Off The Record Ch. 07

Who's ready for something to actually happen between these two? ;)

All characters are over 18.

***

Harper fiddled anxiously with the gold chain around her neck as she inched closer to the front of the line outside of the massive Marshall & Brooks building on Sixth Avenue. Even just the brief glimpse of partygoers that she had gotten while waiting confirmed that this holiday party was definitely an extremely formal affair. All of the men wore tuxedos, the women donned in a variety of elegant evening gowns or high-end suits.

She had agonized over what to wear, staring at her closet for at least an hour on Friday night before deciding that nothing she owned had been suitable. She'd gone shopping the following morning and had spent an obscene amount of money on the olive green dress she was currently wearing. She knew that it was gorgeous and that it suited her body type, but looking around, she was still worried that she was underdressed.

She was also worried, although her pride wasn't allowing her to fully admit it yet, that a certain brunette wouldn't like it.

That had ultimately been the factor that had driven Harper to leave the coziness of her apartment on a freezing Saturday morning. Morgan's opinion of her mattered to Harper, and she wanted to put effort into the event that she and Joel had so graciously invited her to; she wanted to impress them.

And Harper would be lying if she said that her final decision on the style of dress, with its borderline scandalous leg slit that reached nearly to her hip, wasn't influenced by the foolish thought that it would give Morgan an incredible view of her legs.

After their almost-kiss at her apartment a few nights ago, they'd gotten back to their version of normalcy, texting occasionally about the trial with some light teasing and flirting. They hadn't seen each other since that night, and Harper was so nervous she felt like she was going to vomit.

Harper had no idea what she'd been thinking, taking off her shirt in front of Morgan like that, as if showing her her tattoos was really the only motive she had behind it. And maybe her intentions had been innocent at first.

But when she'd seen the way Morgan was looking at her, eyes darkening as they'd dipped down to her chest, Harper had been so consumed by her want for her that she'd nearly allowed it to go further. She still couldn't believe that she'd had the willpower to stop the kiss before it had started.

And thank god she had, because she'd been this close to dragging Morgan into her bed, and she knew that if she'd gotten a taste of her, she would have.

Morgan had been so achingly sweet and gentle that night, letting Harper open up to her without ever pushing her for more than she was willing to share.

Not to mention the fact that the entire interaction had a much more emotional undertone to it, rather than their typical hypersexual thing that they had.

It was all just too much.

As Harper's small purse was checked by security, she had to remind herself not to nervously run her hands through her hair, which she had painstakingly wrestled into an elegant updo that rested against the nape of her neck, a few well-placed tendrils framing her face. To top off the look, she had taken a conservative approach with her makeup, knowing that the gentle tones of nude and green would work in tandem with her dress to make her eyes pop.

Overall, she felt like she looked good, but the atmosphere of the party was overwhelming. She had never rubbed elbows with so many of the city's elite at once.

From what Morgan had told her, the Marshall & Brooks holiday party was essentially a massive networking event. Usually, it took place closer to Christmas, but due to the Sterling trial and the strain it would be putting on the firm come January, they had scheduled it for earlier in the season this year.

She thanked the security guard and made her way over to the coat check, where she left her heavy winter peacoat. Following the steady stream of people trickling in, she found herself in a large open room that must have been used as a cafeteria of sorts during normal working hours. Her nerves settled more deeply in her stomach as she took in her surroundings. In this room alone, there had to be at least one hundred people milling about.

In addition to the countless immaculately dressed servers making the rounds with trays of various cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, there was a well-stocked bar set up in the back corner near the windows. Harper made a beeline for it, ordering a glass of red wine and taking a moment to collect herself.

She was so out of her element. She needed to find Morgan. Should she text her to let her know she was here? That seemed a little desperate.

Her internal stream of nonsensical stress was muted as Morgan seemed to materialize at one of the high top tables to her right.

Her breath left her in a rush. Morgan looked like a Greek goddess, flawlessly elegant in a deep blue halter dress that reached to about mid-thigh and hugged her curves tastefully. It was deliciously sexy, but still appropriate for a work function. Her long hair was down, cascading over her bare shoulders in soft waves. Harper sighed. It was like she didn't even have to try to look perfect.

