Off The Record Ch. 02

Hi all!

This will be the first chapter told from Morgan's perspective so you can get to know her a little better.

All characters are over 18.

Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments :)

***

Morgan breezed out of the elevator and through the glass doors that led to the seventh floor offices of the Marshall & Brooks building, balancing no fewer than eight coffees between the two carrying trays in her hands.

Sidling up to the reception desk, she paused to make her first delivery of the morning, sending Jennifer a bright smile. "Happy Monday," she said cheerfully. She clicked her tongue while she eyeballed the assortment of drinks, selecting the one intended for the very tired-looking receptionist. "Your large vanilla sweet cream cold brew." She presented the to-go cup to Jennifer dramatically, as if it were the Holy Grail.

She accepted it gratefully, taking a long sip before she spoke. "You are a life saver."

Morgan leaned against the desk, taking in the dark circles under Jennifer's eyes, barely concealed beneath the foundation she'd applied in a clear attempt to hide her exhaustion. "Always happy to make the Monday morning coffee run." She planted her elbow on the desk, resting her chin in her palm. "Long weekend? You look like you've been to war and back."

"Gee, thanks Morgan," she said with an eyeroll. But she smiled as her light blue eyes met Morgan's. "Ellie didn't sleep at all last night. Luke offered to take her in shifts with me, but I let him sleep since he'd just worked a double."

Morgan nodded in understanding. Jennifer was a new mother to her first, and had returned from maternity leave only the week prior.

"There isn't enough caffeine in the world to save me from the hell that is Monday." Jenn reclined in her swivel chair with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes briefly, clutching the coffee between her hands like a lifeline tethering her to consciousness.

"Probably not," Morgan said with a sly smile, "but I brought you a backup coffee to give it the good old college try."

Jennifer's eyes snapped open as Morgan plucked the second coffee from the carrying tray. "Have I ever told you that I love you?"

"Not nearly enough," Morgan replied with a chuckle. "Are there any messages for me?" She slid the coffee across the counter, leaning her elbows on the desk.

Jenn took another sip of her coffee as she scanned the organized chaos of the sticky note explosion that spanned her desktop. Morgan couldn't make heads or tails of it, but Jennifer had a system.

She hummed thoughtfully. "A few," she said, plucking a neon pink square from the top corner of her monitor. "But most importantly, DA Moore wants you to call her back to discuss the Sterling case at your earliest convenience."

At the mention of the name, a thrill ran through Morgan, and she stood up a little straighter; at the same time, her heart dropped into her stomach and through the floor.

Because Angela Moore, Manhattan's legendary district attorney, wanted to speak to her. About a case. It was fucking surreal.

Granted, they would be on opposite sides of the battlefield come January, and Angela was undoubtedly calling to try and settle things without unleashing a shitstorm of unwanted scrutiny upon the city's justice system. But it was still surreal, nonetheless.

Jennifer pulled another note, this one blue, and handed it to her. "Heather took down the information of a potential client for you when you were off last Friday. They called her by mistake."

Morgan hummed in understanding as she skimmed the contents of the note--a name and a phone number. She'd thank Heather for handling the caller when she dropped off her chai latte in a few minutes.

The last thing she needed right now was another client on her docket, but she'd give them a call anyway and see what they needed. Maybe she could refer them to a coworker she trusted.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "I swear, whoever decided to hire two Monroes at a law firm should be fired. We get at least three calls a week confused about why they received a voicemail saying that they had called the wrong Monroe."

Morgan chuckled, shaking her head.

It happened so often that it had become a running gag throughout the office.

"Oh, also," Jennifer said with a grimace that told Morgan she was not going to like whatever she said next, "Ryan was looking for you this morning. So, don't be surprised if he pays you a visit at some point today."

Morgan grunted, her good mood plummeting. "Gross. Did he say what he wanted?"

"No," Jenn tapped away at her keyboard for a few moments, distracted. "But he had that stupid look in his eye, like he was planning something."

Morgan tapped her fingertips against the desktop twice, thinking as she let out a dramatic sigh. "I appreciate the warning."

