Page 16 of Shockproof

“The mayor hosts a Bridge tournament?”

“Every Labor Day weekend.”

Honestly, I wouldn’t have ever guessed that.

Eh, oh well.

It’s not like Iknow how to play Bridge anyway.

“Arley,” the chunkiness in the lettering recaptures my focus, “you are undoubtedly the most intelligent, most beautiful, and most thoughtful woman I’ve ever known. You deserve someone who not only appreciates those qualities but trulytreasuresthem. Someone who never fails to prove that they valueyouover anything else. Thatyoucome first.” What appears to be additional guilt flutters into his gaze. “Someone who wouldn’teverhesitate to hang up the phone for you.”

“Harvey, it’s not your fault that guy broke into my office.”

“No, but itismy fault that I wasn’t here when I should’ve been to stop that from being a possibility.”

“Harv-”

“I accept responsibility for all of my actions – or more accurately myinactions– today and in the past. I also accept that…” another wave of displeasure discos through his stare, “I will never mean to you what Wahl does.”

To be fair…no onehas ever meant to me what Slater does.

And in spite of how our new…dirty…kinky…side may or may not work out, I know no one else ever will.

A small throat clearing precedes a polite grin. “However, I would like it if we could at least have some sort of cordial relationship. I understand being ‘besties’ is obviously out of the question-”

“Could hearing yousaybesties be out of the question too?”

“Butperhaps casual friends? Work friends? Orworkingfriends? I’m sure it’ll takeworkto get there, but I’m up for it if you are.”

“You mean you want us to get our Ri Ri on?” I lightheartedly poke, yet, when there’s no retort, I find myself cautiously stating, “Okay, so that may not have been mybestmusical one-liner-”

“That was a music reference?”

Shock can’t be kept from overtaking my face, “Wait. Are you saying you don’t get thesongreference or that you don’t know who Ri Ri is? Or both? Tell me, it’s not both.”

“Then I won’t tell you the thing that it is.”

“Seriously?!” The pen launches itself onto my desk. “You don’t know who Rihanna is?!”

“Is it necessary to become so violent about it?” Harvey jocosely investigates. “Should I be banning this person’s music for aggression it can ignite in personnel?”

“No, Sum 41 causes more disturbance in me than Ri Ri ever could. I mean between the headbanging and air guitaring and mosh pitting-”

“You host a mosh pit in your office?”

“For me, myself, and I, yes.” Giggling is attached to me springing to my bare feet. “Now, get up. There’s no sitting down to this song. That’s counterintuitive.”

His resistance isn’t a surprise by any means. “You want me to stand to the music?”

“I want you todanceto the music,” I correct, searching for the song on a different playlist. “However, listener’s choice.” No movement occurs prompting me to continue speaking. “Iwill be dancing because it has this way of centering me. Freeing me. Helping me make peace with the mistakes I’ve made and refocusing on what Icancontrol. And correct. And all that I’m capable of doing.” Pausing at the song is followed by momentarily meeting his gaze. “Baking often has a way of doing that, too, but I can’t exactly whip up a Blueberry Angel Dessert around verifying case assignments and altering the risk analysis algorithm.” Harvey’s small chortle encourages me to wink and press play. “Meet Rihanna aka Ri Ri.”

“You keep calling her Ri Ri. Are you two personally acquainted?”

“In my office…” casually strutting around to the front of my desk where I can dance but also reach for the firearm if necessary, is executed in the middle of the announcement, “IamRi Ri.”

Louder chuckles bounce his frame at the same time I begin to sing along to the tune.

Large, bright, block lettering slowly pops and locks its way to landing in front of me, whispering to the lower half of my figure to do the same. With one hand lingering on the edge of desk, I swivel and sway my frame around in place, swiftly swept up in the spinning and swirling and snaking lyrics seducing my body.

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