Harper couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched Morgan hold court with a group of people who seemed enraptured by every word that left her mouth. She watched that charming dimple appear in her right cheek when she laughed. Harper knew firsthand that those attentive, focused eyes had the power to make whoever she was talking to feel like the most important person in the world.

As if she could feel Harper staring at her across the room, Morgan's head lifted at that moment and their eyes met. The easygoing smile dropped from Morgan's face as she recognized her. Harper threw her a soft smile, and an unreadable expression crossed her features. Harper swore she saw her shoulders rise and fall once with a deep breath. Placing her hand on the shoulder of the woman closest to her and saying something with a small smile, she excused herself and made her way over to Harper.

"You look..." Morgan trailed off, not even trying to be discreet about the way she was taking in everything about Harper's appearance. That sapphire gaze took its time drifting along her frame, and Harper felt her eyes like a physical touch. A thrill passed through her as Morgan's stare lingered just a beat longer on the leg that was protruding from the dress' slit.

"Have I rendered you speechless?" Harper teased. "That must be a first."

Morgan raked her gaze down her body again. Her mouth, sparkling tonight with a subtle lip gloss, twitched upward at the corners. She crossed her arms and exhaled dramatically. "No, there's plenty I could say. But my mom taught me that if I can't say anything appropriate, then I shouldn't say anything at all."

Morgan smirked and raised one perfect eyebrow before leaning in and surprising Harper by wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her lips to her cheek in a soft kiss. She felt goosebumps raise on the back of her neck as Morgan's warm breath hit her ear as she murmured, "You look phenomenal. I'm really glad you came."

Harper leaned back to look at her, and her breath caught in her throat. Where she had expected to see Morgan's usual teasing and flirtatious smirk, there was a gentle smile full of sincerity and something that looked like awe.

Harper felt her cheeks heat as she tried to take the attention off of herself. "And you look..." She gave herself a moment to truly take in what Morgan was wearing up close. She bit her lip and shook her head slightly. "You look fucking lethal, Monroe."

Morgan laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "That Columbia education has truly given you such a way with words," she said. "But, thank you." The slightest blush painted her cheekbones.

"Come on. There are a few people I want you to meet." With a wink, Morgan slid her hand onto Harper's lower back and guided her further into the party.

They spent about an hour making the rounds together, Morgan expertly making introductions and driving conversations. It was fascinating to see her interact with people in this capacity; she remembered at least one personal detail about everyone they spoke to, and Harper found herself smiling along with the guests whenever Morgan surprised them with a question about their families or their personal business ventures. It was no wonder she was so successful.

Harper was humbled by the number of people who had read her work, with one woman even admitting to her that she had been following her since she was a beat reporter.

By the time she and Morgan finally spotted Joel and his wife at a table and joined them to decompress and get another drink, Harper had already exchanged contact information with at least a dozen people.

"You both look absolutely stunning tonight," Joel said with a kind smile as he pulled Harper in for a hug. "Harper, I don't think you've met my wife, Rachel."

"It's so nice to meet you," she said, shaking the older woman's hand.

"Likewise," Rachel said. Her eyes radiated warmth, and Harper liked her immediately.

Their group made small talk for a bit, with a few others trickling in to join and then leave sporadically, with Joel being a hot commodity among the other guests. Harper was more than happy to remain on the periphery of the conversations, observing more than anything, contributing a comment here and there when it made sense.

Harper had just opened her mouth to jump in on a particularly interesting conversation about the city's history when she felt Morgan's hand land on her upper thigh. She squeezed gently to get her attention, as if anything other than the warm press of Morgan's fingertips into her dress could capture Harper's full focus.

Harper turned sharply to look at her, and let out a small sound of surprise when she realized just how close Morgan's face was to hers. They almost brushed noses as Morgan reeled back, her eyes widening at Harper's sudden movement.

"What are you doing?" Harper asked quietly enough so no one else at the table could hear her.

"I was trying to whisper to you." Morgan raised an amused eyebrow at her. "What did you think I was doing?"

