warmth and strength. I feel every moment of my day melt away, right there next to him. I sigh again, this time inhaling deeply and emptying my lungs.

"That was dramatic."

"That was cleansing. I am happy right now."

He rolls to his side, propping himself on an elbow. "Are you?"

"I am. I really, really am."

"Even though you're about to marry an overbearing asshole?"

"Even though." I giggle.

"Lucky me," he whispers, dipping his head toward mine and capturing my lips in a sweet kiss that turns sultry in seconds. He hums his pleasure and rolls toward me until he is on top. My legs move as if by instinct to wrap around his torso. I'm lost in the kiss, in the rhythm of his heart beat, in the scent of musky, woody cigar smoke in his hair.

"I love you," I whisper, when he releases my lips.

JC doesn't answer with words; he tells me he loves me with a thrust of his hips and a deliciously full feeling and a steady, heady wonderful grind on my clit.

"Oh my God..."

"Mmmph," he mutters, muffled by his face buried in my neck, where he's gently nipping my skin. We move in time, moaning aloud in chorus. My limbs tighten around him; my nipples are at attention and the sensation as they bounce against his chest is delightful. To me, anyway though I am sure he enjoys it as much or more.

"Baby... fuck me. I'm close."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," is all I get from him, but he speeds his thrusts. My hips match his rhythm, my back arches on its own and my body begins its own dance, convulsing and gyrating and eating up every second of powerful orgasm. The moment I go over, I feel JC right behind me, spilling into me with spasmic jerks of his hips against mine.

"Goddamn!" He heaves a loud sigh and pulls out, then falls onto the bed next to me.

"Good, Goddamn?"

"Good Goddamn," he repeats, rolling his head to the side so he can grin at me. He glistens with sweat and he's just beginning to catch his breath. I like doing that to him.

"Did you know that you're pussy whipped?"

He chuckles. "Right now? Yes I am."

"No, I mean... tonight. All the girls have informed me that you're whipped. And I'm kind of inclined to agree."

"Honey..." JC finds the strength to sit up, pulling me with him. Our ritual is loud, sweaty sex. And then a shower.

"Like I said...Yes. I am. Let's hit the showers. Long day tomorrow."