Cerise Harvey is a twenty-three year old hopeless romantic and over achiever, following closely in the shadows of her father, Michael Harvey- top criminal defense attorney of New York, legacy. With big shoes to fill, she's always gone above and beyo...
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Cerise smoothed over the soft suede material of her cropped blazer as she stared up at the elevator floor indicator, watching the floor numbers blink by the higher up she ascended into the Markman tower of lower Manhattan— the 'stateside firm'.
She scrunched her nose almost immediately upon the elevator doors opening, hitting her with a scent of old moth balls and stale coffee. Cerise stuck out like a sore thumb among the gray sea of depressing office cubicles, where a majority of court appointed officials did their desk work.
Cerise stepped off the elevator, her netted Bottega heels making a muffled thud sound against the thin carpet as she followed a familiar path she'd taken many times during after business hours— Derrick's office. However, this time it wasn't for a private dalliance, but now during day time hours and for business.
She didn't need to announce her presence as his office door was wide open— he stood talking with a few court officers, an open box of donuts on his desk.
"Gentlemen," Cerise greeted properly, standing in the doorway with her mini crocodile leather Kelly bag clutched in both hands— her posture straight, shoulders back and energy demanding. "Mr. Jordan," She then greeted with a sarcastic smile, turning to Derrick next.
Derrick narrowed his slanted eyes at her, a small smirk dancing on his lips as he dismissed everyone in the room and closed the door behind them, sizing Cerise up as he walked past her. It was almost as if she could physically feel his eyes undressing her, a tension cultivating in the air between them.
"Donut?" He asked with a charming grin, flashing his pearly white teeth that used to make her weak in the knees at one point. Cerise narrowed her gilded brown eyes at him. "No—thanks," She replied dryly, a dash of attitude in her tone. "But you can get me what I came here for— Derrick," Cerise said, adding authority to her voice.
Derrick stared at her for a brief moment before nodding, going into one of the file drawers of his desk and pulling a thick Manila folder out, dropping it onto the oak desk. Before Cerise could grab her case discovery, Derrick grabbed it back making Cerise kiss her teeth.
"You said you were going to help me," She said in confronting tone, turning her top lip up in agitation.
A few months prior, Cerise found Derrick's games cute but now she could hardly stand the man.
"I did say I was going to help you— I didn't say I would make it easy though," He snickered. "What are you going to do for it?"
"What will I do for it?" Cerise repeated in an appalled manner, looking at him crazily. "I'll report you for disorderly conduct— that's what I'll do," She replied smartly with a sarcastic smile, snatching the folder from his hand anyway. "You're barking up the wrong tree,"
"Now it's the wrong tree," He snickered, more so to himself. "It was the right tree just a couple weeks ago,"
Cerise looked at him with a look of disdain, turning her top lip up and rolling her eyes— now regretting all the times they'd made lust in that office; regretting ever engaging in an adulterous affair with him— or any relations with him at all for that matter. Since they'd crossed that line of professionalism he no longer viewed her as a strong opponent in the courtroom, but now just another piece of pussy. Instead of engaging any further with him, she opened his office door to leave.
