VEE. “Tonia, tell Ravenscraft we have that civil hearing set up for Monday. I think our pile is bigger than theirs, and we should get the house returned,” I said over my shoulder into my desk phone as I looked at underground fight clubs in Austin on the internet.

Attempting to maintain a level of focus at work since I met Michael was clearly next to, if not entirely, impossible. I enjoyed doing anything with him; even sitting on the couch together was more enjoyable than about anything else I could ever think of doing alone. He was a take-me-or-leave-me type of guy, and there was nothing about him I would change if I had an opportunity to do so.

I liked him just the way he was. It had only been about three weeks since we started dating, and in many respects trying to remember life without him was difficult to even recall. Life with him satisfied me to no end. He often described, or attempted to describe how he felt, and he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He stumbled with his choice of words and phrasing - attempting to portray what he wanted to say to a point he sometimes butchered his thoughts into unintelligible muddle.

“I have Ravenscraft on two, I told him you were in court. He wants to know the odds of winning,” Tonia’s voice crackled over the speaker on my desk phone.

“Fuck, Tonia. I’m busy. Tell him you text me before I walked into court. I’d say based on what I believe, ninety percent, based on what I know, seventy. Fuck it. Tell him we’ll get the house back as long as they don’t have proof of what he did with the real estate. Hell, it was in his nephew’s name, we should be fine,” I barked.

“So…” she hesitated.

“Tell him eighty,” I snapped.

“Okay, eighty it is, thanks,” the phone clicked as she hung up.

A criminal case and a civil case are two completely different animals in the eye of the Federal Court. A criminal case, according to law, must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. If the jury has reasonable doubt, the defendant is found not guilty. In a civil case, however, the case is decided by a preponderance of evidence. The two sides - prosecution and defense, present their support of their respective case to the court. Whoever has more evidence to support their case, wins. The prosecution already has evidence of guilt; it’s required to allow a Grand Jury to indict a person, charging them with the crime. The defendant only has to provide an amount of evidence which insinuates innocence exceeding the prosecution’s pile to the contrary.

Ravenscraft had laundered millions of dollars through his real estate ventures. The money was obtained from the illicit sales of weapons. The illicit sales of weapons allowed a federal search warrant which immediately uncovered evidence of money laundering. Ultimately, he was indicted by a Grand Jury for both. The weapons charges were dropped after evidence presented by yours truly in support of the confidential informant being addicted to drugs at the time of his testimony to the undercover agents. His testimony was used to start the investigation and to indict my client.

A snitch with an addiction to pain killers cost the federal government millions of dollars of revenue in seizures. One more small civil case, and the entire thing would be tossed out the window. I often wondered who upstairs pulls the strings of determining who walks away and who does not. It’s sickening at times, to say the least.

“Mrs. Simon, Mr. Ripton is here to see you,” Tonia said cheerily.

“Here?” I clicked the mouse and shut the window on the computer I had open.

“Yes ma’am,” she responded.

“Send him back,” I responded as I shuffled paperwork to the side of my desk.

He walked through the door into my office as I was trying to look busy at my desk. I looked up expecting to see him dressed in his shorts, a ribbed tank top, and his canvas sneakers. I saw nothing of the sort. As I heard him enter I looked up and saw…

Damn you Michael Allen Ripton.

Flowers.

It was all I could do to try to maintain some sort of professional appearance and keep calm. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from quivering as I dropped the handful of paperwork onto the desk. At that moment, there was nothing in my office but Michael, me and what appeared to be at least two dozen roses.

“Oh my God. Are those for me?” I asked, trying my best not to lose my composure.

“Yep. The guy at the flower place asked if I wanted him to deliver ‘em. I said why the fuck would I want some schmuck to deliver flowers to my girl?” he smiled as he placed the vase on the edge of my desk.

I swallowed heavily.

My girl.

I officially had a little girl moment. His spoken words caused goose bumps to rise on my arms. As he pushed the flowers toward the center of my desk he looked up and smiled again.

“Don’t want ‘em to fall over. Asked for a dozen, and it looked like a really small arrangement of ‘em. So I said go ahead and give me two dozen, but it still looked small. Got two and a half dozen. They couldn’t stuff three in the vase. Got a card too,” he pulled a card from his back pocket and placed it on the desk.

“Don’t read the card till after I leave, okay?” he asked as he shifted his gaze from left to right.

I had received flowers before. Typically when I received them, they brought feelings of joy, affection, appreciation and love. The delivery of these flowers brought something different. I felt almost sick – in a good way. My stomach fluttering, arms full of goose bumps and incapable of speaking, I bit my lip and nodded. I stared at the flowers as my heart filled with joy. He was doing it. He was tipping the scales.

He bent at the waist and buried his face in the roses and drew a long slow breath through his nose. He straightened up, looked out the window and exhaled slowly.

“They’re uhhm, red roses,” he said as he pointed at them and smiled again.

I’m sure not too many people had ever described Ripp as being adorable. As he stood and smiled, to me, he was absolutely adorable. I continued to bite my lip and nod. I’m sure to him I looked like a damned fool. I was afraid if I tried to speak I’d lose my composure. My father in the hospital, my drug trafficking client on the run and my potential future boyfriend bringing me thirty-two roses was simply more than this poor little girl could handle at the moment.

“You like ‘em?” he expression changed from smiling to an almost disappointment.

“No. Love,” I made an effort to swallow the grapefruit sized lump in my throat.

“I, uhhm…I love them,” I said as I held my arms outstretched.

He took a few steps to meet me and wrapped his arms around me. As he hugged me, he may or may not have realized it, but my feet were several inches from the floor. Suspended in his arms, my legs dangling over the floor, I allowed my shoes to drop. As my heart rose into my throat, I closed my eyes.

And.

Silently gave myself to him.