That night, Jack asked Claire for dinner, but she turned him down, saying, "I have some Christmas shopping to take care of tonight."
He nodded. "For me?"
"Who says I'm getting you anything?" she asked, trying to keep the teasing tone from her voice.
"You're not?" he asked, "Well then I may just have to take yours back."
"Don't you dare!" she warned.
"Okay....calm down, Greedy."
"You're lucky we're at work or I'd make you pay for that remark," she told him.
"Oh? And just how would you do that?"
"Call me Greedy again when we're away from here and you'll find out..."
They headed for the parking garage together, walking toward their vehicles, which they had taken to parking next to each other whenever possible. Today it had been possible. Standing between Jack's bike, and the driver side of Claire's car, they glanced around. There were still a fair amount of cars in the garage, as it was only 6 pm, and therefore early as far as Adam Schiff's ADAs were concerned, but for the time being, they were the only two people.
Jack glanced quickly around as he moved in closer and lowered his lips to hers for a brief, delightful kiss.
"Have a good night," he told her.
"I'll call when I get home," she told him, then stretched her neck to kiss him quickly. She turned and opened her car and for in, Jack closing the door after her. He watched as she drove away, then got on his bike and headed for home.
*****
Claire drove to the address in Brooklyn the woman had given her on the phone earlier that morning.
When Jack had left her apartment the previous evening, she had gone to have a bath before bed. While sitting in the warm, soothing water, she had made a decision. She had already purchased a set of antique, miniature scales for him for Christmas, and had been wanting to give him something else, something perhaps a little less cool and impersonal, but hadn't been able to figure out just what that should be. She had considered buying him a sweater, she had seen him in one once or twice and liked the look of him, but that too seemed.... she couldn't put her finger on it... but it had something to do with the fact that anyone could buy him a sweater... anyone could buy a lawyer, especially one as interested in justice as Jack was (despite his claims to the contrary at times) a set of scales.
When he'd told her about the stray that had followed him home, and what had happened afterward, an idea had begun to form in her head. She decided to get him a puppy. It was something he wouldn't have gone out and done for himself, and though she knew it wouldn't make up for what had happened that horrible night when he was a little boy... the idea just seemed so perfect. It would give him companionship, as Lucy had done for her.
She was the first person he'd trusted enough to share that story with, and she got it into her head that a puppy from her would be not only a considerate gesture, but a symbolic way of letting him know that while she wanted him to acknowledge and face his past, she also wanted him to look forward to the future, to the new, happy memories they would create, hopefully, together.
So, in the morning, she had looked in the New York Times classifieds, under "pets" and had found a dozen or so ads offering puppies, some free, some going for upwards of $500 dollars: there were pit bulls, German Shepherds, poodles, Chow-chows, Beagles, Border Collies and several others. Most of the dogs would grow to be too big for city living (Claire firmly believed that large dogs didn't belong living in apartments), and she just couldn't see Jack with a little dog like a poodle or a Chihuahua (she wouldn't be able to take their yapping, she knew, and Jack generally had even less patience than she did).
The last dog-related ad was for a set of puppies that were a black lab, cocker spaniel mix. Claire remembered that one of her mother's neighbours at the farm she and Mac owned upstate had a dog that was a mix of a golden lab and a spaniel, and though she was more of a cat-lover herself, she had always thought that dog was adorable.
She had brought the paper to work with her, and called the number, telling the woman who answered that she was interested in getting a puppy for her boyfriend for Christmas, and could she please come by that evening to see the puppies. The woman had been delighted, and Claire said she'd see her later that evening.
She pulled up in front of a two story brownstone that seemed to have quite a large backyard, walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
A woman near here own age answered the door, a 2 year old toddling alone behind her.
"Mrs. Grant? Hi, I'm Claire Kincaid...we spoke on the phone this morning about the puppies?"
"Oh, yes, Ms. Kincaid, please, come in," said the woman, as she stooped to pick up her small child. "Come on through here."