Harper leveled a glare at her, willing herself not to stare at those plush lips. She turned back to the table, not trusting herself to speak.

She felt Morgan's lips brush against the shell of her ear as she said, "If I had a dollar for every time we've almost kissed." Harper clenched her jaw even as a wave of heat rolled through her. Morgan increased the pressure of her hand ever so slightly.

"Anyway," she continued in a playful tone, "The guy approaching the table right now--sandy brown hair, stupid hat--is an asshole. I like you too much not to warn you. He's more than likely going to hit on you, because well, look at you. Also, we despise each other. So if you're picking up on some tension, that would be why."

Harper turned and blinked at her, trying to absorb all of the information that had just been rapidly fired at her, but Morgan had already leaned back in her chair and schooled her expression into one of casual disinterest.

"Joel, it's so good to see you," the man said as he took the last remaining seat at the table. "And your lovely wife of course."

Harper immediately clocked his too charming smile full of teeth far too perfect to be natural.

"Ryan," Joel said back, inclining his head in a simple, polite greeting.

Ryan's gaze slid over to Morgan and his dark eyes hardened into an icy stare as he gave her a tight smile and said, "Monroe."

Morgan just smiled tightly and raised her glass.

His gaze finally found Harper, and his head cocked to the side, brow furrowed in thought.

"I don't think we've met," he said, standing to extend his hand to her. Harper stood to accept his handshake and she had to fight to keep the revulsion from her expression as his eyes crawled down her body before he let go of her hand. "I definitely would have remembered."

"Harper Cassidy," she said simply. She pulled her hand back, desperate to get out of his grip.

Ryan's eyes flashed with recognition. He snapped his fingers. "Right, you're the embedded journalist for the Sterling case. I hope your experience working with the firm has been positive so far." He threw a not-so-subtle dirty look in Morgan's direction. "I know some people are hesitant to work with lawyers given the reputations we can have."

Another smarmy smile directed at her.

"I think the same can be said for journalists," Harper said with a self-deprecating smile. "But Morgan has been amazing," she added confidently.

"Has she?" The simple question didn't sit right with Harper. She tilted her head at him, daring him to elaborate. Throughout her career, she'd found that when given the option between silence and filling a gap in conversation, the majority of people would continue talking.

In this case, it worked, Ryan falling right into Harper's trap. His smile oozed false innocence as he continued. "I only mean that Monroe has never worked a case this big before in her very young career. It's amazing that the firm is giving her such a vote of confidence by appointing her to lead counsel." His tone implied that he believed it was anything but, and Harper couldn't shake the feeling that she was being used as a pawn in some sort of weird power play.

Harper shared a knowing glance with Morgan as the missing pieces fell into place. He was envious of her and what her hard work had earned her. And he had expected this case to be handed to him due to seniority rather than merit. Harper had met too many people like him in her own field. Too many writers who had expected the big story to be handed to them on a silver platter simply because they were the longest tenured journalist in the building.

"Talk about a backhanded compliment," Harper said before she could think about it.

Everyone's head swung toward her. She could feel Morgan's eyes burning into the side of her face but she refused to break eye contact with Ryan.

He narrowed his eyes on her. "I didn't mean anything by it." He held up his hands in mock innocence.

Harper drank deeply from her wineglass, taking her time formulating her response. She pasted on a fake smile. "Really? You didn't?"

Ryan cleared his throat, clearly growing more uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to speak, but Harper wasn't all that interested in what he had to say. "Because it sounds like you're trying to undermine her and embarrass her in front of your boss."

Ryan's beady little eyes momentarily shot toward Joel, who was watching the exchange, his face an unreadable mask.

Harper smirked at Ryan, and she watched him struggle to disguise the rage that flickered across his face at her confrontational behavior. He was pissed, but she had him backed into a corner, and he knew it. He couldn't lose his composure in front of Joel.

