I'd Rather Have You

Michael had absolutely had it with everyone and everything. He hated himself as it was. He didn’t need a reminder of what a cliché he was. He had heard every chirp possible from Blacker and Seguin. Fuck this he thought. He stood and pushed away from the table “Fuck this. I’ll find another attorney.” He growled as he slammed out of the room. Antigone stared after him. She had no idea hockey boys were this sensitive.

"Sit down." growled Claude.

"No! I am out of here!" with that being said Mike turned and slammed out of the door into the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” stated Giroux “He’s a little on edge. Plus, he took the red eye here from LA. It’s all been a little shocking. I’ll go get him.”

Antigone shook her head at her uncle Nestor and Giroux “No, it’s my fault. Let me go get him. I shouldn’t have mentioned the old story.”

“Non, ma belle it is not your fault. Better let me go in case I need to thump some sense into his thick Italian skull.” replied Giroux standing up. Antigone shook her head again and moved towards Claude and the door. She pushed Claude back into his seat as she made her way to the door.
"No worse than Greek." replied Antigone. Antigone noticed Mr. Del Zotto's phone on the table. She picked up the phone and winked at Giroux "I can handle him. I have two hard headed brothers and too many cousins to count. I'll bring him back in a few minutes. Besides he can't get off the floor without a key card to the elevator or stairs." He was pretty sure she could handle MDZ but could MDZ handle her.

Nestor Castellanos nodded his acceptance of what Antigone said. Giroux seemed to take it in stride. Claude chuckled and began telling Nestor about the upcoming training camp. Antigone came out of the conference room and leaned against the door. She’d made a mess of this and she needed to fix it. She pushed the curls escaping from the twist out of her face and made her way down the hall. She knew he couldn’t get far he would need a key card for the stairwell or the elevator. But with her luck he would charm Mira or one of the girls into letting him out, and that so would not work. Antigone almost ran face first into her Aunt Pavelina.

“Did you lose something?” asked her aunt her mouth quirky up into a knowing smile.

“I didn’t lose him.” sighed Antigone “I know where he’s headed, so that makes him not lost. Apparently he isn't fond of Greek mythology.”

“Always with the words, Antigone. Well either way, your handsome Italian boy is going to break the elevator or the stairwell door if you don't do something. He's a bit agitated." responded Pavelina

“Only what Thios Nestor taught me.” she answered smiling "I'll go get him, and he is not my anything."

“If only you would listen to others instead of just your Thios Nestor.” inflected Pavelina “We all want to help you.”

“I know, Thia.” she said striding down the hall “Keep Mira and the girls in the office so I can get him back in the conference room.”

“I’ll do my best, gliko mou.” she called after Antigone “But a raging Italian in our lobby is hard to miss.”

"I’m handling it!” yelled Antigone. She heard her aunt laugh again. Yelling was the Greek way of life. She was pretty sure it was part of the Italian mentality too.

Michael was pressing the button on the elevator. He’d tried the stairwell, but it required a key card. After swearing and hitting the elevator button a few more times, he’d realized it too needed a key card. He was trapped in the damn building. He was sure they were probably laughing at the stupid hockey player. Michael flopped down on the couch. Someone would eventually get off the elevator he just had to be patient. He sighed. Okay he growled. He wasn’t a patient man. He heard heels clicking on the hardwood floors. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was the girl from the conference room. He could smell her. Not some overly cloying cologne, but something else. She smelled like orange blossoms. What the fuck, thought Michael shaking his head. He didn’t need to be worrying about this chicks smell. But the smell dissipated as quickly as it came.

Antigone saw him again with his dark head boughed. He was even more disheveled. He had shed his suit coat and his tie. He had at some point rolled up the sleeves on his extremely wrinkled shirt. He looked utterly defeated. Maybe making him stay wasn’t the best plan. Maybe he needed to get away from the firm. Antigone walked into the secretarial pool.

“Let your papa know I’m taking our guest to over to the restaurant. Maybe he’ll be less surly after he’s fed." She told Mira. She left as Mira was calling out questions. She retrieved her purse and shoved her badge and gun inside. She made her way into the lobby.

