Off The Record Ch. 25

And we're back. A little bit of a longer chapter this time since I've been slacking ;)

An update on where we're at with the story--we're looking at about two or three chapters left in the series, but there will definitely be more content featuring these two characters. I'm planning on writing some bonus chapters so keep an eye our for those once the series officially ends! And as I mentioned a few chapters ago, Harper and Morgan will be prominent side characters in the next series I'm planning on publishing here, so it definitely won't be the last we see of them.

For those of you who have mentioned that you'd like some more emotional development rather than just sex, I hear you, and we're going to get some glimpses of their life together once the trial is fully over and they can publicly date.

Hope you enjoy :)

All characters are over 18.

***

Harper had just stepped into the diner to grab a late lunch when she felt her phone ringing in her pocket.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was Erin. Harper frowned. It was strange for her to call in the middle of the afternoon.

Harper didn't even get the chance to greet her before Erin started talking.

"Hey, did you leave the courthouse?" There was an urgency to Erin's voice that gave Harper pause.

"Yeah," Harper said, leaning against the wall so she could hear her better. "The jury was sent out around eleven o'clock this morning. I'm down the street, just about to--"

"Go back now," Erin demanded. "The verdict is in."

"What?!" Harper shouted in the middle of the restaurant. She got a few odd looks from people passing by. "But it's only been three hours."

Such a quick deliberation did not bode well for the defense. Statistically speaking, juries that took only a few hours to make their decision came back with a guilty verdict more often than not.

Morgan was probably losing her mind right now.

"I'm on my way."

It seemed that everyone except for Harper had gotten the memo, because making her way back to the courthouse was like an extreme sport. Every news outlet and hundreds of curious civilians had congregated by the front steps, waiting to hear the outcome of the trial that had kept the city on the edge of its seat for months.

Harper pushed her way through the crowds to get back to the media gallery of the courtroom, muttering half-hearted apologies as she knocked into people in her rush to make it in time.

When she finally made it back to her seat, the jury was just beginning to file in, the prosecution and defense teams both sitting at attention.

Harper's gaze settled on the back of the brunette head that was turned toward the jury box, focused on the people she had been trying to reach for months now with her client's story.

Judge Richter, looking incredibly exhausted, gestured with one hand.

"Please rise for the reading of the verdict."

To those who didn't know her well, Morgan appeared to be holding her composure together perfectly, her face betraying nothing. But Harper could see the tension in her shoulders and in the small lines that formed around her mouth. She was nervous.

A hush fell over the courtroom as the foreman on the jury stood and cleared his throat.

"In the case of the state of New York versus Edward Sterling, we, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on the count of first degree murder."

The courtroom exploded.

***

Holy shit.

They fucking won.

When Morgan had heard that the jury was ready mere hours after they'd rested, she was convinced that they'd lost and that all of the hard work had been for nothing.

The few minutes following the reading of the verdict had been a blur of shock and elation.

Morgan had vague memories of Edward squeezing her half to death in a fierce hug, his emotion showing in the way he profusely thanked her.

Joel had embraced her as well, Morgan's heart swelling with joy as he looked at her with pride and approval.

But the wildest part of it all had been her interaction with the district attorney.

Angela had extended her hand in a firm handshake before pulling her in close, her lips hovering just over her ear. "Congratulations. Come to my office when you're finished up with press."

So that was where Morgan was headed following her sendoff to Edward from the opposite side of the courthouse.

Despite the acquittal, there were undoubtedly hundreds of protestors outside who were convinced of Edward's guilt, and Morgan didn't want to risk any sort of vigilante justice.

She'd arranged for Edward to leave the courthouse today through a well-hidden, private entrance where their van would be able to slip in and out unseen and get him somewhere safe, away from the prying eyes of the media.

Lost in thought as she made her way down the deserted hallway, Morgan just barely stopped herself from crying out in surprise when two strong hands shot out from the shadows of an alcove to her right, grabbing her and hauling her inside.