She led Claire down the hall, saying, "My husband and I wish we could keep them all...they're so adorable, but we've already got the two parents, who, by the way, are now going to be fixed."
They entered a laundry room filled with 4 of the most adorable little dogs Claire had ever seen. 3 of them were black, one with a hint of red when the light shown on it just right, and 1 was a tan colour.
"We're going to keep the tan one," the woman, "For Shane here to grow up with."
The woman had set up a toddler-gate to keep the puppies in the room, and one of the puppies, the one with the red tint to it, came over and stood on it's hind legs, little front paws against the fence, and looked up at Claire with it's big chocolate coloured eyes. She was lost. The puppy had chosen her. She bent down and scooped it up, cradling it in her arms as it nuzzled up under her chin.
"Looks like you've found your boyfriend's puppy, Ms. Kincaid," said the woman.
"Please, call me Claire."
"And I'm Jennie."
Both women adjusted the burdens they held (Claire, the puppy, Jennie, her son) and held their hands out to shake hands.
"How old did you say these puppies are?" asked Claire.
"8 weeks, they've been weaned, and we took them for their first shots last Friday."
Claire nodded.
"Do you want him?" Jennie asked her.
"Oh yes," replied Claire. "He's adorable... Can I take him tonight?"
"Sure....let me give you some food so you don't have to stop on the way home."
"Thank you."
*****
She carried the puppy home in a cardboard pet crate Jennie Grant had given her, smiling the whole way home. Suddenly, in the elevator, she considered how Lucy was going to react to the rambunctious little dog. She grew slightly worried.
She took the puppy into the kitchen and put a plastic bowl out with some food, and one with water, and set him down. He began to eat, and she set about making a little bed out of the cardboard carrying case Jennie had given her. She took a couple of older towels and put them in the box, which she had laid on top of a some newspaper she'd laid out for the puppy to go on. She remembered hearing once that a good way to accustom a puppy to a new place was to wrap an old ticking-alarm clock in a towel or blanket and lay it in the puppy's bed. The ticking sound would be soothing and remind the puppy instinctually of what it was like to be in the womb. She did all of this, and then went to quickly change her clothes so she could come out and play with the puppy.
Lucy, having been in the kitchen eating when Claire pulled the puppy from the box, and had run from the room, was hiding in one of her many "secret" spots. Claire hoped she wouldn't be too bent out of shape, but then, the puppy would only be in her possession until Saturday, or Sunday at the latest.
Later, when she was ready for bed, Claire, hoping she'd tired the little wiggly bundle of fur out, set him in the box, and headed for her nightly bath. She had been soaking for a nearly 10 minutes when she heard the little cries of the puppy coming from her kitchen. She tuned it out at first, confident he would go back to sleep.
He cried throughout her bath. After, Claire climbed into bed, still hoping the little dog would eventually stop his pathetic cries. She was able to take it for about 15 minutes, then tossed the covers back and walked down the hall to the kitchen.
The puppy was sitting outside his box, which he'd tipped over, when trying to get out, she imagined. She bent down and picked the whimpering puppy up and cradled him against her chest. He reached up to nuzzle under her neck and instantly ceased his whining. Claire smiled.
"You're not going to let me sleep, tonight, are you?"
As if in response, the little pup licked her. She laughed, and carried him back into her bedroom, climbed into her bed, and set the puppy on the spare pillow.
She rubbed his tummy, and in a few minutes, he was off to sleep. Shortly thereafter, Claire too fell asleep.
In the morning, she awoke to the puppy still dozing on the pillow next to hers, and Lucy sleeping soundly at her feet.
Before leaving for work, she made sure the puppy had food and water for the day, as well as fresh newspaper. She put Lucy's food and water on the counter to protect it from consumption by the puppy. Claire shut the swinging door of her kitchen, paying no attention to the kitty door, and headed into the office.
*****
That Tuesday morning, the week went to hell for Jack and Claire.
