Part 5: 'bout halfway through
Novak found her nursing a solo beer much later, after a very loud, very aggressive afternoon at the range. The attorney came up behind Olivia’s favourite big leather chair and placed her hands gently on Olivia's shoulders, her thumbs resting against the back of the detective’s neck. Gently, she softly kneaded the tense muscles, enjoying the power she found there.
Olivia leaned back with a groan, her head just touching Casey’s stomach. She closed her eyes, very aware of the heat of the attorney. The touch of her hands was at once soothing and also a little exciting. It was discomfiting when Olivia found herself getting aroused by the simple gesture.
“You’re strung tighter than a piano,” when Olivia just grunted, Novak smiled, “Long day?”
“Yeah,”
The gentle massage continued for another minute or so and Casey let go, she had an almost irresistible urge to run her fingers over the dark arch of Olivia’s brow and along the strong angle of her jaw, which the attorney firmly tamped down and told to go away. She walked around the left side of the chair to her briefcase for the ADA was working; she was just at Olivia’s for the moral support. Liv reached out, gently touching Casey above the elbow.
“Can you look at something for me, after you’re done with that?” she gestured with her chin to the pile of papers.
“Sure, what?”
“A legal thing,” Olivia temporized, “I can’t make too much sense of it, that’s all.”
“Gimme an hour,” the ADA sprawled on the sofa, all elbows and knees, “I should be done, and if I’m not I’ll need the break.”
The detective nodded, randomly channel surfing, she settled on the Discovery Channel, surprisingly entertained by the reconstruction of an Egyptian mummy. At the end, when they dramatically revealed the ‘face’ of the desiccated corpse, it was a surprise that had her doing a double take, and even Casey gasped in surprise at the surprisingly evocative features.
“Whoa, that’s not what I expected,” the attorney commented, her papers in a neat stack next to the briefcase, “Kinda creepy.”
“Yeah, reconstructions usually are, we’ve only ever had to do a few of them, but it’s always a shock to see a face grow up out of the skull.” Liv switched off the television, “You done?”
“Yup,” Casey slid the papers home, “So, what’s your legal ‘thing’?”
“It’s on my nightstand, lemme…”
“It’s ok, I got it,” Novak was up and mussing in Olivia’s bedroom before the detective had a chance to protest, “The folder or the envelope? Or both?”
Olivia took a deep breath, moment of truth… “Both, but the folder first”
“Ok,” Cheerfully, Casey sat down with the legal papers in her hand, as Liv watched, the face turned more and more serious, to the point where a groping hand reached out and found a pen to gnaw on during the reading.
After half an hour of solid reading, even though it really was only a short brief, she set down the folder slowly. Without making eye contact she reached for the envelope from the real estate agency and skimmed the request.
In a low voice she asked, “Do you have a copy of the original document?”
“Which document?”
“Her will,”
“Yeah, sure,”
This time Casey let Olivia get up and get the papers all on her own. She sat there on the sofa next to Casey and fidgeted, absently thumbing through what she could understand of the documentation. It took almost an hour then, as she slowly and carefully worked her way through the legal papers that granted Olivia and Elliot rights to Alexandra Cabot’s estate.
With a long sigh, Casey finally set down the papers; she closed her eyes, and said, in a very controlled, even tone. “I’m glad you got help with this, Olivia.”
“Is it really that bad?” Liv asked, hoping she hadn’t unwittingly got into serious legal trouble because she didn’t want to deal with Alex’s ‘death’.
“It could have been,” the attorney still hadn’t opened her eyes; she seemed to be gathering strength. “Do you trust me implicitly to act in your legal best interest?”
“Yes,” The funny part was the she never hesitated in the answer; the fact of the matter was that there was a short list of lawyers Liv felt she could trust, but most of them were either dead or fled. Casey was on top of that very short list.
“Ok, then I need for you to do two things: first, find me some money, a quarter, a dollar bill, a penny, anything.” Olivia frowned a little, but dug into her pocket and fished out change from lunch. She handed the motley combination of nickels and dimes to Casey and the redhead sighed. “Alright, now I’m on retainer as your attorney in this matter, any conversation we have involving Alexandra Cabot, her estate, or the corporation Cabot Enterprises is considered privileged communications between an attorney and her client and is not subject to court order. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” To the detective’s distress Casey’s statements sounded suspiciously like a Miranda warning from legal counsels.
