What's a Girl to Do? (Season 3)

Chapter Eight: Mutual Denial

I get into the firm at the correct time on the first of January, still shell-shocked at the notion that Charlotte is truly gone. Trying to push past how vulnerable Nicholas and I became that night—which had trickled into the next morning, when I'd finally driven home—I knew that, once and for all, I couldn't allow myself to be that way. I wasn't an emotional person; I'd kept my emotions in check for years, while living under the tyranny of Dr. Normal and Tina, and I could not allow myself to falter, at any moment, ever again.

I give Rachel a half-hearted smile as I bustled past, and she mutely handed over my messages without asking me how my holiday was, or even asking about Iana. Making my way down the hallway, I ducked into my office quickly, seeing that the light wasn't on in Nicholas's office yet, and feeling instantly relieved that I wouldn't have to deal with him yet. Stepping inside my own office and flicking on the light, I made my way inside, shutting the door behind me, and placed my stuff down on the surface of the desk. Sitting in my seat, I switched on my computer, and regulated my bag to the floor, and tried to focus on the messages and any incoming emails that I would have to deal with.

About half an hour into my email correspondence, I got a text from Josh. Feeling relieved that he wouldn't be able to judge my tone from a text, I picked up my phone and scrolled through the conversation history. So far, so good, I thought to myself, accessing the latest message and doing my best to remain calm.

Hey! Just wondering if I could see you for lunch today?

Sure, I wrote back, hoping that he was excited at the notion of seeing me, and that nobody of merit had seen me doing the walk of shame out of Nicholas's condo. How's noon?

Noon's perfect! What are you hungry for?

This bistro by the courthouse is always delicious. I'll send you the directions, okay?

Sounds great, Murph! See you at noon!

I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't drop some kind of negative bombshell on me as I continued with my work. It was around eleven o'clock that I finally got some correspondence from Nicholas, and my cheeks immediately flooded with heat as I accessed the email. My computer decided to deliberately be slow in that moment, and I found myself drumming my fingertips along the surface of the desk, until such a time that it decided to make itself ready. I felt instant gratification when it did, although my stomach dropped when I read the contents of the email he'd sent.

I assume you have lunch plans with Josh today, Murphy, so I'll make this brief. I would very much appreciate it if you could come to my office before you leave, say around eleven-thirty, to discuss a matter of importance.

He didn't sign the email, and the distance and the formality behind his tone scared me, and yet I wondered then, as I'd never considered before, that, now that he and I had slept together at his condo, that perhaps he was going to air on the professional side at work. No matter what the reasoning, I hoped it was for that reason alone that he was speaking to me in such an arms-length sort of way, but I pushed the thought from my mind, and spent the next half hour catching up on my latest research for the Farris case, which was starting in March. Finally, the time had come and I got to my feet, making my way out of my office and towards Nicholas's.

"Come in, Murphy," Nicholas called, and I stepped inside, and he gave me a polite smile as I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

Nicholas shook his head. "No, Murphy. Nothing is wrong. Please, sit down," he said, and I moved to sit, feeling his eyes on me with every step I took. "Have a nice remainder of your vacation?" he asked.