They were working on the wording of a motions brief that was due in Judge Rodriguez chambers first thing the following morning. They had been going back and forth over a particular section....Claire, cautious as usual after being censured over the appearance of impropriety when she'd been investigating Joel Thayer all those months ago, was trying to get Jack to offer a little more information than he was willing to give.
In the end, he had come to acquiesce to her wishes. "Alright," he told her, "We'll try it your way this time. See how it goes."
Claire had excused herself, and headed for the ladies' room.
She had just entered a stall when two giggling women came in behind her, talking to each other conspiratorially.
"Hey Sarah, did you see the look on Kincaid's face when she came out of McCoy's office just now?" said one to the other.
So, they had seen her come out of Jack's office, but must not have seen where she'd gone. Surely no one would be crass enough to discuss her knowing she were listening 5 feet away.
"Yeah, Kris, I did, why?"
"She looked pretty satisfied....I wonder what they were doing."
Both laughed, as Claire winced. She knew the expression on her face had been one of self-satisfaction, but it was because she'd just gotten Jack to play the game her way for a time... not because they had been doing anything improper in his office.
"Ya think? I've heard rumours about McCoy and his assistants, but do you really think Kincaid would go for him?"
"She did have that affair with a judge when she was a clerk at the Court of Appeals," said one, "Besides, last Friday night, after the party, I was standing outside with Chet, having a smoke, and I saw the two of them go into the hotel next door."
"No way, Kris!" said Sarah. "Together? Really?"
"Swear to God," said Kris, who was, Claire realised, the Kristine Watkins Chet had brought with him to the Christmas party. "They were holding hands."
"What'd Chet say?"
"Chet? He didn't say anything. Actually, he tried telling me it wasn't them, but I know what I saw. Besides... I love Chet to death, but he's so obviously smitten with the great Claire Kincaid, he wouldn't hear anything that could possibly knock the golden halo from her head."
Claire winced again.
"I'm sensing some sour grapes, there, Kris," said her companion. "What have you got against Kincaid....she seems nice enough, if a little cold. She certainly does her job well."
"Is she good at her job? She's sleeping with her boss...seems to me she earned her position on her back."
Claire's vision blurred slightly. Who the hell was this girl? She wanted to throttle her, to burst from the stall and cry out, "I had my job long before I started working for Jack. I was Ben Stone's assistant first, and I certainly didn't sleep with him!"
"Kris...you don't know what you're talking about. You haven't been around here very long. If Kincaid and McCoy ARE an item, well, it's not the smartest thing in the world for them to be doing, but in all fairness, she was an assistant to an EADA before she was assigned to McCoy. I don't know if you know anything about Ben Stone, but he certainly was too sanctimonious to have had an affair with anyone in this office, let alone his assistant. And Mr. Schiff approves of McCoy and Kincaid as a team....certainly she's not sleeping with HIM."
"I don't understand what men see in her. She's an ice-queen."
"Kris....you're my friend. I like you, therefore, I feel like I can say this to you," said Sarah. "I think you're jealous of Kincaid because you want Chet Williams, and he's got a thing for her. If she is with McCoy, it seems to me you'd be thrilled. Chet is fair game. Tell me something....have you mentioned what you saw on Friday night to anyone else?"
"To one or two others," she replied.
Sarah laughed. "Which, knowing you my dear, probably means 10 or 20."
Claire's heart sank. 10 or 20 others? The rumour mill in the DA's office would have a field day with this juicy tidbit.
The two women left the restroom, and Claire sat in the stall for another minute, part of her was fuming, part of her was worried about the consequences when word of the affair made it's way around, and yet, a small part of her was relieved that they wouldn't have to hide it anymore. She pushed the part that was happy away, and focused on the anger and worry she felt. She was trying to focus on damage control.
Claire emerged, and after a moment, headed out into the hall, holding her head high. If she was going to be the topic of discussion, if her personal life was going to be put on display again, if she was going to be regarded with contempt or scorn, at least she wouldn't have to let them know it bothered her.