She glanced at her watch, groaning when she saw that it was later than she'd thought.

"I should go get my day started." As she backed away from the front desk, she asked, "Are you good for lunch around noon?"

"Always, gorgeous," Jenn said, with a bright grin. "Thanks again for the coffee."

Morgan tipped an imaginary hat in her direction before spinning on her heel and making her way down the hallway.

After finishing her coffee deliveries, Morgan made her way to her office to settle in for the day.

Morgan took a half hour to answer her weekend emails before her attention was pulled by the pink sticky note that she'd placed delicately on her desktop calendar. She reached out to run her fingertip over the phone number scrawled in Jennifer's neat handwriting.

No time like the present.

With another brief second of hesitation, Morgan pulled the sticky note toward her and picked up her phone, tapping the number in.

"Manhattan District Attorney's office," a pleasant female voice greeted her after two rings.

"Good morning," she said in her friendliest, most professional voice. "This is Morgan Monroe over at Marshall & Brooks. I'm returning a call to District Attorney Moore in relation to an upcoming case. I believe she called this morning."

"Ah, yes," the woman responded. "Let me connect you to her now."

"Thank you," Morgan replied, her fingertips drumming nervously across the top of her desk while she waited on a brief hold. Time seemed to slow down as it occurred to her that this was quite possibly the most consequential phone call of her career thus far.

"Miss Monroe," an authoritative but warm voice joined her on the line a few moments later. "Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I hope you had a relaxing weekend."

Morgan smiled to herself, spinning in her chair. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she would be exchanging Monday morning pleasantries with Angela fucking Moore.

"I did, thank you," she said. "I hope you did as well." She paused before deciding to get right down to business. "I've been looking forward to hearing from your office's appointed counsel."

A thoughtful hum came from the other end of the line. "Yes, well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to let you know that I will personally be leading the prosecution team for the Sterling trial."

Morgan stopped breathing. Only for a second, though, before she recovered and cleared her throat. "Back in the saddle, then?"

Angela chuckled softly. "I don't know if I'd go quite that far, but I think that this case in particular calls for an experienced hand. You know what they say. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." There was an amused undercurrent to her words, like she knew what she had just said would throw Morgan off. But she was determined not to let Angela know that she was rattled.

Morgan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her mind going a mile a minute, already making a mental list to share with Joel about how their approach may need to change now that she knew Angela would be at the prosecution's helm.

When Angela had been litigating more consistently, she had earned a conviction rate of just over ninety-four percent. That sort of success rate was unheard of. She had a way of working juries that struck dread into the hearts of defense attorneys across the city. And with a case as high-profile as the Sterling case, Angela would be feeling increased pressure from those higher up to once again obtain a conviction; the city's judicial system was in damage-control mode, trying their best to sweep the originally botched trial under the rug.

"It'll be an honor to see you in action," Morgan said.

While Morgan admired Angela professionally, there was no doubt that her ego was highly inflated due to the career she'd had, and Morgan hoped to use just a little bit of brown-nosing to her advantage.

She could hear the smile in Angela's voice as she responded, "Likewise, sweetheart."

Morgan bit back a scoff at her patronizing tone of voice. "And I suppose that there's nothing I can say or do to convince you to accept a plea deal that would allow your client to be sentenced to time. Save us all a little pain and suffering?"

Morgan smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn't help but be reminded of why she admired this woman so much. It was this dogged persistence that had made her as successful as she was. Why defense attorneys shook in their boots when they saw her sitting at the table next to them in a courtroom.

The offer alone told Morgan that Angela knew the defense had a rock solid case. Angela was a shark, and she notoriously refused to even offer plea deals when she felt she could send a defendant to prison easily. She thrived in the courtroom, and she was the type of lawyer Morgan had always strived to be.

But with the Sterling case, Marshall & Brooks had a proverbial slam dunk. The entire handling of the case reeked of corruption. If nothing else, the fact that his previous conviction had been overturned upon reexamination of the evidence was proof enough that Edward Sterling hadn't received a fair trial. This made the chances of an acquittal the second time around astronomically higher than usual.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Moore, my client is interested in clearing his name after wrongfully spending twenty years in prison. Anything less won't satisfy him."