“Second thing: we’re going to the City Hall tomorrow and having a public notary witness you granting me power of attorney to act on your behalf, ok? Then I’ll file it with the County Clerk’s office and the NYPD, just to be on the safe side.” Casey’s eyes were dark and flat, the lawyer’s version of a cop face.
“Is that really necessary?” Liv asked, regretting it the instant that she saw hurt slide behind the intense gaze, “It’s not that I don’t trust you Casey, I just want to know what’s going on. You can have the power of attorney, hell you are my lawyer now, right?”
“Yeah, I am,” Casey dropped her head, letting her hair spill out and down, cascading over her face, and then swept it back with both hands and a deep breath. “I need to ask you some things.”
“Ok,”
Casey seemed… reluctant was it? Perhaps nervous, but she squared her shoulders and with those flat eyes honed from years of confronting people across the legal table she asked, “Were you and Alexandra Cabot ever romantically involved, even if it was just for a night or a momentary indiscretion?”
“No, we weren’t,” Feeling compelled to explain, not only to the woman who was her lawyer but to her friend, Olivia reached over and took Casey’s hand, “She was straight, Casey. We were friends, good friends, but it was never romantic.”
“Can you swear to that in open court?” Casey threaded her hand into Olivia’s noticing that the detective had larger hands than one would expect a woman her height to possess, and thinking that her friend was slightly self-conscious about that fact.
“I’ll swear it anywhere I have to,” Olivia squeezed the smaller hand inside hers gently.
Years of pistol shooting, weightlifting, and wrestling criminals had given her a truly impressive strength in her hands, and she was completely paranoid about hurting people with them. She felt she had oversize mitts to begin with, and even accidentally, if she bruised with them, she felt horrible, so she was always exaggeratedly gentle.
“Ok, good,” Casey smiled, feeling relief not only that her client was not up a creek, but that Olivia had made the denial of a relationship without denying that she could be attracted to women. “One more: Have you and Elliot…”
“No, never, and any number of people will swear to that in open court, including him and myself,” Olivia actually smiled, “Why does the entire world think I can’t work with someone without shagging them?”
“Because you’re a beautiful woman in a position of authority and when they can’t have you people feel compelled to speculate why,” Casey summed up succinctly, “It’s no secret you and Elliot are close and Alex… well I think the entire world lusted after Alexandra Cabot.”
Liv smiled, but not for the reason Casey seemed to think, her detective brain had picked out the one phrase that piqued her interest: beautiful woman. Curiouser and curiouser.
“I’m going to need to talk to Elliot as well, but he’s pretty clear, the family doesn’t care much about the trust fund or the properties, it’s the interest in the corporation they care about, and if I am to correctly assume that you want to keep things the way they are….” Casey trailed off before receiving a nod, “…then we need to get moving before the board meeting.”
“Ok, what do you recommend?”
“Move into Alex’s old apartment, you’ve had a decent enough excuse but if your lease is up, you need to get in,” Casey sympathetically wiggled her fingers in the hand Olivia held, “If you can’t do it, then at least tell the real estate company to lease it out. You have to prove that you’re doing something productive with the assets.”
“Same idea, you need to call a professional financial advisor,” Casey’s other hand came forward and insinuated itself into the tangled twist of fingers on the sofa cushion between them, “There’s plenty of them in the city. You need to start moving money around, look into your investments, get car insurance, and buy a whole lot of clothes or jewellery. It really doesn’t matter what; just do something with the money and the stocks.”
“But…”
“No buts,” Casey interrupted, “They’re going for the argument that you can’t handle the assets, if they can prove that you haven’t touched anything then it’s a lot easier to pressure you into a buyout. That’s what they’re trying to force. According to some of the bylaws, they might be able to pull it off if they can prove you’re not being an active asset manager.”
“So you’re ordering me to go on a shopping spree?” Olivia could barely believe her ears.
“A controlled asset re-allocution,” Casey smiled, “But essentially, yes.”
“I can do that,” Liv nodded, “How much of a controlled asset move is this?”
“Ten, fifteen grand, minimum, but you can afford more,” Casey said, completely non-plussed.
“Dear God,” Liv breathed, “That’s more than I make in three months.”
“You can suck a lot of it up in moving costs, furniture, a club membership, car insurance… the important part is to get the stocks moving. I know a few people, who know a few people, but you’ve got to get aggressive.” Casey shrugged, “I know it sounds stupid, but if you can prove action, you don’t necessarily need to prove profit.”
“Ok, so tomorrow city hall, then shopping?” Liv asked.