She walked into Jack's office, and resumed her position opposite him at his desk. For his part, Jack, not knowing what had caused it, noticed the shift in her mood and demeanor.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"You sure about that?" he asked again, his voice a little more quiet. He was looking directly at her, face a mask of concern. "The temperature in this room dropped significantly when you came back in."
"So you think I'm an Ice Queen too?" she snapped, not knowing why she'd just chosen to take her frustration out on him.
"Excuse me?" he asked.
"Nevermind."
"No.....tell me what you meant."
"Drop it, Jack."
"No. You walk out of here fine. You're gone five minutes, you come back in snapping at me. I'm assuming something happened in the interim between when you left and when you came back in, and I want to know what it was."
"Stop it, Jack. We're at work. Let's work."
Jack stood up and walked over to the clothes' rack in the corner. He rolled his sleeves back down and buttoned them, fixed his shirt and tie, and took his suit coat from the hanger and put it on. He walked to Claire and gripped her arm, pulling her up from the chair.
"C'mon."
"What're you doing?" she asked, anger mounting.
"Taking you to lunch....Someplace away from here so we can talk."
"I don't want to go to lunch with you."
A pained expression passed over his face for just a moment. Claire caught it, but at the moment, she didn't care. The glass house she and Jack and their relationship had been functioning in was about to come crashing in around them. She wasn't at all prepared to deal with the ramifications of their affair being made public, didn't want to deal with people's misconceptions, with the ugly insinuations about how she'd slept her way into her position. Jack was an easy target for couple of reasons: he was the only one with her at the moment, and she could blame him and his pursuit of her for the blots that were about to mar her character.
"Jesus Christ, Claire," he said. She was acting erratic. She'd never turned him down for lunch before, and he had not expected her to do so with such cruelty the first time she did. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"We're going to talk about it," he told her.
She started to back away from him, but he still had hold of her upper arm. He advanced even as she retreated, gripping her arm even tighter.
"Like you talk to me about Koppel?" she threw back at him. His eyes grew dark and she looked down at where his hand held her arm. "Jack...You're hurting me... and people can see."
He instantly released her and she began to gather her papers, shoving them into her attaché case in a swift, yet organised fashion. She needed to get out, to get away from the office. Away from Jack. She needed to think.
"What're you doing?" he asked, incredulous.
"I have some witness interviews and them I'm taking the day."
He stepped into her way as she started for the door.
"Claire..." he began.
"Jack," she nearly pleaded, "Please... I need to be alone for while before these interviews."
"Fine," he said, growing angry himself.
He moved aside and she breezed by him, out the door, and toward the elevator, stopping at her cubicle for her coat and purse.
*****
In the parking garage, Claire got into her car, tossing her coat and attaché case onto the passenger seat. She put the key in the ignition and started her car. She shut it off after a moment, and rested her head on her hands, which rested on the wheel so that her thumbs were touching each other.
"What're you doing, Claire?" she asked herself. "Why does the idea of people finding out about you and Jack displease you so much?"
She sat that way for a long time, but no answer came to her. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, started her car, and headed out to her appointments.
*****
To say Jack was perplexed by her behaviour was to put it mildly. In sober truth, he was not merely perplexed or confused... he was baffled.
They had a wonderful weekend together, a nice hour long telephone conversation the night before, and everything had been fine that morning. Until, that is, she'd come back from the bathroom, spitting nails.
He threw himself into his work for several hours, pausing only to order lunch, and briefly when the food arrived.
Just after 3:00. Adam walked into his office.
"Where's Claire?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "Witness interviews."
"I had hoped to talk to the two of you together, but it looks like you'll have to relay the conversation."
Jack sat back in his chair and took Adam in. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he was looking in Jack's general direction, thought not at Jack himself.
"What is it, Adam?"
"Ah... I don't particularly like the idea of discussing this with you...especially in light of some of the conversations we've had in the past... but evidently...the night of the Christmas party... You and Ms. Kincaid were spotted heading into the Waldorf Towers together. Arm in arm."
So...... was that what was bothering Claire, Jack wondered. She must have over heard someone discussing it.
"Do you know who it was?"