"Fair enough," Angela said, her tone resigned but respectful. "On to jury selection then."

She sighed wistfully. "I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing you work. And Miss Monroe? Give me a call if you ever decide to leave the dark side over there on Sixth Avenue."

Morgan let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure we'll be in touch soon."

Another considerate hum sounded through the phone. "Indeed, we shall. Have a good day, Morgan."

Morgan rolled her lips, tapping her fingertips soundlessly against her desktop.

So that was how it was going to be.

Angela had broken the first name barrier under the guise of a friendly sign off to an amicable conversation, but Morgan saw it for what it was--an attempt to convince Morgan to drop her guard. To make her think that it wasn't personal, that they were just two women trying to make a name for themselves in a male-dominated field.

And it was complete and utter bullshit.

Morgan had no illusions that Angela intended to do anything less than ruin her during this trial. To wear her down until it became a contest of sheer endurance between the two of them. And if the evidence wasn't on the prosecution's side, then Angela would simply set her sights on the witnesses, and maybe even Morgan herself. It would be a bloodbath.

Morgan may have less experience than Angela, and she may be about fifteen years younger than her, but Morgan wasn't an idiot. And she sure as hell hadn't landed this case by being naive.

This conversation had been a test, Angela's first impression of Morgan on a professional level, although Morgan would bet anything that Angela had already done extensive research on her prior to the call.

Morgan huffed out a quiet scoff, fully intending for Angela to hear it.

"You too, Angela," she said, infusing her words with as much exaggerated eagerness as she possibly could.

Morgan knew she didn't imagine the amusement coloring her tone as Angela said, "I'll talk to you soon."

Hanging up the phone, Morgan sat back in her chair, trying to calm her still racing heart.

But the high she was riding crashed to the ground when the sound of a throat clearing pulled her attention to her doorway.

Knowing who she was going to see before she even looked up, she flicked her eyes up to meet the gaze of Ryan Halloway, his head peeking into her office.

"Good morning," he said with what Morgan was sure he thought was a charming smile. He moved further into her office, revealing a brown paper bag clutched in his hand. He set it on her desk with a flourish, looking at her expectantly.

Morgan eyed the bag suspiciously before she looked up at him from her chair, eyebrows raised in question.

"I brought you a bagel from that place you like a few blocks down."

She hummed suspiciously, giving him a tight smile that she knew didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ryan, but I don't have much time to talk. I have a meeting with Joel in about," she glanced at her watch, "ten minutes."

His smile turned sheepish. "That's exactly why I wanted to catch you early," he said. He sank down onto the leather couch in front of her desk, leaning forward, once again trying for that charismatic smile that Morgan was sure many unfortunate women had fallen for once upon a time.

She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an impatient eyebrow at him.

Ryan cleared his throat, reaching up to adjust his tie in a nervous tick that Morgan clocked as strange. Usually, Ryan had an endless and unwarranted amount of confidence regardless of the situation. She steeled herself for whatever it was he was planning on saying.

"I was wondering if you--you and Joel, that is--needed an extra set of eyes for the Sterling case," he said. "It's going to be a cage match, and I think I could be a valuable member of the team."

Morgan almost laughed in his face.

Because the glaringly obvious truth of the matter was that Ryan hated Morgan, and the feeling was entirely mutual.

She wasn't sure if it was because she was a woman or because she was younger than him, but Ryan had seemed to have a chip on his very cold shoulder about her since the day she'd started at the firm.

Or, at least, since the day she had declined his invitation for dinner and drinks. Typical insecure male behavior.

Nevermind the fact that he was at least ten years older than her. Nevermind the fact that Morgan preferred women and had told him as much in an effort to soften the blow of turning him down. Nevermind the fact that he was fucking married with children.

Because even if he hadn't been holding a grudge over her rejection of him romantically, Morgan wouldn't have been his biggest fan.

Being the son of a senior partner at the firm, he had an air of entitlement about him, expecting cases to just fall into his lap without doing any of the actual legwork to land clients.

