Epilogue （1）
One Month Later…
Garcia
This is that moment.
That crucial moment where you have to enter a plea.
An official plea.
In front of everyone.
Those in the gallery.
The court reporter.
The bailiff.
The other attorneys.
Other clients or victims.
The Judge.
It’s either agonizing or easy.
Today?
For me?
Here in the court of public opinion?
It’s easy.
A helluva lot easier than I honestly ever envisioned it being.
Benefit of being chloroformed, kidnapped, and forced to get fucked in front of an audience, I imagine.
I thank the bartender for my tequila and lime prior to turning towards Cian McDermott, one of the attorneys at my firm that’s closer to my age, who grumbles under his breath, “God, I hate these fucking garden charity events.” He takes his own bourbon and lime that’s being offered.
“Who wants to wear this much clothing in this much heat?”
Chuckles precede us strolling away from the open bar.
“However, I will confess-”
“Very unlike you,” escapes in a mirthful fashion.
“In confidence-”
“Ah,” I steal a sip of my beverage, “more like you.”
“That these PR parades are a perfect place to search for our future partners,” he announces alongside an arrogant smirk. “And I don’t mean for the firm.”
Rather than remind him that I’m aware of the secretary he’s harboring feelings for, I simply state, “Searches for you, maybe. Not me.” Our meandering continues towards the table I’ve been occupying most of the afternoon with my guests. “I’m here with my boyfriend.”
His beige forehead wrinkles in obvious confusion. “Boyfriend?”
“And my girlfriend.”
“And girlfriend?”
I casually nod.
Sip.
Present no shame.
Nor guilt.
Because why should I?
I’m happy.
I’m genuinely happy.
Our relationship…our…choice…at non-societal conventional romance isn’t harming anyone nor is it really that different than so-called traditional couples.
Occasionally, people stare, however, that occurs for several reasons ranging from the discomfort of sexual orientation to race, which are things two people relationships can and do face as well.
My best friend is supportive – mind you he himself has two partners.
My parents are overly supportive – Mom claiming she just knew this is the type of situation I would end up in, especially after Ace did.
And as for my job, well.
This is the first opportunity I’ve had to bring them to anything.
It’s not like you bring your significant others to the courtroom with you and due to the work, I’ve been hired to do for Ravencroft regarding the ocean discovery, I’ve actually spent very little time here in Spike Village.
I’ve practically had to uproot my entire existence and relocate it to Turtle Haven in order to effectively navigate the legal nightmare she correctly assumed we’d be facing.
Thankfully, the place we were temporarily renting has allowed us to rent even longer.
Moreover…I am considering making an offer to just fucking buy the place.
I mean why not?
Salay needs a place close to where she works, plus it’s directly on the beach, so she’s constantly fucking happy.
Zero loves the fact he can work out by the pool.
Go get ice cream or meet her for lunch at the drop of a hat.
Hell, he’s even gotten rid of his penthouse and moved all his shit to this place because it feels like home.
To him.
To her.
To me.
To us.
Where our…adventure began seems like a place we should be permanently, doesn’t it?
I’ll probably put in an offer this week.
Perhaps discuss with them on the drive home what they think.
They appreciate it more when I let them in on major decisions rather than just make them.
I will never again book a cruise vacation for three without discussing it first.
I thought it was a sweet, romantic gesture.
Salay took it as an act of war to trap her on a ship she couldn’t get off when she felt like it and Zero interpreted as challenge of investigative skills to see who all the other passengers would be.
That reminds me.
I need to cancel that trip.
“You have…” Cian struggles to process the information, “both?”
“Happily.”
“And they know about each other?”
“We’re in one singular consenting relationship, so yes.” The smugness on my face appears upon our arrival at the large, round, white tablecloth covered table where my partners have been waiting for my return. “Cian McDermott, this is my girlfriend, Salay Henderson.”
She casually leans back in the cushioned seat presenting us both a better view of her tits that are barely being contained in the bright orange, halter, mini dress that looks like it belongs being a swimsuit coverup rather than a dress. “Pleasure, I’m sure.”
My eye roll barely precedes my free hand landing on the back of chair closest to me. “And this is my boyfriend, Zero.”
He extends his orange floral and beige jacquard jacket arm forward along with an open palm for shaking. “Nice to meet you.”
“Zero?” he curiously questions. “No last name?”
“Not until he’s ready to have mine,” I declare, fingers inching over to rest lovingly on the nape of his neck.
Redness tints my boyfriend’s cheeks prompting Salay to sink her teeth into her bottom glossed lip in amusement.
This is also a first.
Yes, me introducing my colleagues to my significant others, but also declaring my intent – my hope – for our relationship.
It feels different.
Yet right.
Like getting a straight no guilty verdict when you knew your client was the wrong one being tried.
“You here with someone?” Salay politely asks the man standing beside me.
His mouth opens to tell the planned truth when the real one casually walks by our table, arm wound tightly around the arm of junior associate from a rival firm.
Jaqueline Bryant is off limits in his mind.
Wrong.
The one weekend they had together during Christmas is something that – to him – should’ve never happened.
But did.
And being very familiar with the very jealousy pumping through his veins at this moment as well as understanding of needing a push to go after what it is you really want leads to me gently encouraging, “You should go say hi to Jaqs. This is her first one of these things. She’d probably appreciate the familiar face from the office. ”
Cian’s blue glare cuts over to meet my brown. I simply wink in wordless support prompting him to nod in gratitude prior to declaring to the table, “If you’ll excuse me…”
Salay gives a tiny three finger wave while Zero merely grins goodbye.
Poor guy.
However, I get it.
I just hope he learns like I have.
The instant we’re alone again, Salay bluntly states, “He fucked her and now he regrets not being the one to continue to fuck her.”
“Eres un poeta,” I lightly chortle, thumb stroking our boyfriend’s neck.
“I am a poet and I am right, right?”
“Sí.”
Her snarky smirk doesn’t distract Zero from glancing up to ask, “You mean it?”
“What?” casually escapes between sips. “That’s she’s a poet?” Additional warm chuckles shake my shoulder. “She’s no Frost but I’d give her Dickinson.”
“You just wanna give me dick,” sasses our lady.
“Siempre.”
“The last name thing,” our younger partner proclaims, regaining my full focus. “You want me to have yours?”
“Sí.”
“Like…no cap?”
“Like…I want you to have me in any way and every way, Zero.”
Which is why the occasional switch sesh is an option.
I didn’t hate taking it to the level I imagined I would; however, it is not something I want all the time.
Honestly?
I like dominating and he likes being dominated.
The availability…the flexibility…for the sporadic shift in that aspect is further evidence of giving him something I’ve never given to anyone else.
Except Salay.
Who can’t exactly fuck me with more than her tongue.
I’ve come to rather enjoy that too.
I still prefer my balls, but I won’t turn down a rim job.
“Aw,” Salay sweetly coos, “that kinda talk deserves a roadie on the way home.” She props her elbow on the table and flops her face into her open palm. “Don’t worry, I’ll drive.”
“You just want the keys to my new Bentley.”
Her giggles are barely spoken over, “What about Salay?”
“What about me?” she swiftly jabs back.
“Do you want her to have your last name too?”
“Pass,” is playfully injected into the convo.
“Do you want her to have you every way too?” Hope crawls onto his expression leaving it no choice except to be mirrored on mine. “Do you want us all to be together…forever?”
There’s no hesitation, vacillation, or doubt in my voice, “Sí.”