“Be there at five.” Casey confirmed. “I’ll pick up the name of a good financial manager, we can make an appointment. I hope you realise that as the legal representative for millions worth of assets, I’m coming with you.”
“Of course, I can just… sign the checks.” Liv was slightly overwhelmed, well… more than slightly, but apparently ADA Novak knew what to do with money, so Liv was willing to try.
It went against the grain to just play with money as if it was a toy, as the child of a single-parent, alcoholic home she’d never been well off, and then she joined the NYPD, which was not a vocation for those who wanted to make the big bucks. She pulled in between fifty and sixty grand a year, more or less, depending on overtime and taxes. It was comfortable enough for her apartment, no car, and the occasional night out. Having an income with more digits than letters in her name was certainly not something she was prepared to deal with.
She made a phone call to the real estate company the next day, telling them she was moving in and asking for the keys. Somehow she managed to also hire a moving company and an interior decorator before she hung up the phone. The overjoyed agent also recommended a company for homeowners and car insurance, of which he was also a broker, and she snapped that up in under twenty minutes.
Price was never mentioned.
It took a big gulp of air to just sign off, but she took Casey’s advice seriously, and it made sense in a way. Possession was nine tenths of the law, right? If she could prove that she was using the assets, the board would have a much harder time justifying a lawsuit to take them away.
The moving company would be at her place in a week, somehow Liv suspected the quick turnaround wasn’t cheap either, but if she had the money why deal with the hassle?
Another phone call declined to renew the lease on her apartment, she was already paid up, so that was a quick few minutes, then she dropped her renters insurance, effective at the end of the month, and suddenly her life was completely turned upside down.
It took less than an hour.
Her next call was to Elliot, she told him she was moving in to Alex’s old place, his end of the line went blank for a moment, but he sighed and admitted that it was time, past time, that they accept what had happened and move on. He offered to help with the heavy lifting, but she told him to save his muscular showing off for his wife, because she sure as hell wasn’t interested.
When she met with Casey to sign the papers which gave her power of attorney for Olivia’s life, her hands weren’t entirely steady as she took the pen. The ADA must have noticed, because her hand went to rub Olivia’s back in a soothing, almost maternal gesture. It was done, filed, and they were marching down Fifth Avenue, before dinner time.
Not ever having the money to indulge a serious shopping binge, Olivia dithered and window shopped for a while, but irresistibly she was drawn into FAO Schwartz, the world largest toy store.
She didn’t even look at the price when they ran the debit card, everything on the tab to be delivered to the Stablers in late-December. Casey was playing with the single most adorable stuffed panda while she checked out and Olivia just tossed it on the pile, it was the size of a small child, but soft as only chenille can be, she caught the edge of an adorable blush as the redhead buried her face into the panda’s belly.
They trucked out, empty handed but for the monstrous panda bear. Suddenly Olivia stopped, they were right across the street from Tiffany & Co. and she paused. For her entire life she’d looked in the widows of that store. She’d marvelled at the glass filigree, the trademark lamps, and the famous Tiffany diamonds.
With a grin that could only be described as gleeful she tugged on Casey’s shoulder and jaywalked directly across to the big double doors. The store smelled expensive, like the stuffy parlour of an underfed socialite. If she got strange looks for lugging a district attorney with a child size panda bear into Tiffany & Co., Liv completely ignored them.
Feeling like the proverbial kid in a candy store her eyes jumped from one shiny object to the next. Casey, who was following along with an amused smile, would have laughed out loud if she hadn’t known that Olivia wouldn’t understand. The expression on the detective’s face was a reckless gleam.
Casey sat her panda, fingers still twined in the heavenly soft fur, one the counter of the men’s side of the jewellery. Olivia was studiously scrutinizing cuff-links; she picked a pair, in white gold, with a swirl pattern in small, flawless diamonds. The links were a matched set with a tie tack and tie bar, so with a shrug, Olivia included them as well. Casey wondered if Elliot would actually know what to do with man-jewellery. Suspecting what the detective was up to, Casey wasn’t at all surprised when Liv also bought a small desk lamp, to be delivered to Doc Warner late-December.
She leaned forward shifting the panda to one hip and said in an undertone, “Christmas shopping in October?”
“Might as well, I hate the holiday crowds,”
Predictably, Olivia’s next purchase, a handsome set of silk ties from Armani, was gifted to Captain Cragen, again to be delivered come holiday time. Munch got a lifetime subscription to an esoteric journal which Olivia assured the ADA was something he’d enjoy. Finn got a truly bizarre music selection from the Virgin Records Megastore, again with the reassurance that it was something he’d enjoy.