The coolness of the stone wall bled through her shirt before soft lips found hers, kissing her slowly and warming her up immediately.

Morgan knew those lips.

"Congratulations, counselor." Harper's quiet, husky voice filled the space between them. "How do you feel?"

Morgan grinned at her. "Fucking amazing," she said, still a little breathless from their kiss. "How did you get here?"

Harper smirked at her and flashed her press badge. "Friends in high places." She ran her hands over Morgan's shoulders. "And I wanted my exclusive with the hot, young lawyer who just made history."

Morgan laughed, surprised to feel a warm blush creeping across her cheeks at Harper's praise.

"How do you want to celebrate?" Harper squeezed at her waist. "I was thinking I could cook for you. Whatever you want."

Morgan smiled down at her, marveling at the fact that this was her reality now.

"Angela wants to talk to me at her office." She reached into her bag and grabbed the key to her apartment, pressing it into Harper's hand. "Head to my place. I'll be there soon."

Harper smiled as her fingers curled around the key. "And what am I supposed to do all alone at your apartment?"

"Put on something pretty while you wait for me." Morgan wiggled her eyebrows at her as she spun them, switching their positions so that Harper's back was flush with the wall.

Morgan pressed against her, peppering her face and neck with kisses until she was giggling, the adorable sound amplifying Morgan's good mood.

With a reluctant groan, Harper placed her hands on Morgan's shoulders and pushed gently. "You shouldn't keep Angela waiting." A hint of uneasiness entered her expression. "I wonder what she wants."

Morgan shrugged. "Probably just to touch base after the hell that we just went through."

Harper hummed, tapping one foot against the ground.

"Remember what I said, Morgan." Harper chewed on her bottom lip, clearly skeptical. "She's dangerous. Just please be careful."

Morgan dipped her head again, kissing her softly. "I will be." In fact, she already had a few ideas on precautions she would take before speaking with Angela. "I'll see you later."

As she turned away, Harper caught her hand. When Morgan turned to face her again, Harper threw her a crooked smile and said, "I love you."

Butterflies exploded in Morgan's stomach, their wings beating against her rib cage. "I love you too."

***

The Manhattan District Attorney's Office was practically a ghost town by the time Morgan had finished up with press and then debriefed with Joel and Edward.

The lone receptionist looked to be just about ready to go home for the day, packing up her bag as Morgan approached the front desk.

Glancing up at her approaching footsteps, the young woman frowned and dropped back down into her chair, tapping her computer to life. "Good evening, Miss Monroe. I'm not sure the district attorney is expecting anyone--"

"I'll take it from here."

They both turned to see Angela poking her head around the corner of the hallway, a tired smile painted across her face. "You can head out for the day," she said, turning her attention to her receptionist.

Curling her index finger into a come hither motion directed at Morgan, Angela spun on her heel without a word and started walking back down the hallway toward her office.

"Take a seat," Angela said when they reached the doorway, gesturing to the leather couch in front of her desk. "Wherever you're comfortable."

Morgan moved to the couch cautiously and sat, her guard all the way up. She eyed Angela as she moved around the room, needlessly tidying up. It wasn't quite nervous energy, but it was something close to it.

It was so strange to see her like this, relaxed in a way Morgan had never experienced when she was in a courtroom with her. Morgan had never imagined Angela doing something as mundane as straightening up her office.

She had taken her hair out of the strict bun she'd had it in that day, her short blonde hair hanging around her face in loose waves. Her blazer hung from the back of her office chair, leaving her in a simple white button-down tucked neatly into her fitted black pants.

"How about a drink?" Angela asked, moving toward a cabinet in the back corner of the room. "After what we've been through these last few months, I think we both need it."

"Sure," Morgan said. She didn't think anything could drag her down from the high she was riding right now. And now she was having a drink with Angela Moore after besting her in court? It was surreal.

"You are an incredibly talented lawyer," Angela said. "There aren't many as young as you are who could have handled a trial of this caliber."