And now, only when he wanted something from her--to have a spot on the team for the Sterling case--was he going to kiss her ass and try to make up for the years of disrespect and misogynistic bullshit that she'd suffered at his hands.

Over her dead body.

Morgan took a deep breath and counted to ten in her head before she spoke, keeping her voice level. "I see," she said. She folded her hands on the desk in front of her. "Unfortunately, the roster had already been set for the trial. Mr. Sterling has been very clear about who he'd like on his defense team. I'm afraid my hands are tied."

It wasn't a lie. Even if Morgan respected Ryan as a lawyer, it wasn't as if she could snap her fingers and convince her client to allow an attorney that he doesn't know and trust to join the lineup.

The carefully constructed mask Ryan had in place slipped momentarily, and Morgan saw the rage flash behind his cold blue eyes.

He covered it quickly, though, as he ran a hand through his thinning hair.

He swallowed hard, and Morgan took a dark satisfaction in knowing just how difficult it must be for him to swallow his pride and practically beg her for a chance to work this case.

"I was just thinking that you could talk to Mr. Sterling and put in a good word for me?"

Morgan blinked at him. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I allow you to ruin this trial with your subpar skills as an attorney, Ryan." She was done wasting her precious energy this morning on false politeness toward this bloodsucking sponge of a lawyer. She stood from her desk and collected her things for her meeting.

On her way out of the office, she took the bag containing the bagel off of her desk and held it out to him. "While I can appreciate the effort you put into trying to bribe me," she said quietly, "a fucking bagel isn't going to erase our checkered past, Ryan."

His nostrils flared as he snatched the bag away from her, clutching it to his chest with white knuckles.

She led him out of her office, giving him a tight smile and saying, "Have a fantastic day."

"Fuck you," he snarled. He took off down the hallway, disappearing into his own office and slamming the door behind him.

Across the office floor, she made eye contact with Jenn. Morgan gave her an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, and the receptionist hid her giggle behind a manilla folder.

Shaking off that unpleasant interaction, Morgan made her way to the conference room.

The meeting passed in a blur, with Joel taking point to check in with everyone's progress in their respective tasks.

Tuning most of the red tape conversation out, she opened her document with her notes about her upcoming meeting with Edward Sterling, working quietly.

"Morgan."

Morgan's spine straightened as she looked up from her computer to find Joel smiling a patient but exasperated smile at her, waving his hand dramatically in front of her face in an exaggerated attempt to get her attention.

"Hmm?" she asked, distracted.

He spoke slowly and deliberately, making sure he had her attention. "The reservation at Lorenzo's is all set. All you have to do is show up and turn on that charm of yours to make a good impression."

He continued, "She's young, just a few years younger than you, and I think you two will really hit it off."

"Yes, I know," she said with a firm nod. "Dinner tonight with Cassidy. Seven o'clock at Lorenzo's." She gave him a soft smile. "I'll be there."

***

Morgan vaguely registered the sound of women's heels clicking on the tile floor as she finished signing off on a quick email. She slid her phone back into her purse where it was hanging from the back of her chair, the waiter's voice bringing her back to the present.

"Miss Monroe, your other party has arrived." Morgan glanced up to smile at the server, but as she lifted her head, her eyes caught on the pair of devastating legs that were visible next to the black slacks that the waiter was wearing.

Was it possible to recognize a pair of legs? Because she definitely knew those legs.

Morgan's brain still hadn't caught up to what she was seeing as her eyes drifted upward, and she could only imagine that her own face reflected the same astonishment that she was seeing in the face of the woman she had met at the club two weeks ago.

"Harper?" Morgan couldn't hide the shock in her voice. There was no doubt that it was her. As if Morgan could ever forget her radiant blonde hair, its gorgeous strawberry tint unlike anything she had ever seen in someone's natural color before. That hair was down tonight, curling gently around Harper's face to settle just past her shoulders.

She remembered the intelligence behind those intense hazel eyes, the vibrant green surrounding her pupils giving way to the deeper amber and golden shades of her irises. Eyes that were burning holes into her right now as she sat there gaping back at her like a fool.

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