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Her law school degree was so new that the ink hadn't dried on it yet.

Mia Fey, newly minted defense attorney, had been hired straight out of law school by a kindly mountain of a man named Marvin Grossberg. She'd earned grades right near the top of her class and was thorough, methodical, and logical. Grossberg had been obviously pleased to offer the brilliant, pretty girl a position as a junior partner at his firm, and she had been delighted to accept. His offer had made her just beside herself with joy, and for weeks afterwards, she'd had dreams of all the court cases she would win. All those innocent people she'd save from going to jail! And perhaps, someday she'd even be able to clear her mother's muddied name. The future was so bright, it seemed incredible, and she felt as if she floated perhaps an inch off the ground wherever she walked.

As her actual first day at the offices neared, her confidence grew a little less sure. The crisp late November morning she was due to show at Grossberg & Co. Law Offices found her strung out on sheer nerves and tired from having been able to catch only a few hours' sleep the night before. Nevertheless, she made sure her apperance was impeccable and completely suited to a courtroom; not a hair was out of place, and her skirted suit set was immaculately, crisply starched. Pulling her little VW Beetle into the Grossberg parking lot, she parked it near the back, then paused to check her makeup for the tenth time in the mirror.

Unusually for her, she'd had three cups of coffee that morning. It was all just in an effort to wake up. The coffee had only succeeded in making her more jittery, and she laughed at her own waxen expression. /It's not as if I'm going to go feed myself to the lions,/ she thought. /It's just Marvin Grossberg, a good man, and his partners. I'm sure I'll do just fine./

Stepping out of the car, she unconsciously rubbed the magatama hanging decoratively around her throat for luck. Taking a deep breath to calm her butterflies, she locked the car and turned to face her future. The walk to the front door of the offices couldn't have been more than thirty feet, but to Mia, it felt like a mile. She had the oddest urge to knock before entering and, smiling at herself, pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The big desk stood empty before her; the receptionist was evidently busy somewhere else. Indecisively, she stood in place for a few long moments as she took everything in - the large framed painting on the wall, the shelves lined with thick and very heavy law books, the expensive mahogany of the waiting room furniture. Everything about this place suggested 'prosperous law office.' The muffled, quiet tick of the clock, even, seemed refined in a way that spoke of old money.

It was a new world for Mia, whose life until that time had been a remote village that specialized in two things: farming and channeling. She knew she'd have to get used to such surroundings. And indeed, there was something grounding and comforting in the dark woods and potted ferns. Her eyes straying to the painting once more, the sound of footsteps took some time to penetrate her awareness. Looking up with a start, she saw what was easily one of the most attractive men she had ever laid eyes on walking down the hall towards her, a coffee cup in his hand.

His shirt, fire engine red, suited the rich mocha brown of his skin perfectly. He was dressed in an immaculately fitted vest that had to have been tailored specifically for him, it fit that well. Red seemed like such an improbable color for an attorney to wear, though - who was he? Did he work here? Perhaps he was an intern. Yet, he looked a bit too old for that, and he certainly walked through the hall as if he'd done so a thousand times before. He works here, she decided, feeling her cheeks flush a bit. My new coworker. Good.

Time to make that good first impression. Confidence, a smile. "Hi," she said, and bit her lower lip. "I mean... I'm Mia Fey. Attorney, uh, at law. I'm new here," she said, stating the obvious as she held out her hand. He was so distractingly handsome that she'd stumbled over her own tongue. That was not the way to impress him!

Her breath caught as he gallantly kissed the back of her hand instead of shaking it. This man was as smooth as glass and utterly, devastatingly charming.

"Mr. Armando," she said, her voice a little higher than she'd have liked. Even the way he wrapped his lips around the coffee cup and tilted his head back to swallow was distracting. "I'm pleased to meet you, too. How many cases? Er... uh, none. I just graduated. Everyone has to start somewhere," she said a bit lamely. "Mr. Grossberg seemed to think I have what it takes to do this, though, and I'm looking forward to taking my first case." She flashed him a confident smile.

There, that sounded professional, sure of herself, and not at all high-school-girl-dazzled-by-the-nearest-attractive-male.

She realized she was staring at his stubble. Or was it just a very trim beard? It made him look very rugged. Law offices, she reminded herself. "Are you an attorney with this firm, Mr. Armando?"

Mr. Armando had such an easy confidence when he spoke that it invited the listener in, made them feel as if they were part of a club that involved only the two of them, she thought. Following him to his office, she nodded as he mentioned the new cases despite the fact that she was following him and thus he wouldn't be able to see her.

Lord, but the man was well-built. Broad, square solid shoulders that tapered to a trim, doubtlessly muscular waist. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to flicker lower. Yes, his rear was as firm as the rest of his body. Idly wondering if he already had a girlfriend - well, he had to have one; there was no way a man this magnificent was unattatched - she stepped into his office.

