Michael stepped out of the elevator into the dim reception area. The files he needed were on his desk but he looked down the hall in the opposite direction from his office. Maggie’s door was open and golden afternoon light filtered into the hallway from her window. He heard the sounds of movement coming from the open doorway of the library and he headed there.
A mountain of books covered the table and a few had even slid to the floor. It was as though someone had gone out of their way to leave a mess for Maggie to deal with when she returned. No way could anyone possibly use that many books in one day. Standifer and Hemphill, he guessed. He knew they always tried to give her a hard time.
From deep within the rows of shelves, he heard her humming. He recognized the song immediately. Maggie appeared from around the corner, her back to him as she pulled a cart piled high with heavy leather volumes. The cord to her earbuds snaked up from the back pocket of her jeans, and she was still humming as she paused to place a few books on a shelf.
A slow smile crept across his face as Michael leaned against the doorway and watched her move back in the direction from which she’d come, stopping at the next shelf and checking the cart. He’d never seen her dressed casually. Maggie’s work attire was always consummately professional. Today, her feet were bare, the skinny jeans, low cut, and the tight black t-shirt had a tiny logo on the back, the Ramones, unless he missed his guess. Who knew Maggie was a punk? he mused, grinning. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail that swished as she moved to shelve some more books.
She began to pull the cart back in his direction again, hips swaying to the music only she heard, and she stopped in the middle of the aisle. “Kkkkkk-Kat-mandu!” she sang, and she raised her arms over her head and twisted her body down until she sat on her heels and then swayed back up again. In the process, her shirt rode up and her jeans rode down, exposing a small sun tattoo on her right hip. Michael felt his body responding. Maggie was… hot.
He grinned mischievously, enjoying his vantage point. Maggie picked up a stack of three leather-bound volumes, turned suddenly, and realized he was standing in the doorway. Eyes wide, she shrieked unintelligibly, dropped the books, and stumbled backwards, landing smack on her ass. “Holy fucking shitballs! What the hell?!”
Laughing, he crossed the space quickly and reached to help her to her feet. “Howdy, Mags. How was your trip?”
“Goddammit, Michael, you scared the fucking shit out of me!” she squawked. “And I just broke my phone!” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the remains of her old iPhone. The screen was crushed and the back had come o and was broken in half.
He laughed again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I stopped by to pick up some files for court tomorrow. Thomas told me you were here so I came to look for you, but then you were singing and I just had to watch. You’re pretty good, you know. We should all go for karaoke some night.” He saw by her expression that she was still mad. “I’ll buy you a new phone. It’s my fault yours got broken.”
Her face softened a little. “You don’t have to do that. I just didn’t expect to see anyone in here today.”
“No, I broke it, I’ll replace it,” Michael said. He gave her a stern look. “But Mags, your language, seriously!”
She immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a potty mouth, it’s just... Well, you startled me. I’ll do better, I promise.”
“That’s more like it,” he replied, arching an eyebrow. “After all, this is a goddamn serious motherfucking place of business, not some son of a bitch cock-sucking tavern.” He grinned and winked.
She smiled ruefully and gave him a playful shove. “You’re teasing me.”
“Yes, I am,” Michael agreed. Again, he was aware of the unsettled feeling he had when he was around Maggie and he took a step back. “Well, I’m off to get the files.”
He left her to her books and headed to his office. He’d be away from the office all day tomorrow. Probably a good thing, he decided. Thoughts of that sun tattoo were swirling in his mind.
Files in hand, he headed back to the library to say goodbye but encountered Maggie in the reception area. She was pushing the empty cart. “I figured I should check the conference room before I get too far and think I’m almost finished,” she said. “I’m glad I stopped in today so I don’t have all this in addition to tomorrow’s jobs.”
“I appreciate your hard work, Mags,” Michael said genuinely. He pointed to her t-shirt. “You’re a Ramones fan?”
Maggie looked down at her shirt and back up to him. “Of course. I don’t think I could be friends with someone who doesn’t like the Ramones,” she grinned.
“Well lucky for me,” he replied. “Say, there’s a charity thing in Connecticut on Friday night. It’s to support music in the schools or something.” She furrowed her brow so he explained further. “I’m not sure exactly, but it’s a semi-formal thing at an estate on the water and there are supposed to be some classic rockers performing. Anyway, I bought a table. Murph and Jimbo and their wives will be there but I still have two tickets left. I thought if you could find someone to bring, maybe you’d like to come, too.”
He watched her eyes widen, then narrow as she crossed her arms in front of the Ramones logo. Aw, shit! he thought, realizing he’d fucked it up.
“So if I could manage to scrape up somebody who didn’t mind going out with me, we’d be invited to your little shindig?” she summarized, swirling her index finger in a flippant circle.
“Geez, Mags, that’s not what I meant, I just meant...” he trailed off. “Michael,” she said severely, “I gotcha!” She grinned triumphantly.
“Aw, son of a...” They both laughed.
“I think I can find someone. It sounds like fun,” Maggie said.
“Good,” Michael replied, “I’ll get you those tickets.” He pushed the call button for the elevator. “Thanks again for working so hard, Maggie. Please know it’s noticed and appreciated. We’ll start getting you out to court soon.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Maggie warned.
“I figured as much,” Michael replied, laughing lightly. He stepped into the elevator and turned to face her. “By the way, Mags, is that little sun the only tattoo you have?”
She glanced down at her hip. “As far as you know,” she replied saucily, just as the elevator doors closed.
Again, Michael felt his body respond and he shook his head. This could definitely be trouble.
Maggie finished putting away all the books about an hour and a half later and returned home exhausted from her trip and the extra work. She wondered about Ben, but with her broken phone, she had no way to call him.
At 8:30 that evening, Maggie’s door buzzed. It was a messenger with a brand new iPhone, courtesy of S. Michael Rannigan.