Morgan felt her chest swell with pride. It was insane, being complimented by someone she'd been looking up to for the better part of a decade, since she'd been in law school.

However, she still felt that Angela's praise was unwarranted. Morgan waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I appreciate you saying that, but I would have been entirely lost without the rest of my team. Joel in particular did a lot of the heavy lifting."

"Humility too?" Angela shot her a smirk over her shoulder. "You're just the whole package, aren't you, Miss Monroe?"

She made her way back to the couch, two whiskey tumblers pinched between the fingers of one hand, and a bottle of scotch in the other. Instead of taking the seat at her desk across from Morgan, she sat down right next to her, pivoting her body so that they were facing each other.

She handed Morgan a glass before opening the bottle and pouring a few fingers worth into each of them.

Angela sighed heavily as she gave Morgan a tired smile. "Here's to a war well fought," she said, bringing her glass to Morgan's in cheers.

Morgan brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. It was smooth as it made its way down her throat, and it tasted just as expensive as she would expect from a bottle of alcohol belonging to Angela Moore's personal collection.

"So," Morgan said, taking another sip. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a private audience with the esteemed district attorney herself?"

Morgan didn't want to be rude, but she had a beautiful woman waiting for her at her apartment, and whatever this was could have probably waited until the next day. She'd almost reached out to Angela to reschedule, but sheer curiosity had won out in the end.

Angela regarded her thoughtfully, her lips twitching at the corners. "Can't it just be two women having a drink to bury the hatchet after they've been sworn enemies for the past few months?"

Morgan simply gave her a look.

With a good-natured eyeroll, Angela said, "You're too smart for your own good."

She shifted on the couch, resting her arm across the back of it as she settled in.

"What would it take for you to consider leaving the dark side over there on Sixth Avenue?" Angela's amber eyes studied Morgan's face, that natural inquisitive intensity shining through.

Morgan cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

Angela gave her a patient smile. "I mean," she said slowly, crossing one of her legs over her knee, "that there's an opening for an Assistant District Attorney position at my office." She paused, eyes scanning for a reaction. "And I'd like you to have it."

Morgan felt both of her eyebrows shoot into her hairline. "Are you serious?" She blurted out, immediately slapping a hand over her own mouth, embarrassed by her outburst.

Angela laughed, brightly and loudly. "Deadly serious," she said. She sobered considerably before continuing. "Morgan, do you recognize the magnitude of what you've just accomplished? You just spearheaded a campaign to free an innocent man that made the city of New York look foolish." She let out another short laugh. "At twenty-nine years old, you've not only succeeded but excelled in winning a career-making case that will make you a household name for years to come."

She drank deeply from her glass, almost emptying it.

"That being said," she continued, "you shouldn't rest on your laurels. You have the potential to have a monumental career. And it's not every day that a defendant like Edward Sterling will come around."

She leaned forward. "As a prosecutor, you'd be landing more heavy-hitting cases than you'd even know what to do with, taking on the most dangerous criminals in the city, always making a headline."

Morgan thought for a moment, running her fingertip absently around the rim of her glass.

Morgan really wasn't in her line of work for glory. Sure, there had been a time in her life when she'd chased those lofty dreams of being the brilliant, efficient prosecutor who put bad guys away, but she was pretty sure every pre-law student had had that same exact fantasy at some point or another.

After spending time working with Joel and making the connections that she had through the Innocence Project, her eyes had been opened to just how raw of a deal some people received when they were pitted against the power of state and federal prosecution.

It was actually quite terrifying to see firsthand just how botched the justice system could be under the wrong circumstances or with the wrong person in charge, mishandling evidence and sending people to prison only to discover years or even decades later that they were innocent all along.

And Morgan could honestly say that she had never taken on a case solely for the paycheck. She enjoyed building a rapport with the clients she represented. In fact, she hadn't ever thought past her career with Marshall & Brooks because she hadn't planned on leaving; she loved what she did and she loved the people she worked with.