Olivia dithered over a gift for Huang, the FBI psychologist was a good colleague, but she knew very little about his personal tastes. After a long debate, she left that gift to sit on the back burner. She had a few regular meetings with him scheduled for later on; perhaps something would strike her fancy as she spilled her guts.
Casey had to marvel, it had to be the first time Olivia had gone on a shopping spree with no spending limit and the first thing she did was buy presents for everyone else in her life. She ribbed on the detective gently and had to damn near push her into an Italian leather goods store, where Olivia purchased the single most buttery soft bronze leather jacket imaginable.
Casey was getting tired of lugging the panda around, but with a grinning flash of white teeth, Olivia hailed a cab outside the leather goods store. Olivia whispered an address to the cabbie with a conspiratorial wink, and with an adorable little frown on concentration, Liv carefully dressed the panda in her old, black leather jacket, kilting up the sleeves a bit so the panda’s ‘hands’ would poke out in the right place, and fastening the buttons carefully around the big belly.
They stopped in front of a truly ostentations Italian restaurant and Casey’s jaw dropped. She fixed a surprised look on the detective who shrugged, looking boyishly sheepish, how Liv managed to get reservations practically overnight was a complete mystery.
Between the crutches, the leather clad panda, and Liv’s omnipresent blue jeans, how they managed to slip under the dress code radar was another minor miracle. Casey was still in her trial gear, that would have got them in the door anywhere, but Olivia was casually adorable in jeans, a bright blue button up and the brand new bronze leather.
Comically, Casey coat checked the panda, the expression on the girl who was minding the long line of Armani, Chanel, and Klein jackets was positively priceless; a cross between puzzlement and shock. They were escorted to an out of the way table, with a decent view out one window, and an amusingly bashful detective across the table.
“This is fantastic, Olivia, how did you manage reservations on such short notice?” Casey asked amazed, then watched the usually collected detective’s ear-tips turn red.
“Well, you’re not the only one who has a friend of a friend,” Liv replied archly, “I have connections around here too, you know.”
“I like your connections better than mine,” Casey murmured appreciatively, the waiter came forward with a small appetiser, stuffed mushrooms, which just so happened to be a favourite of Casey’s, and placed it directly in front of the attorney. She looked at Olivia, who was trying to hide in her water glass, and asked, “Ok, who did you bribe to get that information?”
“It was a condition of the information that my informant remain… confidential.” There was a twinkle in Olivia’s eyes, as she set the glass down. ‘My God,’ Casey thought, incredulous, ‘She’s flirting with me.’
“Well, the source would have to be unimpeachable in character and must have provided viable information in the past,” Casey set her lawyer logic in motion, “Have you been investigating me Detective Benson?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be at liberty to discuss an open investigation.” Olivia twirled the stem of her glass; her finger movements were nervous, but steady.
Casey could feel her heart pounding practically out of her chest. This dinner had the potential to be more important than any courtroom appearance she had ever made. Every word and every action must be absolute perfection. She carefully and deliberately picked up the appropriate fork and speared one of the mushrooms.
They were gorgeous looking crimini’s stuffed with what appeared to be a combination of cheeses and breadcrumbs. One sniff and she could feel her mouth water, so with deliberate sensuality, she pulled it into her mouth, half closing her eyes at the first burst of flavour.
“Mmmmm,” Casey hummed, through shuttered eyes she could see Olivia paying rapt attention, “Magnificent, you want one?”
She stabbed another, leaned forward slightly, set her elbow down on the table, and waved the laden fork temptingly. Liv’s eyes never left Casey’s as she leaned in and enveloped the mushroom, through the fork Casey could feel the detective set her teeth sharply, and her blood pressure skyrocketed.
The appearance of the wine steward cut off the flirting somewhat, Liv did indeed fetch her own fork, and they split the mushroom plate. A white wine was paired with the antipasti and as the steward went through the elaborate ritual of pouring Casey took stock of her situation.
It was getting really hot, really quick. It had been a long time since she was serious about someone. She’d be lying to herself if she wasn't slightly apprehensive. If she believed rumour, Liv was the ultimate love ‘em and leave ‘em, having blinding nights of passion with beautiful people, but never the desire for more than brief intensity.