Now he was going crazy. There was the orange blossom smell again. He was imagining her scent. He needed out of this fucking building. “Mr. Del Zotto.” he heard her voice and turned to look at her.

“I’m not going back in there, so you can turn around and go back to your uncle.” he spat without looking up. “Tell Claude it’s time to go.”

“Tell him yourself.” she replied walking past the couch to the elevator. She watched him pat his shirt pocket then his jacket pocket. She heard a string of curses that would make her brothers proud. Antigone stuck her keycard into the elevator and hit the button. “Looking for this?” she asked holding up the device.

“Fucking hell,” he responded holding his hand out “Give it to me.”

“Come get it." she responded “I’m a private investigator, not a fucking servant.”

Antigone heard him snort. Let him snort. She was damn good at her job. She would have this Echo pinned down quickly. “You expect me to believe you are a private investigator?”

“Believe what you want, Mr. Del Zotto.” she answered “My uncle obviously was wrong about needing my help on this case. In fact, I’m not sure we want to deal with this at all. We can’t have clients that throw tantrums and walk out." The elevator door dinged as it opened. He was up and heading directly towards her. She stepped onto the elevator and held out the phone. “Catch” she said tossing the phone. He grabbed it out of the air as the elevator doors began to close. His large hand then grabbed the elevator door before it closed. He pushed it back and climbed in the elevator with Antigone.

“I’m pretty sure private investigators don’t dress like stripper lawyers.” he as he looked down at Antigone. She laughed again. Why the fuck was she laughing at him again? “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

“Because you’re right.” she replied. He closed the space between them.

“So you aren’t really a private investigator?” he said “You here to represent Echo? Is this all some kind of joke to you all?”

Antigone rolled her eyes at him. Michael studied her for a minute. Did she really just roll her eyes at him? He had been right before, she was tiny. Without those fuck me shoes she would be barely 5ft. Her green eyes locked on to his before narrowing. He knew that look, it was usually preceded by his mother screaming at him like an Italian fishwife. “Mr. Del Zotto, I am private investigator. I have been working my way through school. I refuse to let my family, who own this firm, pay my way. I start Temple Law School in August. I’ve investigated hundreds of cases in this firm. I’m licensed and bonded. I can assure that the only thing you were right about, was the fact these are not my clothes. They are my cousins. Mira seems to be more your speed. If you had bothered at looking at anything we had to offer, you could have seen my credentials.”

Michael stepped closer to Antigone. He could definitely smell the orange blossom scent. He leaned close to her ear “I’m pretty sure I can see your credentials.” He replied smirking at Mira.

Antigone stepped even closer and looked up at MDZ “Thee mou eisai malakas!” she grounded out. She had never smacked a client, but she might make an exception. The elevator door opened and she pivoted on her heels and walked out. She headed out the door. Michael was on her heels.

“You’re going to call me an asshole and walk away?” he asked looking at her.

“Yes!” she called over her shoulder “Good luck with your stripper, Mr. Del Zotto.”

“I thought you said your uncle would be mad if I left?” he called after her.

“Yeah, well I don’t give a flying fuck what Nestor thinks. You are an asshole, and I have no intentions of helping you.”

Antigone started down the sidewalk towards her father’s restaurant. He was following her away from the firm. Her plan was working. If she could get him inside and feed him, maybe he would be able to talk to her. She picked up her pace. He kept up with her. She didn’t look back at him. She just kept walking.

“Wait!” he called. She ignored him. She kept heading for the restaurant.

“No point in waiting.” she replied “You’ve made yourself abundantly clear. I will not waste your time, Mr. Del Zotto.” She once again left him standing on the sidewalk. Okay, he’d been a dick. So far she had taken care of his headache, brought him his phone, and helped him escape from that office building. He could hear his mother’s voice ordering him to apologize. She was reaching for the door of the restaurant.

“Antigone!” he called “Wait!” She turned and waited for him on the marble step. Her breath caught. She liked the way he said her name. Well shit, thought Antigone. That came out of nowhere. He stepped up beside her. She stepped back against the big red door. He was close enough that she could feel the heat he was radiating. “I’m sorry. I am an asshole, and I've been a dick.”