Ryan hesitated a moment longer before speaking again. "I'm sure that the firm is fully aware of how crucial certain choices are." He threw Morgan a barely-concealed sneer, and Harper's blood boiled. "And the potential consequences of those choices." He held his hands out in front of him. "I guess we'll all see soon enough in court, right?" He clicked his tongue. "I only wish I could contribute to the uphill battle our team will be fighting."

Harper hummed, her shoulders tightening in irritation. "Well, you know what they say, Ryan. It's easy to be jealous of what someone has, but it's a lot harder be jealous of what they had to do to get it." In her peripheral vision, she thought she saw Morgan smiling into her drink.

Ryan barked out a sharp laugh. "Well, unfortunately, times have changed a bit. Gone are the days where you need more than just a pretty face to make a good impression." The bitterness was clear in his expression and his tone. Apparently he was done playing nice.

Harper felt her eyebrows shoot into her hairline as her jaw dropped. He couldn't possibly be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. Harper glanced around their circle to gauge reactions and see if there was any chance she had misheard. When she looked at Morgan, she only rolled her eyes and gave a nearly imperceptible shrug of her shoulders. Like she was used to these types of comments.

And that made Harper see red.

Harper typically prided herself on being a remarkably patient, kind person. She was always willing to give people, especially strangers, the benefit of the doubt. But when she looked back at Ryan's smug face, searing hot anger coiled in the pit of her stomach and she had to take a deep breath through her nose to keep her voice even.

"I'm sorry," she began, "but are you actually implying that Morgan is lead-counsel on this case because of her looks?"

The vitriol in her voice surprised even her.

Ryan blinked at her.

But Harper didn't really want him to answer.

She continued, "Morgan, the Stanford University law school graduate, who not only got in on early admission, but also graduated at the top of her class a semester early? The woman who worked hard enough to ensure that she had an internship every summer throughout college to bolster her resume?"

Harper took a healthy swig of her wine and couldn't help but begin spouting off the statistics that she had learned through her research months ago, before she had really even started to get to know Morgan. The statistics that had convinced her to take this job.

"The clientele at this law firm has increased by sixty percent since Morgan started working here; and maybe that could have been a coincidence, if seventy-five percent of all new clients hadn't worked with Morgan herself, even if only peripherally. It's delusional of you to even suggest that you deserve to be lead counsel on this case, considering the fact that the firm wouldn't even have landed it if Morgan hadn't spent the past two years cultivating a relationship with the Innocence Project and building rapport with countless clients and contacts. She has taken on more pro bono cases than everyone else here combined, and every person I've asked about her couldn't sing her praises enough."

Harper looked hard at Ryan, who had started to shrink into himself. "You are so wrong. In fact, Ryan, I think the only thing you are even remotely correct about is just how incredibly good she looks while she shatters the glass ceiling over and over again. Maybe if you focused on yourself instead of disparaging a woman a decade younger than you, you'll earn a case of this magnitude some day too."

Harper finally stopped to take a breath and realized that everyone in their general vicinity was gaping at her. Rachel looked fully uncomfortable next to Joel, whose eyes shone with amusement as his gaze shifted between herself, Ryan, and Morgan.

Harper couldn't even take a moment to enjoy the satisfaction that she felt as she took in the shocked and humiliated look on Ryan's face as her own mortification set in. She locked eyes with Morgan, whose lips were parted in surprise at Harper's outburst. One corner of her mouth ticked up slightly, her cobalt gaze searching Harper's. But no one said anything, and the silence stretched out until it became unbearable.

She needed air.

Harper cleared her throat. Like a knight in shining armor, a caterer appeared at that exact moment offering a tray of drinks. Harper swapped her empty wineglass for a fresh one and stood abruptly. "Excuse me."

Harper rushed away through the crowd, making a beeline for the bathroom. She took about five minutes to compose herself before she realized there was no way in hell she could go back to the party after losing her cool like that.

She looked in the mirror and searched the hazel eyes that looked back at her. No, she thought. She would go back to the party. Because if she didn't, it would send the message that she was embarrassed by what she had said, and she wasn't. Because it had all been true, and Morgan deserved to have someone who was unapologetically in her corner. Harper smoothed her hands down her dress and took a deep breath. She just needed a few more minutes.

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