Casey was cursed, or blessed, with a disposition that didn’t date casually. When she went out she was looking for a life-mate, she was serious, and her intensity frequently scared off casual customers. She could see the promise of more than the fleeting in Olivia, though, she could feel that Olivia had the capacity to love, and love deeply; she was dedicated, and by God, if Olivia wasn’t one of the most trustworthy people on the planet, Casey didn’t know who else existed.
It made Casey hurt to think of the loneliness and sorrow that she knew the detective was living with, beyond Elliot and the job there was no one in Olivia’s life but the victims. Casey had made her enquiries, she knew Liv was the child of rape, that was an open secret among the SVU detectives, and she knew that her only relative, her mother, had died tragically a few years before, that information was a matter of public record. All that pain made Casey just want to curl up in Olivia’s life and make sure the detective never felt alone again.
“Casey…”
The attorney shook herself out of her little brown study with flaming embarrassment, she never blushed as much as she did with the detective, “God, sorry Olivia, I was… my mind was wandering.”
“Really?” Casey felt a shiver, she knew she was the focus of all Olivia’s attention and it made her hyper aware of the comfortable tug of sensual awareness between them that evening. “Penny for your thoughts, counsellor”
“Actually,” Casey didn’t know if the admission would scare Olivia off, but gamely answered, “I was thinking about you.”
“What about me?” Olivia’s eyes registered surprise, which was unusual. Casey didn’t often see the detective off balance.
“Wondering how well deserved your reputation is, Casanova,” Casey replied pertly, again leaning into the detective, “If I listened to everything the precinct rumour mill said, I should be fearing for my virtue, right about now.”
“You have nothing to fear from me,” Olivia replied softly, looking away in apparent embarrassment, suddenly Casey was afraid she’d been horribly off base, assuming this evening was a date, “Those guys just try to live their sex lives vicariously through me.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you…” Casey trailed off, mentally cursing herself, damn it she knew every word counted, why did she go and screw it up like that? Olivia was driving Casey nuts, did she or did she not date women?
“You didn’t,” Olivia was again twisting the stem of her wine glass, stirring the honey coloured liquid up like a mini-typhoon, “Just, uh, don’t believe everything you hear.”
“If I believed it all, I’d wonder when you’d find time to actually show up at the precinct for work,” Casey joked, still fishing for a definitive answer to the question in her mind, “And I know better than that.”
“Well, counsellor, let the record reflect that my appetite for the meaningless one night stand has greatly diminished over the years,” It sparked a bit of hope inside Casey, things might not be completely ruined if Olivia was warning her off the casual fling.
“Then let the record also reflect that I never had a taste for them anyway,” This time when Olivia’s eyes met her own, there was a different kind of warmth. It puddled inside Casey, pooling low and liquidly, making her smile and want to squirm just a little.
Maybe she did date women, after all.
Dinner was as fussily ostentatious as only an upscale Manhattan restaurant could possibly be, Olivia had ordered in advance, and the slightly uncertain expression on her face when she told Casey was worth suffering through eggplant parmesan when the ADA truly loathed and detested the vegetable. She managed to make half of the detestable purple thing go away by ‘sharing’ with Olivia’s tortellini that launched a thousand ships, and the other half, she slowly picked at, having learnt the art of making a vegetable disappear early on in her life.
Late in the evening, cuddled around a giant, leather clad, panda bear Casey had to order her heart to slow down so that she could actually start to approach sleep. She smoothed over the jacket, enjoying the slick, leathery feel and the faint smell of Olivia’s perfume.
There was a small lump on the panda’s ribcage, and Casey hastily opened the jacket’s buttons, fearing that Olivia left something vitally important in the pocket like her cell phone or her wallet or… a soft velvet box. With hands that were shaking she snapped open the lid, her breath catching on the single largest pair of diamond stud earrings she had ever seen.
A small scrap of paper was tucked into the box, folded over twice. It was written in Olivia’s blocky, workman-like penmanship, saying: For all those billable hours you’ll refuse to charge me for, Thanks - Olivia.
The earrings were what else, Tiffany’s, and tastefully huge. They had to be half a carat apiece, to Casey’s inexperienced gaze, and they winked with flawless fire in the dim light from the street. Her hand immediately itched for the phone, but it was past midnight and she knew the detective had to be up before six for her physical therapy.
Damn that sneaky detective and her bursts of thoughtfulness.
Later, alone in the batting cage, she choked up on her bat and put all her energy into crushing a bright orange softball into the stratosphere. It was snagged by the net and rolled down into the hole in bottom of the floor.
*phoom*
The ball arced to her ‘plate’ and she again put all her might into the bat, feeling the satisfying *crack* as she sent another ball, this one lime green, flying foul.