"So it's not just a rumour?" asked Adam.
"No...it's not just a rumour. We were there."
"How long have you...How long has this been going on?"
"Since the Talbert case went to the jury," Jack replied.
"So... Before we had that conversation in your apartment?"
Jack nodded.
"Why the deception? Why go to the party and pretend not to be together?"
"We were trying to keep a lid on it as long as possible, although we knew it was simply postponing the inevitable: the snickers, the snide remarks, the people saying she's just another notch in my bedpost or that she slept her way into her position, or that I'm an old fool trying to recapture his youth through an affair with a younger woman. It was an attempt on our part to insulate the relationship while still in it's developmental stage."
"I can understand that," said Adam slowly, evenly. "However, I seem to remember having had conversation with you shortly after I made you an EADA, when Diana Hawthorne left this office after your relationship with her ended, in which you swore that from now on, your assistants were off-limits. And a similar one several months ago when you requested I assign Claire to you after Ben Stone handed in his resignation."
"I remember them vividly," replied Jack.
"You remember... but you chose to disregard, is that it?"
"I don't know what you expect me to say, Adam. I'm not going to apologise. This wasn't planned. I didn't seduce Claire or pursue her or take advantage of her in any way. There is nothing illicit or sordid about our relationship." He stopped for a moment, and then continued. "This is not like it was with the others...this is..."
"Different?" offered Adam knowingly. "I've heard this speech before, Jack. Sally Bell was different. Diana Hawthorne couldn't have been more different."
Jack stood and turned toward the window.
"I'm not sure how to respond to that Adam. Yes, Sally was different than Kathy, and Diana was different than Sally, and yes, Claire is different than all three of them. So of course my relationships with them were all different, just like it is with Claire.
"With Claire," he continued, "With Claire it's more than just the physical differences, even more than the character and personality differences. The way I feel about Claire, the way she makes me feel, crazy and out of control, and yet so certain, is all new to me. There's a peace when I'm with Claire, Adam... and a joy. Neither of which I've ever known before."
"All that in the space of three or four weeks, eh?" asked Adam wryly.
"I'm not getting any younger, Adam. I've wasted so much of my life --on the personal level, anyway-- I don't want to waste any more... I can't afford to."
Adam looked hard at Jack for a moment, his voice and demeanor were certainly sincere. He hoped Jack meant what he said. It was obvious in the way he spoke of Claire that he cared for her very much indeed.
"Do me a favour, will you?" asked Adam. "And God knows, I don't ask that much of you. Make it work this time? I don't want to lose another good ADA to your libido."
"I intend to make it work, Adam." said Jack.
Adam walked out of the office, and Jack picked up the phone and dialed Claire's number.
No answer.
*****
Claire went through the motions of her interviews, listening and taking notes without really noting what was being said to her.
"Thank God for my recorder," she thought later, knowing it would allow her to go back and revisit all that the witnesses had said to her.
She finished around 3 and headed for home.
When she got home, the puppy had managed to escape the kitchen, and had shredded a pillow lying on the floor near the large windows in her living room. He had also peed on her hardwood floor.
Claire heard a hissing in the kitchen and turned in time to see Lucy come flying out of the kitty door, the puppy hot on her heals. Seeing Claire, the puppy bounced his little way over to her, tail wagging furiously, curly ears flopping on the side of it's tiny head.
She began to scold him, but looking down into his sad puppy-dog eyes, she didn't have the heart.
"Bad puppy," she said, her voice in no way threatening.
She was going to have to come up with a better plan to keep him confined while she was at work. She remembered the child safety gate the Grants had used for this purpose, and decided to go get one, and clean up when she got back.
She scooped up the wiggling little bundle, and strode down the hall, through her bedroom, on through to the master bath. She shut the door, leaving him inside.
Lucy glared at her from the bed. Claire went over and sat next to her, scratching Lucy under the chin the way she knew her cat loved.
"Ahhh, Lucia," Claire said to the cat, "Como va? Are you jealous?"