But Angela's offer was undeniably tempting. The pay would undoubtedly be higher, and there would be no shortage of cases rolling through the office, landing on her desk; Morgan would no longer have to rely on her interpersonal abilities to land clients.

Morgan stared hard at Angela, trying to see if there was another angle that she was missing, if there was any sign of deception in her expression. "You're actually offering me this job?" She asked, her words dripping with disbelief.

Angela only smiled at her and her obvious skepticism. "I can have the offer written up and sent over to you first thing tomorrow morning. Pay, benefits, everything."

Morgan averted her gaze, chewing on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully.

She wanted to talk to Harper about this and get her opinion. A major change in her career would be something they'd need to discuss together, if they were going to have a future.

"Can I think about it?"

Angela reached over and placed a reassuring hand on her knee. "Of course, sweetheart." She cleared her throat. "And while you're thinking on it, remember to consider just how effective those pretty blue eyes would be working for my prosecution team."

Morgan had only been half-listening, her mind working a mile a minute as she thought about the conversation she'd be having with Harper later. "What..."

Her words died in her throat when she felt Angela's hand slide from her knee up her bare thigh, inching beneath the hem of her skirt.

She watched it happen as if in slow motion, everything coming to a halt around her. She blinked up at Angela, her brain conjuring questions that her tongue wouldn't allow her to voice.

Angela must have taken her silence as a good thing, because the tentative smile on her face grew.

"You're very beautiful, Morgan."

"I--" Morgan started and then cut herself off, still unable to comprehend what was happening.

It was only when Angela's hand started moving even higher that Morgan finally snapped out of her stupor, her hands catching the wandering fingertips making their way to her inner thigh.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was calm and quiet, refusing to jump to conclusions before she heard it explicitly from Angela's mouth.

Angela's lips curved into a feline smile as the fingers caught in Morgan's grasp flexed and then relaxed again, her thumb stroking across the back of Morgan's hand.

"I've heard through the grapevine that you prefer the company of women," she said, dark eyes searching Morgan's. "Is that not true?"

Morgan shook her head, so incredibly confused. "No, I--"

"No?" Angela didn't sound convinced. "Because I have it on good authority that you do. Don't worry, Morgan, I'm well-versed in discretion." She shifted closer to Morgan on the couch, so close that their thighs were touching. "And I have a feeling that mouth has talents other than winning over a jury."

And with that, Angela leaned in, clearly intending to kiss her.

Morgan shot out of the chair, moving toward the door. "What the fuck, Angela?"

Angela just looked at her, her face an unreadable mask, as if she hadn't just come on to Morgan out of the blue.

"So," she said quietly, "I take it you aren't interested?"

Morgan gaped at her. "Interested in what, exactly?" She sputtered out. "The job? Or--or--" Morgan turned away and ran a hand through her hair, unable to even finish the sentence.

Because what the actual fuck? Was the job offer somehow conditionally dependent on whether Morgan agreed to sleep with her?

"God, I am so stupid," Morgan mumbled, rubbing at the headache forming at her temple. She knew it was too good to be true. Of course the job offer hinged on some fucked up, sexual favor.

"Not stupid, lovely. Just stupidly attractive." Angela stood and stalked toward Morgan, her mouth still curved into a predatory smile. "Almost too attractive. With a ridiculously sexy brain to go with that body."

"Angela," Morgan said, her voice low and threatening. "Do not touch me." While Angela appeared to be in stellar physical shape, she still had about fifteen years on Morgan, and if Morgan had to knock her on her ass to escape this situation, she would.

Angela's face fell, finally seeming to realize that Morgan wasn't playing hard to get. "I don't understand. Is it the age gap?"

Yes? Sort of? But the fact that Angela was older wasn't really the most glaringly obvious thing that was wrong with this picture.