Which smelled of the most delicious coffee aroma she'd ever caught wind of. Mia herself tended to brew midrange-priced stuff, not caring too much about the taste so long as the caffeine in it did its job to wake her up. The scent alone of this coffee beggared the stuff she ordinarily drank. "... That smells amazing," she said, moving to the middle of the room to get out of his way so that he could step inside. Was it her imagination, or were there two coffee pots brewing? It was a bit odd to have coffee for the entire office brewing in one of the partners' offices, she thought. Wouldn't that be something you'd keep near the back or close to a secretary or intern? Surely both of these pots couldn't be for him alone.

"Thanks, no," she said, smiling regretfully, a slight frission running through her at the easy endearment he'd used. He probably called every woman he met by that name, but the way it had rolled off his tongue had made it sound like he'd really meant it for her and her alone. Mr. Armando was in the right profession, she thought. His charm alone probably won him many hopeless cases.

The coffee really did smell wonderful. "I had three cups already this morning. I was so nervous that I didn't sleep well last night. It smells great, though. Perhaps tomorrow morning I'll be able to take you up on your offer?"

Mia's eyes caught the picture, and her face fell fractionally. /Rats. I knew he had to be married. I bet that little boy is his./ "What's your wife's name?" she asked with forced lightness. "That's your son, I'm sure?"

On the desk, cases waited. Real-life, actual people in trouble were waiting for the Grossberg law firm to defend them and their honor, and in some cases, their lives. Yet, it didn't all quite seem real yet. Mia had spent lots of time interning in law offices and in courts, and both environments were long since familiar to her, but she expected that it probably wouldn't be until she stood alone in the defense bench that it would really seem -real.-

Mia colored as Mr. Armando explained that the picture wasn't what she'd taken it to be. "Oh," she said a tad weakly, feeling both foolish and quite relieved as he held up his ringless hand as proof. "Good."

/Did I really just say 'good?' out loud? I really need to get a grip on myself./ Following his gesture, she looked from the picture back to the files on the desk. There were three of them, each one as thick as a novel. It would be an excellent distraction and an aid to help her refocus herself on her new employment were she to lose herself in them. The color in her face only intensified, however, as his already deep voice lowered slightly into a soft velvet rumble, a rumble which sent a bolt of soft electricity straight through her body to tingle in a place that had no business whatsoever reacting in any way within a law firm. /I'm supposed to lose myself in my employment, not my fellow employees!/

Mia was ordinarily an extremely levelheaded gal. A spirit medium had to be, after all; they saw and performed things that would scare more ordinary people witless as a matter of routine. And yet, this man in the red shirt with the liquid chocolate brown eyes had succeeded in not only knocking her off-balance the moment they'd met, but he'd kept her there.

... And it was really warm in the room. Really warm. Shifting her jacket slightly to reveal just a fraction more skin, she wished she could shuck the thing off entirely. Accidentally meeting his eyes - how could a man's expression look so smolderinginly come-hither yet gently amused at the same time? - she bit her lower lip, blushed fiercely, and grabbed randomly at the first folder on the desk.

Flipping it open, she read the abstract. A murder case, of course. The Grossberg offices were known to specialize in them. Pictures followed, as did police reports and witness statements. Mia did not flinch at the photos of either the crime scene or of the autopsy; she'd seen plenty of both in school and as an intern. "I'll read through this one, if you don't mind," she said. "Then perhaps we can discuss it?" /Over dinner?/ her brain supplied helpfully.

Mia nodded, that damnably molasses-dark voice of his making her receding blush rise once more. Settling on the leather-covered sofa to one side of the room, she smiled at him, then settled down to read.

She had excellent focus (most of the time, when not distracted by handsome coffee drinking lawyers, that was) and was soon engrossed in the case. A couple hours slipped past as the file grew smaller. It was an interesting one; their client, a man deeply in debt, stood accused of murdering his wealthy elderly great-uncle for his money.

After a long while, she looked up, perfectly collected, an expression of cautious doubt on her face. All ready to express her opinions on the case, she was summarily distracted by the look of absolute concentration on Diego's face. As a lawyer, she'd have expected him to have that expression while bent over an urgent legal brief or a dense law book. Neither of these things had produced that expression; he was savoring another cup of coffee, his eyes mostly closed. Was it his seventh or eighth?... Awestruck, she watched him swallow, watched that throat work and bob. Those lips moved so pliantly...

He really did need to open a window or turn the air conditioning on, she thought. /Never mind that it's late November./

"I don't think, um, that Mr. Brown is guilty," she managed to say once he caught her staring at him. "Certainly the evidence is against him, but it doesn't add up. There are too many inconsistencies and contradictions. I..." She trailed off under the heat of his gaze. /You are too distracting for words./ "... can I call you Diego, since we'll be working together?"