Claire picked up her cat to snuggle for a few minutes, "You know no one will replace you in my affection."
The puppy began to whine from behind the bathroom door. Lucy, annoyed, struggled to be let down. Claire released her, laughing slightly as her cat ran from the room.
*****
The puppy slept with Claire again that night. As she lay in bed scratching his soft, chubby tummy lightly with her nails, she regretted her behaviour toward Jack earlier that day. Regretted, too, the fact that she hadn't picked up her phone that night, even when she'd heard him leaving messages for her. She knew she'd hurt his feelings.
She felt bad for having lashed out at him so cruelly when it wasn't him with whom she was angry. In fact, the truth was she wasn't really angry at all. It was hard to put her finger on it, but it seemed to her that what was really bothering her was not the fact that their relationship was only a hair's breadth away from being common knowledge (if a dozen or so people already knew, it wouldn't be very long before EVERYONE in the office knew). She was upset because she and Jack had not been the ones to inform whomever they pleased. A private part of her life was about to be made public (she hated when that happened), and not only had she --they-- been given no say in the matter, but they had not even known about it until it was too late to try and head it off at the pass.
All she could do now was deal with whatever fallout would ensue.
She determined to go in and apologise to Jack for making such an ass of herself, first thing in the morning.
*****
In the morning, Claire propped the swinging kitchen door open and set up the safety gate, leaving the door open so Lucy would be able to get in for her food and water.
She left food and water on the floor for the puppy again, as well as several toys she had bought at a pet store the previous evening on her way back from buying the safety gate, and headed in to work.
*****
Jack was not in his office when she got in, and he had left her no messages. She knew he had already been there that morning, because his jeans were hanging on the clothes' rack in the corner. She sat at her desk and pulled several files from her attaché case and began to transcribe the tapes she had made during her interviews the previous afternoon. She would be heading over to do arraignment hearings shortly.
Several minutes into her task, Adam stopped by her cubicle. He cleared his throat, startling her.
"Adam.... hello."
"Good morning, Claire," he said. "Did you speak to Jack at all last night?"
She shook her head, having no knowledge of the conversation that had passed between Jack and Adam. "Last night?" she asked innocently. "Why would I?"
"Claire...don't bother," he told her. "I know."
"You know?"
Adam nodded.
"Oh."
Adam glanced around, stepped further into her cubicle, and lowered his voice.
"I'm not thrilled about it, but what can I do? I've seen the fallout from Jack and his assistants before, and it isn't pretty. However, you're both adults, and what you do outside this office concerns no one but the two of you. Provided it doesn't effect your work. So far, it hasn't, and in all honesty, the two of you seem to have done quite well keeping a lid on it thus far. I would never have known had you not been seen together last Friday night," he said. "If you continue to remain as circumspect as you have until now, I don't see a problem. And don't worry too much about the rumour mill. In a week or so, there will be some new scandal to talk about, and the heat will be off of you and Jack."
Claire smiled a small smile. He didn't seem angry, and he had said nothing about assigning her to another EADA.
"Are you giving us your blessing, then, Adam?"
"My reserved blessing... and my sincere wish that neither of you gets hurt down the road."
He made to leave.
"Adam?"
He turned back to her.
"Do you know where Jack is now?"
"He had a meeting in Judge Walter's chambers."
"Thank you."
He inclined his head and made his way back to his office.
Jack did not return before it was time for her to head over to do arraignments, and so she left, promising herself to talk to him as soon as she had that chance.
*****
She returned just after lunch, and Jack was still not in his office. She waited until the last possible moment before heading off to do another witness interview, in the vain hope that Jack would return soon.
He did not, and so she left.
When she got back this time, he was here, on the phone, engaged in what seemed to be a very heated discussion. He was looking at her, and so she smiled. Instead of smiling back, he swiveled around in his chair. She frowned and sat down at her desk.
She waited a few minutes, and the rose slightly out of her chair. Jack was off the phone, and standing facing the window, staring out at the people below.
Perplexed, she stood and walked to his office, opening the door without knocking, as was her custom.