"No, um..." Morgan trailed off, not wanting the rejection to hurt her feelings for some reason. She backed herself against the wall, trying to get her breathing under control. "It's not that." She went with a simple truth that covered all of her bases without revealing too much. "I'm seeing someone."

Angela's eyebrows raised at this, an amused smirk lifting the corner of her mouth. She sighed heavily, retreating to the coffee table to pour herself another three fingers of whiskey.

She turned to look at Morgan, pursing her lips as she swirled the dark liquor around her glass, like she was trying to decide what to say next.

"Miss Cassidy is welcome to join us, if you'd prefer."

Morgan's blood turned to ice in her veins, and her eyes snapped to Angela's, finding that those honey-colored irises were already locked onto her.

"I'm sorry?" Morgan's voice was nearly a growl, the undercurrent of warning clear in her tone. She mentally chastised herself, willing herself to keep her cool so that she didn't overplay her hand.

"Your journalist. Pretty little thing, isn't she?" Angela sipped at her drink, eyes alight with glee. "I think the three of us could have quite a good time together, don't you?"

Morgan froze and, like a wild animal backed into a corner, took a moment to compose herself and work through all possible escape routes in her mind.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," Morgan said, stalling for time. Time for what, she had no idea. Time to come up with a convincing lie.

"No?" Angela raised a sculpted eyebrow at her. "Gorgeous strawberry blonde hair, great legs, and an even better ass?" She sent her a patronizing smirk.

Morgan breathed in deeply through her nose, refusing to allow Angela's incendiary comments about Harper to get under her skin. It was exactly what she wanted--for Morgan to slip up and lose her temper, to let her feelings for Harper show on her face.

"I'm surprised none of that rings a bell, considering you've fucked her about a hundred times by now." Angela clicked her tongue at her. "Sleeping with a journalist, Morgan? How naughty of you." She ran her eyes down the length of Morgan's body. "Although, it's hard to really blame Harper for her part in all of it. I mean, look at you."

Everything within Morgan stilled. The gloves were off, and the task now became navigating this conversation in a way that didn't piss Angela off so much that both her and Harper's lives imploded.

She looked Angela directly in the eye. "You're bluffing."

"What makes you so sure?" Angela asked, unflinching.

"Because," Morgan bit out, "if you had anything solid, you would have leaked it and sunk the entire trial."

Angela tilted her head with another infuriating smile. "Would I have?"

Morgan once again took a moment to think.

With a reputation as notorious as Angela's, there was no way she would ever risk coming on to Morgan unless she had something equally as damning in her back pocket as leverage.

That solidified it for Morgan; she definitely knew. And she had evidence.

"I've been in this line of work for a long time, Miss Monroe," Angela said slowly, a dreamlike tone to her voice. "And do you know what never ceases to amaze me?"

Morgan said nothing, still not moving a muscle where she was standing a few feet from the door.

Angela looked up and smiled at her teasingly, like she wanted nothing more than for Morgan to play along with her cruel little game. "What some people will do for money."

Morgan narrowed her eyes, not sure where Angela was headed with that comment.

"Clara Cassidy didn't think twice about selling her daughter down the river."

Morgan's heart plummeted out of her chest and through the floor, dropping several stories to the street below.

Harper had been right--her mother had done exactly as she'd feared and outed them to Angela and her team.

Morgan channeled every lesson she had ever learned about maintaining her composure into that moment, fighting to keep her rising panic out of her expression.

Angela was watching her intently, her whiskey brown eyes darting across her face, clearly searching for any sign of the truth in Morgan's reaction.

"Like I said," Morgan said through her teeth, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Angela let out a sigh. "Denying it until the end, huh? Can't say I blame you."

Without breaking eye contact, Angela pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened an app, dramatically dropping her index finger to the center of the screen.

A recording began to play, and with every word, Morgan's hope that this situation could be resolved through blatant denial flaked off, bit by tattered bit.

The audio was from that night at Harper's apartment, beginning from the moment they'd stumbled upon Harper's mother in the hallway. It captured everything--Harper's argument with Clara and Morgan's subsequent interruption.

