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Lola made a face like loyalty did not compute before her shit-eating grin fell away. It figured that Lola would destroy someone’s stability and livelihood for something that wasn’t their fault. She was an expert at assigning blame to all the wrong places.
“Maybe we should get your mother over here,” Lola continued like she’d already planned what she was going to say and rehearsed it on her way there. “See how funny she thinks your attempt at a joke—”
“You can’t be serious.” Carmen cut her off with a laugh, noticing the envelope in her hand and catching up to Lola’s distorted perspective.
The sound of someone turning on the coffee machine prompted Carmen to grab Lola by the wrist and pull her inside. Lola took two steps into the office, making just enough room for Carmen to close the door behind her.
“What? You came all the way here and now you’re scared to be in my office?” Carmen teased when Lola looked like she was holding her breath.
“Like I’d ever be scared of you,” Lola snapped, but it was obvious from her body language that she felt strange in her space. Like it had only just dawned on her that her stupid ploy might work and she’d actually end up there.
“Do you ever think anything through?” Carmen asked, standing inches from her, wishing — not for the first time — that she understood how her mind worked. “What did you think was going to happen when you stormed in here?”
Lola’s expression darkened. It was a rainstorm rushing in without warning, all crashing lightning and rumbling thunder. She flicked her gaze to hers. Just a fraction of an inch, that’s all Carmen had on her, but in moments like this — close together and crackling with potential energy — Carmen felt every millimeter of that inch and used it to her advantage.
“What did you expect, Lola?” Carmen’s voice was more of a whisper than she intended. She’d circled too close to Lola’s orbit. Miscalculated her own plan.
It was hard to distinguish her emotions when Lola was close enough for Carmen to smell her perfume. Surprisingly masculine, the fragrance would cling to Carmen’s clothes if she were reckless enough to touch her.
Wanting Lola, even now, was beyond insane. Carmen hated how her body reacted to her despite clear signals from her brain not to. Hated that the more impossible Lola acted, the more intense, the more addictive she became.
The month they’d been apart had been dull and gray. A distant hum of deafening silence was a backdrop to her drudgery and obligation.
And then there was Lola, with her maddening absurdity. Her ability to vibrate with passion and emotion about absolutely everything. Her habit of making Carmen feel alive and powerful and like she was choosing her own damn life — even if it was obviously a mistake. It was hers to make.
Carmen stepped back. She had bigger problems than Lola right now.
While Carmen strode back to her desk, giving her enemy her back, Lola seemed to remember what the hell she’d darkened her doorstep for.
“I’m going to report you to the bar, you know?” Lola threatened, her voice too loud, her threat too empty.
Carmen stopped short and turned. “For what?” She tried to laugh, but in truth there were several things she’d done around Lola — and on top of her — that called into question her character and fitness to be a member of the bar.
“For this shit.” Lola held up the manila envelope. “Forging a court clerk’s stamp? That has to be illegal—”
Carmen laughed. “Not even you can be that paranoid.” She reached across the front of her desk and picked up the same envelope — though hers was now empty. “I was served too, you—”
“That’s not possible,” Lola snapped, olive skin flushing violently. “This can’t be real—”
“Oh, it’s real—”
“Five hundred million dollars?” Lola screeched. “Defamation of character? It’s not true—”
“That’s a different issue,” Carmen said, finding stability in the tangible legal issue at hand. Elements and burdens of proof she understood. Too bad there wasn’t an online guide to demystifying Lola. “But she sure did file this complaint.”
Lola drew her dark brows together and Carmen wondered whether she had them shaped every day to keep them perfect. “But we didn’t say anything untrue. If Bamford fired her as her Svengali, it was because of what she did, not what we said.”
“And that’s the substance of a motion to dismiss or a motion for summary judgment. I haven’t finished reading the—”
“Fuck no,” Lola objected so loud it made Carmen grateful she didn’t have neighbors. “I’m not paying a lawyer thousands of dollars to entertain this shit. A judge will see this is—”
“You’re a lot of things, but I didn’t think naïve was one of them.” Carmen crossed the small office again, but she left a safe amount of space between them.
Lola doubled down with a shake of her head. “A judge will see this for what it is. Absolute bullshit and rife with false accusations.”
“Judges rule on what’s in front of them,” Carmen corrected, annoyed that Lola was pretending to know more about the legal system than her.
“Yeah, but this is frivolous on its face,” Lola shot back.
