R. Griffin - Seamless

Stella was shocked. “What? Why?”

“Well, the pictures have given us so much business. It was advertising that we could never have paid for.” Cory walked around the counter and embraced her. “Thank you.”

“Well, you guys are the best and everyone on God’s green earth has seen the tattoo on my back, so it might as well give you some business.”

“Some business?” Cory was bemused. “Your advertising alone paid my salary last month.” He looked at her bandaged bicep. “I hope all your devils are far away from here.”

Stella smiled, it was her fake smile. “Thanks, Cory.”

She emerged from the tattoo parlor with a bandage around her left ring finger and her right bicep. She felt the demons following her. Her tattoo was a current picture of how she felt; she was fighting devils even when she couldn’t see them on a daily basis. Would it ever end?

As soon as she got into her car, she let her emotions take over and tears ran down her face. I’m so fucking tired of crying. After three seconds, she stiffened her spine and started driving over the Key Bridge to meet Patrick and Millie at Café Asia; sushi and Kirin were necessary today.

She was running a little late, but when she opened the door and spotted Millie and Patrick, the nerves started to melt away. Patrick stood up and embraced her; Stella went to Millie and hugged her too. Her emotions were more raw than normal after her time at Skins and Needles and her friends were just what she needed to keep the devils at bay.

Patrick had his hand on her back and guided her to sit across from him at the tiny table they were sharing. He signaled to the server to bring another round. They already had a Sapporo waiting for her, but could tell she’d need another one. “Where’s Billy?” Stella asked as they sat.

“Houston?” Millie’s answer was a question. She looked at Patrick for confirmation.

He nodded.

“Will you share a dragon roll with me?” Millie asked Stella. Patrick didn’t like eel.

“Sure, Mil.” Stella picked up the menu to select her sushi rolls.

“So,” Patrick started, “Jamie’s making his presence back in the ATF known.”

Millie put her menu down and looked from Stella to Patrick. “So what now?”

“We’re going to fight,” Stella answered, determined. “I’m going to fight.

George was standing at the back of a rowdy group of reporters all clambering for the Senator’s attention. He was bored and a little disillusioned by the entire process of being a reporter following the campaign trail. It hadn’t turned out exactly as he expected. His phone dinged. It was Emanuel.

Check your inbox your girl got some new tattoos

He’d asked Emanuel to keep an eye out for Stella while he was gone, and unlike Patrick, he was actually keeping in touch.

Ok

George opened his personal email and the recent message from Emanuel. There were three pictures. The first was of her arm, the cast still on her hand and a fresh tattoo clear on her bicep. The pit of his stomach lurched; she was dealing with this on her own and he was here. Fuck. She was walking Cooper in the park across from their house and had a look of amusement on her gorgeous face. Patrick’s back was in the same picture. Well, I guess she’s not alone.

The next picture made his heart soar and he made an inaudible sound. The picture showed a close up of the ring finger on her left hand, holding Cooper’s leash in the park. The photographer had gotten so close he could read the word inked around her finger, where a ring would usually be—“only.” Directly under that picture he saw the inside of her left hand, where the back of her finger said “you.” He coughed as sentiment almost choked him. She didn’t say how much he meant to her, other than she loved him, but this was everything. She’d marked herself to be his. Forever.

He clicked on Voxer. “Breaker, breaker. Love, are you there?” He walked outside and sat on the curb and waited, scanning through her Twitter feed to see where she was. Sometimes it was the easiest way to see what she was doing. It was 6:30, so she was probably still at work. His phone dinged with a Voxer message.

“What up, Blue Balls?” Her voice was upbeat.

“I just saw your new tattoos,” he said with a smile.

“Oh,” she replied hesitantly, “yeah.”

“If I was there, I would fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.” Some people standing a few feet away looked at him, jaws dropped, appalled by his statement.

“Is that so?” she asked, grin evident in her voice.

“Yep. I would fuck you so long you’d lose count of how many times…”

“Will?” He was interrupted by Jessica. “What are you doing out here? Is everything okay?” She stood a few feet away from where he was sitting on the curb in a black suit with knee high boots, her red hair loose around her fair face. He lifted his thumb off the Voxer app and tried to close it, but Stella was too quick.

“Hey, if that’s Jessica, tell her your duck is mine.” Stella laughed.

George was clumsily trying to get out of the message or mute it, but Jessica heard and blushed.

“Tell your girlfriend that she’s as horrible as the media makes her out to be.” Jessica spun on her heel and walked back inside.

George chuckled; if Jessica thought that was bad, she hadn’t heard anything. Voxer beeped at him again and he grinned.

“You still ready to fuck me?” Stella asked through her giggles.

“All day and all night, Love. The duck is ready to quack.” He laughed.

“I’m glad you like my tattoo,” Stella said, suddenly serious. “It’s the truth.”

“Me too, Love. Me too.”

Stella hurried across the parking garage into the building that housed the law firm where she was taking a deposition. There were twelve parties in this lawsuit, one plaintiff and eleven defendants. All parties had counsel attend the deposition, but the only attorneys that really did anything were the attorney taking the deposition and the one defending their witness. Depositions were always boring if you were just attending, but when you were actually asking the questions, it could be interesting. However, most parties’ attorneys attend because it was the best way to get information from witnesses before trial. You used depositions to prepare for trial, but also to make written arguments in briefs. Christine was supposed to be taking this deposition, but ended up having a conflict and was in court, which led to Stella covering for her, which was arguably the biggest deal of her short career. She’d only been practicing a little over a year and this deposition was huge. She’d be deposing one of the defendants, the CEO of a media conglomerate, who ran a story that was proved false about her client, Senator McMillian. Stella was also deposing the CEO’s secretary regarding what she knew about the events surrounding the story. This was make it or break it for her with her firm for real legal work and she knew it—she needed to prove herself to be a lawyer, not just a distraction. Good thing she was wearing her lucky heels.

She opened the door and while she was waiting for the elevator, twisted the diamond earring that George gave her in her ear. Her phone buzzed. Stella pulled her cart with all her exhibits for her witnesses and her computer into the elevator.

where r u

It was the Senator. He must already be in the office.

elevator

She emerged from the elevator and took a look around the lobby of the law firm. There was an enormous cherry wood reception area directly in the middle of an expansive lobby. There were four different areas to sit so no attorneys would have to sit near each other if they didn’t want to, which had its advantages. Each area had its own conference room area off to the side. She hoped the firm had a conference room big enough for all the egos that were attending the deposition this morning. She walked directly over to Senator McMillian.

“Senator,” she said, shaking his hand. “Stella. Good to see you.” Senator McMillian was an attractive man in his fifties that was in good shape for his age and was rumored to have had numerous affairs with young staffers on the Hill. “You ready?”

“Of course,” she answered with faux confidence. She’d learned early on that even if you didn’t feel like you knew what you were doing, make everyone else think you did. Fake it ‘til you make it.

The CEO’s counsel walked out from a door on her left and motioned to the crowd of attorneys to follow him into the conference room. Stella and Senator McMillian followed the group and ended up in a conference room that could easily sit 45 people. Stella moved to the end of the table and positioned herself across from where the witness would sit. An older male attorney with silver hair approached her.

“Miss, I’d like a mini-script when you’re done.” He pressed his business card into her hand before walking down the table and dropping into a seat.

Stella’s face burned in embarrassment. He thought she was the fucking court reporter—a mini-script was the type of transcript of the deposition he wanted when they were finished.

Glancing around the conference room, she noticed several of the other attorneys smirking at her after having watched the exchange. She dropped her folders on the table and made her way down to him. “Sir?”

The attorney looked up at her. “Yes?”