He must not have heard her enter for he did not turn around.
"Jack?" she inquired.
He seemed startled to find her there when he turned around.
"Haven't you heard of knocking before entering someone's office?"
Claire was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"I'd appreciate it if you learned to knock.. occasionally...if it isn't too much trouble for you."
"I thought we'd dispensed with such formalities long ago."
"It's customary to knock before entering a room...particularly your boss' office. It's also polite. You should try it sometime."
He was picking a fight with her, much the same as she had done with him the previous day. And she wanted to know why. She also wanted to snap him out of whatever was bothering him so that she might apologise and have him heed it.
"Will my faux-pas be excused if I tell you I came in here to talk to my boyfriend and not my boss?"
"Two things," he said, his tone the same as it had been...rather snotty. "First, as you so aptly put it yesterday, this is work....we work. Second, I'm not too keen on the idea of being your boyfriend only when it's convenient for you."
"I came in here to apologise to you about yesterday."
"Fine. Apology accepted. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."
"Jack... I wanted to explain what happened...I wanted to..."
"You overheard someone discussing our relationship. Is that it?"
She nodded. Yes, that was it in a nutshell, but she wanted to explain it further.
"Fine. I understand," he said curtly. "Can I be alone now?"
"Jack... please... I..."
He moved toward his clothes rack and began to change.
"What're you doing?" she asked. "Why are you changing? You never leave this early."
"It's obvious you're not going to leave... so I will."
She stood dumbfounded, watching him change. Was he lashing out? Giving her a taste of what she'd given him out of spite... or were his motives as hers had been: he needed to take his frustrations out on someone, and she had walked into his office?
He finished quickly and grabbed his coat, helmet, and briefcase and left her standing in his office, like he had done that night weeks ago; the night he kissed her for the first time.
Like that night, Claire followed hot on his heels. She got to the elevator just as Jack stepped in. With her hand, she stopped the door from closing. It slid back open and she held it there, much to the dismay of the elevator's other passengers.
"Meet me as Gilley's at 6, will you?" she asked him.
He didn't say anything.
"Jack?"
"Fine."
She let go of the door and it slid shut.
*****
She waited until 6:30, and he didn't show up, and so she went home, trying to be understanding. Something was troubling him deeply, and it was more than the way she'd behaved the day before. But he had stood her up in what seemed a deliberate fashion, and that really got to her. If he hadn't wanted to go, he should have said so rather than agreed just to get her out of his face when he'd obviously had no intention of meeting her.
They couldn't keep going on like this. Both of them were the type to internalise pain and anguish in order to deal with it, making them at times irritable and unapproachable. It was something they were going to have to work on if they expected their relationship to last longer than a few months. And Claire did.
She thought about all of this as she changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved v-neck T-shirt. Lucy was on her bed, and so Claire sat to cuddle with her for a few minutes.
"Why do we seem to be pushing each other away so often, Luce?" she asked her cat, obviously not expecting a response.
Lucy just snuggled beneath Claire's chin and began to purr. After a few minutes of this, Claire decided to go and give Jack's puppy some attention. He was, as ever, thrilled to see her.
She had bought a rubber pull toy for the puppy, and wiggled it in front of him until he became interested in it. He grabbed onto it with his teeth, tugging backward as Claire lightly tugged the other side toward her. She began to twist her wrist, moving the puppy's head from side to side, his big ears flopping to and fro against the side of his small head. Claire laughed as he lost his balance and rolled onto his side. He bounded up quickly, chew-toy forgotten, and pounced onto Claire's lap, where she sat Indian-style in the center of her kitchen floor. She held him up and closed her eyes and mouth as he began to like her face in his little puppy exuberance.
She played with the puppy thusly, until he began to pant heavily, and she could tell he was tired. She replenished his food and water, and came to a conclusion: She was going to Jack's place, and they were going to hash this thing out. Tonight. Before they became further alienated from each other.
She set up the safety gate for the puppy, grabbed leather jacket, keys, and purse, and headed out the door.
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