Morgan fought the urge to cringe outwardly when Clara's sneering voice filled the quiet that had fallen over the office. "You're that lawyer from TV."

She kept her gaze locked onto the cell phone in Angela's hand, refusing to meet her gaze, knowing exactly just how smug the older woman probably looked right then as she watched Morgan deal with this confrontation.

It was so much worse than they'd thought. Clara hadn't sought revenge after their encounter that night by going to Angela--she'd already been in contact with her before she had arrived. She had come with the intention of gaining information, and she'd been fucking wired. Or, at the very least, she had recorded their conversation on her phone.

The recording ended with Clara's ominous warning, and the silence that fell upon them in Angela's office was deafening.

They stared at each other, waiting for someone to make the next blow. But Morgan's one advantage in this situation was that she was a lawyer, and a damn good one at that.

"I'm not sure what you think you heard on that recording," Morgan said, stalking closer to Angela, "but all I heard was a sad, pathetic woman throwing out insults and threats because the daughter she hasn't given a shit about her entire life refused to enable her shitty choices."

Morgan stopped right in front of Angela, staring down at her. "And I didn't hear any names. It's all hearsay and you know it. So what the fuck is your angle?"

For the life of her, Morgan couldn't comprehend Angela's play here. If she'd known about her and Harper for this long, why had she allowed the trial to extend through to the verdict?

While it was a weak defense, what Morgan had said was true. Morgan had never formally introduced herself to Clara, and she nor Harper had confirmed her name when Clara had recognized her.

And Clara's speculation on the state of their sexual relationship was just that--speculation. Given the context of the rest of the argument, her accusation could easily be explained away by Clara's anger at Harper refusing to give in to her demands.

At the very worst, someone might be able to say that Harper and Morgan were pushing the boundaries of their professional relationship by spending time together so late at night.

"Sit down, Morgan," Angela said, smiling up at her, patting the arm of the couch that Morgan had just vacated. "Finish your drink."

With one more glare, Morgan moved back to the couch stiffly, sitting down reluctantly, her back ramrod straight as Angela reclaimed her spot next to her.

"What exactly did you think was going to happen here, tonight?" Morgan had hit her limit, and the anger that she felt leached into her voice. "You thought I'd agree to have sex with you if you offered me a job, and when that didn't work, you thought you'd pull blackmail out of your back pocket?"

Offense flashed across Angela's face and she sat back like Morgan had slapped her. "That isn't what's happening here." She shook her head and held up her hands. "I prefer my women to be entirely willing, Morgan. I'm not a fucking monster."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Morgan knew that by asking that question, she was essentially admitting fault, but she had to know the answer. It was the only way to ensure they could be prepared for what might happen next.

"Because I'd rather have you work for me. And I don't care that you're fucking a journalist," Angela said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We've all done something along that vein over the course of our careers. In fact, it was refreshing to learn that you're not as straight-laced as you appear to be."

Morgan was so confused that her head was spinning. "Then what--"

"The recording," Angela cut her off, "is collateral." She searched Morgan's face as her words settled. "For what I've revealed to you here this evening."

It took a moment for her words to land. "You're not out," Morgan said quietly, Angela's meaning finally dawning on her. "And you're worried I'll say something."

Angela pursed her lips, casting her eyes downward, looking uneasy for the first time tonight. "I was simply testing the waters with you tonight. I thought that maybe, given that our preferences seemed to align, and that we work in the same field, that there could be something to explore between us." She met her gaze again, a desperate pleading in her eyes. "I thought that you would understand, what with you hiding your--"

"I'm not closeted, Angela." Morgan let out an incredulous laugh. "It's just that the fact that I'm a lesbian doesn't exactly come up regularly in court."

Angela's mouth snapped shut, and the look in her eyes was almost tragic. Despite the rage she was still feeling toward her, Morgan couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for her. Had she lived her whole life pretending to be someone she's not? Had she really thought that she and Morgan could connect on that level, on the fear that being their authentic selves would result in public backlash?