*phoom*
Judge Harriman knew.
*crack*
He knew she was representing Olivia against Cabot Enterprises. There was only one way to know, because she’d just spoken to the account manager that morning. He had an illegal insider, who informed him the moment any of Alex’s money had been moved.
*phoom*
He knew because she’d had fourteen objections in the prelim hearing overruled.
*crack*
Fourteen objections. Fourteen fucking objections. Even the opposing counsel was looking sideways at some of the rulings. She was drafting a motion to get him off the trial, but it hadn’t helped the frustration and the agony that afternoon.
*phoom*
Unwittingly he’d given her the ammunition she needed to slip Olivia completely off the Cabot Enterprises radar. Given the splash she’d made in special victims, people tended to forget her start in the DA’s office had been in white collar crimes.
*crack*
She was on the money trail like a bloodhound. It would go back to him, she’d bet a limb on it.
*phoom*
She’d get him thrown off the bench.
*crack*
Disbarred, humiliated, publicly disgraced… judges would think twice before messing with Casey Novak. Getting a judge thrown off the bench would even make Elizabeth Donnelly quake in her six hundred dollar shoes.
*phoom*
She grunted through a swing, whiffing, and the ball rattled on the chain link behind the ‘plate’. Her shirt, an old Harvard practice jersey that had seen the business end of a pair of scissors, was soaked through, she was panting and a muscle in her back was starting to spasm.
She backed away from the plate, the motion sensor tripped, and the pitching machine halted its movements. The hardtop helmet came off, freeing red, sweat soaked strands. It had been a long morning working with the financial advisor on Olivia’s behalf, a longer afternoon in front of Judge Harriman.
It wasn’t bad, Casey actually found herself getting back into the old groove of working to trace and handle large amounts of money. She enjoyed the intricate nature of the financial arrangements, it would have been better if it was her money, but playing with Olivia’s was just as much fun. Unwittingly Olivia had picked one of the best lawyers possible to handle the matter; Casey had a ton of experience with the legal aspect of finances.
That reminded her, Casey knelt down beside her bat bag and drew out her cell phone, and she hit the speed dial code, and waited two rings.
“Benson,” came the brusque, no-nonsense voice over the phone.
“Hey Liv, it’s me,” She juggled her bat and the phone, switching sides in the process, “Listen, just an FYI, expect a bunch of papers from the financial guys sometime tomorrow. They’re sign and return, if you have any questions or problems just call me, but I think we worked it out to satisfaction.”
“When did ‘we’ meet with this guy?” Olivia asked sceptically.
“I met with her this morning,” Casey winced, wondering if she’d overstepped her bounds by just steamrolling over the monetary aspect of the Cabot legacy. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes, Liv, but I thought you were ok with me having power of attorney.”
“I-I am,” the detective sounded uncertain, an unusual thing to say the least, “Sorry, I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Novak.”
Olivia hadn’t called her ‘Novak’ in a private conversation for the better part of a month. She was either in public or really annoyed and Casey was really hoping for the former.
“If you want to talk about it…” her voice trailed off, “Look, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, it’s not your fault.” Olivia sighed, “I just got off the phone with Elliot. I was hoping I could kip out at his place for a little while, while the moving guys were taking care of my apartment. Apparently…” her voice got that sharp, sarcastic tone, “Kathy has ‘other’ plans for the weekend that don’t involve Elliot’s partner borrowing the sofa.”
“Oh man,” Casey knew how much Olivia valued her relationship with her partner, platonic though it was, his wife’s occasional, unreasonable, jealousy was hard for her to handle. “Tell you what; I have a perfectly serviceable piece of furniture in my living room that I don’t anticipate being occupied for the foreseeable future.”
“No, really, Casey, you’ve already…”
“Nonsense,” she replied briskly, “You’ve had me over to your place often enough, it’s high time I returned the favour.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,”
“I snore,” Olivia warned, “I’ll drool all over your sofa and refuse to wake up in the mornings.”
Casey had to smile, “Well, I also snore, I do admit to having slobbered over my fair share of pillowcases, and I loathe and detest waking up before I’m good and ready, and that goes double for when it’s dark out, so… I really think we’re even.”
“I owe you,”
“Friends don’t owe each other, it’s my pleasure.”
There was a moment of silence over the line, but Casey could hear Olivia’s breathing hitch, as if she was surprised. Olivia quietly asked for Casey’s address, and then thanked the attorney.