Kalina nodded. “So why aren’t you getting coffee on your floor?” That was a question she just had to get out of the way. She had a feeling that Melanie hadn’t stopped by her desk by chance.
“Uck, somebody put three packs into the machine. It looks like motor oil and smells strong enough to have me walking in my sleep for the rest of the week. No, thank you.”
“I see,” Kalina chuckled. “I’m Kalina,” she said since she and Melanie had never formally been introduced.
“I know. I’m Melanie, but you can call me Mel. Mr. Reynolds had me pull the email we were sent when you started. Each time a new employee starts at the firm, human resources sends out an email introducing them to everyone. Mr. Reynolds said he must have overlooked the one about you. If you ask me he didn’t see it at all, probably didn’t even pull up his emails that day.”
“Does he do that often? Not check his emails?”
“No. Normally he’s on top of everything from emails to voicemails to mail that’s come in and is going out. But these last couple of weeks…” Mel trailed off as they approached the front desk. The main reception area was located in the center of the floor, just across from where the elevator doors opened. The kitchen was on the other side so they had to walk through and pass gossip central to get there.
“Hey, Melanie,” Pam said, giving Kalina a pointed look. “Good morning.” Her head gave a nod to Kalina, but her eyes were saying something else.
This woman, Kalina noted, had a lot to say, all the time. If she weren’t so loud and boisterous Kalina might have thought about pumping her for information, but something told her it was best just to steer clear of this one.
“Good morning.”
“You ladies working on something together?” Pam asked.
“We’re going to the kitchen for coffee, Pam. If anyone’s looking for either of us that’s where we’ll be,” Melanie said with a syrupy-sweet voice.
The minute they rounded the corner, leaving Pam and her nosiness behind at the receptionist desk, Mel made a gagging sound. “She’s like nine-one-one central.”
“Like her much?” Kalina asked.
“Yeah, like I want to poke needles in my eye while walking on hot coals.”
Kalina was laughing as they stepped through the glass doors. She was beginning to like Melanie Keys.
“So you said Mr. Reynolds wanted to know when I was hired?” She had moved right to the counter, reaching up to open a cabinet to look for the mugs.
“Here, they’re in this one,” Mel said, opening another cabinet and taking down a cup. When she offered it to Kalina, she tilted her head as if studying her. “I’ve been here for ten years so I know my way around.”
“This is my first law-firm job.”
“Really? Where’d you work before now?”
Kalina didn’t even blink before saying, “An accounting firm in Baltimore. I just moved to DC about six months ago. Needed a change of scenery, you know.”
Mel nodded. “I understand. I wish I could get away. I’ve been here all my life, my family’s here, my job. God, my mom would freak if I even mentioned moving to another state and taking the kids.”
Now Kalina did falter. She could lie smoothly when it was a surface lie, something she’d memorized from the file the DEA had given her. But Mel’s mention of family, of roots was something else altogether. She sort of had roots here in DC; the Department of Social Services downtown was the one that placed her with each of her foster parents. That meant she belonged here, right?
“That’s nice you have a family.” Clearing her throat, she tried again to focus. “You don’t look old enough to have kids with an s,” she said with a smile as she dipped the decaffeinated tea bag in and out of her hot water.
Mel had already poured her coffee and was holding the sugar dispenser over it while a steady stream of white emptied into her cup. Kalina liked her tea the same way. It made her smile to have something in common with someone.
“Twins, Matthew and Madison, eight years old, beautiful at birth, terrors as toddlers, and now more than a handful in elementary. Jonathan’s thirteen—cell phone, Facebook, and girls, that’s all he’s thinking about right now. And Addy, a gorgeous sixteen-year-old, plays field hockey like a pro but can’t grasp algebra to save her life.” She stopped pouring, setting the sugar down with a clunk. “Pete and I’ve been married for twenty-two years, high school sweethearts. You? Kids? A man? I don’t see a ring,” she noted, lifting a dark eyebrow.
Kalina’s chest clenched. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one pumping Mel for information? This wasn’t about her, not on a personal level. It couldn’t be. Besides, the answer she had to this question, honestly, was dismal at best.
“No kids. No man.” She shrugged. “No time.”
“Well, you can’t be dedicated to your work. Especially not here. Even though I hear Dan’s brutal to work for.” Mel seemed to go from one subject to another without much effort, which was a relief to Kalina.
After adding her own sugar to her tea, Kalina lifted her mug to take a test sip. The warm liquid filled her like an empty container. She blinked, trying not to think of how pitiful it was that a cup of hot tea and trivial conversation with a co-worker could make her feel just a little more complete.
“He’s been okay so far. What’s Mr. Reynolds like to work for? He seems a bit rigid.” As rigid and unyielding as a pit bull.
“Oh.” Mel waved a hand, her silver charm bracelet dangling on her left arm. “He’s all right once you get used to him and his moods. I’ve been with him long enough to know exactly how to deal with him. Today, for example, he has depositions all morning; they’ll break for lunch and he’ll close himself up in his office. Then, if the morning sessions haven’t completed, he’ll go back into the conference room and chew the other attorney’s ass out a little more. Then he’ll return to his office where he’ll brood until about six, then he’ll go home. Now, tomorrow—” Mel kept right on talking as they walked toward the door, mugs in hand.
“Tomorrow is Friday. He has this big gala to go to at the Linden Hotel. The cleaners already called about his tux being ready. I’ll pick that up at lunch today.”
“Does he like going to political parties?” It hadn’t slipped Kalina’s mind that Roman could be shielded by some higher-up in the US government, hence explaining why they hadn’t been able to pin anything on him up to this point. Besides, that was the name of the game here in DC—I wash your back, you wash mine. It would be no surprise if there was a contact or two in government helping him. “Does he usually take a date?”
Mel stopped. Her head tilted again in that way that Kalina was beginning to realize meant she had questions coming. “Are you interested in him? Of course you are,” she answered herself. “Every woman with eyes is hot for Rome. But let me give you a piece of advice, he doesn’t like timid women. So if you want him, go for it. Don’t dilly-dally around. Just make your move.”
They were back at Kalina’s cubicle by this time so she stopped, looked at Melanie Keys, and admitted she liked the woman. “I won’t be making any move. He’s not my type. I just remember seeing articles in the paper about his very active love life.”
“Lies,” Mel said quickly then sipped her coffee. “They print what they want, what they think’ll sell papers. He’s actually very discreet in who he dates and when. Hey, let’s do lunch. There’s a great sandwich place on Pennsylvania and it’s near the dry cleaners.”