Navy Blue - A Second Chance Romance (Complete)

Navy Blue: Chapter 4

Emily answered Mr. Waters email agreeing to mentor Simpson, Simpson and Waters's newest hire when she was in the New York office later this month. She considered slipping out for a cappuccino before resuming her perusal of the file for her first case as a Senior Associate. This court-martial was anything but cut and dry and with the first of the witnesses due to be interviewed today, it was sure to be another long day.

"You worked out a winning strategy yet?" Her brother-in-law and her partner on this case, Lance, leaned against the doorframe. "Dad is watching us on this one."

Dad to Lance was Mr. Simpson to her. Managing Partner in the firm and the man who hired her. Emily was not naïve enough to think she got the job on her superb skills alone. Like many of the people here assumed, she knew her sister's marriage to the boss's son factored into the decision to offer the position.

Unlike Lance, who didn't care what people in the office thought of why he was here, Emily went above and beyond to prove she was worthy of the position. It often meant working long hours of overtime. Her sisters complained she worked too hard and needed to get out of the office and get a life.

But she didn't mind the work. Loved it actually. Helping people, making a difference in the lives of others, had always been in her blood. There had never been a question as to whether or not she would study law, it was always a given since she held a mock trial to convince her parents on the merits of the family adopting a stray dog Beth had found roaming around the lake house. The defendant, her sister, had triumphed over the prosecution, aka her parents, and Lucky became a permanent member of the Montgomery household.

Emily pointed to her chair across from her rather messy desk, multi-coloured file-folders strew across the wooden surface like giant confetti. In her hurry to make the dinner reservations on Friday night, there wasn't time to organize her desk after a day of work. "Just got access. Looks like a Master-at-Arms case."

"Yup, your favourite, the Navy." Lance settled in and crossed his legs. "A routine prisoner transfer by the Navy military police gone wrong."

She scanned the summary on the top of the file. "You've already interviewed Private Casey?"

Lance nodded. "Visited her in the stockage last week. We'll get you out there for your own chat, but my notes are in the database."

Emily turned to her laptop and entered in the case file number. Seems after a day of witness interviews she'd have an evening of catch up reading. "Are the charges under Article 112 or 113 of UCMJ?"

"112. Our woman was piloting a—" Lance looked at his tablet "— a uh-72a lakota utility helicopter which she claims had a malfunction and crashed. The Navy has a different perspective, preferring the tale Casey was drunk at the time and her impairment caused the crash and the unfortunate death of the co-pilot and a..." Lance tapped on his tablet. "Private Anderson."

Emily drummed her pen against a purple file folder. "Says here Private Anderson survived the crash, but later succumbed to her injuries."

"Died a day later. There were two other occupants in the helicopter at the time. They're waiting in the lobby now. Arrived early for their eighteen-hundred-hour appointment." He air-quoted the 18:00 and rolled his eyes.

Absentmindedly, she reprimanded Lance as she hunted for the names of the two witnesses. "You mean fourteen hundred. Eighteen hundred is six o'clock."

"Bet they're in full costume. I know how much you love a man in uniform." Lance's joke hung in the air as Emily's finger froze. On the screen, two names had popped up on her screen listed as witnesses. Private Maxwell Randall and Petty Officer Finn Wainwright.

Her Finn.

Her heart kicked into overdrive and she turned to the doorway like she could see down the hall and into the lobby, where Finn most likely sat on one of the green leather couches. This was why he was in Washington.

For the first time since the summer they spent together, Emily knew where Finn would be and when. She breathed in the concept, held on to it for a moment. Waited for the pounding in her ears, reminiscent of the crashing waves of the ocean so like his eyes, to subside. Exhaled eight long years of wanting.

Only last week she'd been telling Ali the cautionary tale of her ill-fated romance with Finn. Ali hailed from California but had captured the heart of Emily's good friend Sam and he'd returned to the east coast with Ali as his new girlfriend. Emily instantly liked her. When Emily and Ali first met at Sam's welcome home party Mary, who was being more obnoxious than usual, had been skewered by Ali. Ever since they had become fast friends. Ali was the only person she opened up to about Finn after years of never speaking about her feelings. Until yesterday.

"You know I don't get military time." In the reflection of the computer screen, Lance brushed imaginary crumbs off his suit jacket. "Why can't they just say 2 o'clock like everyone else."

Emily caught her image in the screen too, and pushed a lock of her unruly auburn hair behind her ear, returning it to its rightful place in her usual work-appropriate bun. Finn used to love wrapping tendril of her hair around his finger. Emily shook that thought off.

Looking down at her black pantsuit, Emily wished she'd worn something more flattering today. Who was she kidding? Her wardrobe was awash in black and navy-blue suits, devoid of colour, like her life.

The lipstick she'd remembered to put on this morning had worn off at lunch and she hadn't bothered retouching it. Her hand searched for the drawer with her purse, yanked it open and rummaged around for her favourite lip gloss, Au Natural, the shade she wore these days. Every day unless she was in court. Mary, her older sister, would have passionate pink or freshly fuchsia on hand.

"You okay Sis?" Lance leaned forward in his seat. "You didn't have the salmon sushi at Tobiko's again, did you? You know not to order it on Tuesdays."

With effort, she forced herself to laugh at his inference, drawing upon her years of experience at hiding her inner turmoil with a calm exterior. Lance was blissfully ignorant of her relationship with Finn. Emily hadn't met Lance until her first year at law school, four years after her and Finn's summer romance and long after most people's memories of him had faded.

Lance could talk to anyone and usually made a good first impression. They had instantly liked each other, bonding over a horrible tortes professor who seemed to live in the dark ages. Straightforward and genuine, Lance was easygoing and had a way of making her laugh off her worries over the pressures of the course. After only a few classes, he asked her out on a date.

It had been easy to say yes. He had taken her to a romantic Italian restaurant just off campus, where they laughed and talked the night away. Everything was easy and comfortable with him. Just like his personality and contrary to his frat boy looks, sandy blonde hair and movie star smile. At the end of the evening, when Lance leaned in, Emily let him kiss her. Part of her had wanted the kiss to be amazing, wanted her heart to be able to move on from Finn.

It was anything but. In fact, it felt a bit like kissing her brother. If she had a brother. Luckily, Lance experienced a lack of passion as well and they both laughed it off, deciding to just be friends. They were inseparable after that, supporting each other through the gruelling schedule of law school. When Emily invited him home with her for a weekend, Lance met Beth and the rest was history. Emily Montgomery had successfully made a love match for her friends again.

Yet no one was able to find such a match for her. Finn always blocked any chance at romance for Emily. Everyone she met was held up to his standard. They all fell short.

Eight years. Despite the passage of time, there were still days when Finn came to mind. Maybe a passing thought, like the view of the ocean calling forth memories of his eyes on her, or when little things pricked at her soul like her father failing to tip the server or their favourite song playing as she took the elevator from the parking garage to the third floor of the office. He was always there, in the background, like he was just in the other room.

Now he was in the other room. He sat in her lobby, waiting to be interviewed.

"I'm fine." She straightened her jacket. "Let's start the interviews."

But she was anything but fine.