But as much as Morgan could sympathize with that sentiment, her priority was to do everything in her power to protect Harper.

So now it was time for a little reveal of her own.

With surprisingly steady hands, Morgan drew her phone out of her pocket, silently thanking the powers that be for Harper and her brilliant brain.

"I would never publicly out someone," Morgan said, and she meant it. That was a cruelty that not even her worst enemy deserved. "But you should know that I've been recording our conversation since I stepped foot in this building."

Morgan flashed the phone screen at her, and she watched the realization flash in Angela's eyes, along with the briefest spark of fear.

Morgan let her words simmer between them, making sure that Angela was aware of what she was saying. "Do we have an understanding, Angela?"

She watched as the district attorney swallowed hard. "We do."

"Good." Morgan threw back the rest of her scotch and moved to stand up. She was done with this conversation.

She placed her hand on the arm of the couch and leaned in, her face within inches of Angela's. "Harper trained me well to protect myself around untrustworthy individuals. If I were you, I'd do well to remember this agreement that we have. Because if you do anything to harm Harper or her career, I will ruin you."

Angela just looked at her, seemingly resigned to the fact that she had lost the upper hand.

"Because I happen to know a journalist who would love to sink her teeth into the story of how Manhattan's esteemed district attorney offers up ADA positions in exchange for sexual quid pro quo."

Angela raised her eyebrows, looking impressed, of all things. "See, it's that fire that I would have loved to have on my team. The job is still yours if you want it," she said, a wry smile tilting the corners of her lips. "And my other offer for you and Miss Cassidy still stands as well, should you ever be tempted to take me up on it."

Morgan huffed out a breath, baffled by this woman's audacity. "Yeah, I think I'm good on both accounts."

She shrugged her jacket on and grabbed her bag, prepared to leave this woman and her empty threats in the dust behind her, but something stopped her as she reached for the doorknob.

"A bit of unsolicited advice Angela," Morgan said, looking back when she reached the doorway.

Amber eyes flashed up to meet hers.

"You are an incredibly successful, gorgeous woman who has been running this city for nearly the past two decades." Morgan lowered her voice. "And you're doing yourself and the women of New York an immense disservice by not allowing yourself to be happy."

Angela gave her a sad smile. "Thank you, Morgan." She hesitated for a moment. "For what it's worth, I wish you and Miss Cassidy nothing but the best, if it really is true love."

Rapping her knuckles on the doorframe twice, Morgan gave her a small smile before she turned and walked away.

***

When she walked in the door to her apartment thirty minutes later, Morgan was greeted with Harper's bright smile, which quickly faded when she saw the look on Morgan's face.

"What's wrong?"

Morgan sighed, kicking her shoes off slowly.

Harper was in front of her in an instant, hands cupping her jaw. "What happened?"

Morgan let out a short, high-pitched laugh that made her sound insane. "Um, well first Angela offered me a job as her newest ADA. And then she propositioned me for sex and invited you along for a threesome."

Harper choked on the breath she'd just taken. "She--she what?"

"I think it's safe to say that I won't be taking the job," Morgan replied in a monotone voice.

Harper seemed to take a moment to gather herself, still processing what Morgan had said.

"Did she assault you?" Harper's confusion quickly became anger, fire burning in her eyes. "I will fucking kill her, Morgan, I swear to god--"

Morgan reached out and took both of Harper's hands in hers. "No, she didn't. I didn't let it get that far."

She brushed a strand of hair behind Harper's ear. "She knew about us, but I handled it." Morgan dipped her head to capture her lips in a kiss before the panicked words that she could see building within Harper came pouring out of her.

She would tell Harper the whole story in a few minutes to set her mind at ease, but right now, she just wanted this kiss and how it felt to lean into Harper to be the only thing on her mind.

"It's over, love," Morgan whispered, pulling back. "There's no need to worry anymore."