Antigone looked at the stress marring his handsome face. She wanted to reach out and stroke away the worry. But she knew better. “You were listening when Nestor introduced me.”

“Antigone isn’t a common name.” he replied “I’m sorry. Let’s go back to the office. Roux will take off my head if he thinks I made you mad.”

“No,” she replied “I’m heading inside. You are free to join me or you can head back. Your choice. Either way will get you help with your situation, Mr. Del Zotto.”

He sighed “Mike” he replied “Call me Mike.” Before he had a chance to say anything else the door to the restaurant flew open. An older version of Antigone spoke in rapid fire Greek. He instinctively knew it was her mother. She was every bit as beautiful as her girl. He had no idea what the woman was saying but she was very animated.

“No Mama.” said Antigone “No mama. He is a client of Nestor's.” More rapid Greek “I didn’t bring him here, Mama. He followed me. Mr. Del Zotto, this is my mother, Mariana. This is her and my father’s restaurant.” He was pulled into a one arm hug and escorted to table. Her mother was gesturing at her clothes. “Mama English please.”

Mama Castellanos looked him over. “He is handsome, No?” asked her mother in English “Why you dressed like Mirabella? Go change before your papa sees.” Antigone looked at her mom then at Del Zotto. “I’ll take care of your gentleman.”

“That’s what I am afraid of, Mama.” replied Antigone.

“Shoo!” said Mariana “Go change, I will feed him.”

“I’ll be back in 10 minutes. If she mentions trading goats or walking around a table with me, run and hide.” This time it was Michael who laughed.

“I can handle your mama, mother’s love me.”

“Del Zotto,” replied her mother “Italian no?”

“Yes ma’am” he answered.

“You have allergies?” she asked

“No ma’am” he replied.

She ushered him to a table “Sit, I feed you and my Antigone.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You sit. You look sad. You tell mama while Antigone changes clothes.” She replied shoving him in a seat. Mama headed to the kitchen. Mike looked up in time to see Antigone climbing the stairs. That tiny dress climbing up with every step she took. He watched her until she disappeared.

“So, you know my Antigone long?” asked Mrs. Castellanos pouring coffee into two mugs. She placed cream and sugar on the table “Strong. Is Greek coffee.”

“No ma’am, I just met her.” he answered “She works at the law firm my friend recommended.”

Mama eyeballed him “Are you a criminal? If so, you stay away from my baby. In fact, you look like you break hearts. You just do business and leave my baby. No more pretty boys that don't do what they say.”

“I’m not a criminal,” asserted Michael “And I don’t think you have to worry about Antigone and me. She doesn’t even like me. Her uncle wants her to help with my case.”

Mama moved towards a glass pastry case. Michael watched her pull different pastries from the case. She filled a large tray with the cakes and breads. He watched her work on the counter space gathering honey, butter, and other things. She gathered plates and silverware. She moved through the space like a dancer. He was amazed at the grace that she exhibited waiting tables. Mama placed the plates on the table along with the pastries and all the accompaniments. He was pretty sure that he would gain just looking at the food.

“Here come Antigone. She will tell you what is what.” He watched Mama disappear into the kitchen. He turned in time to see Antigone descending the staircase. His breath caught. She might have been hot in the stripper lawyer getup but she was fucking gorgeous without it. Mike wasn’t sure if he should stand up and pull the chair out for her or not. His mama would say manners. He stood but he was frozen in place. She had ditched the suit. Antigone had grabbed her favorite jeans and a pulled on a threadbare Eagles shirt. She’d stepped into her favorite sandals. She had managed to tone down the makeup and set her hair free. Mira would tell her it looked wild. She didn’t bother fixing it she knew it would be up in a ponytail once she started working. Antigone noticed Del Zotto was standing. This wasn’t prom what was he doing.

Michael realized he was staring at her. He also realized he should stop but damned if he could. Why in the hell did he have to meet her and it have to be because of some stripper drama. Oh yeah according to Giroux he shouldn’t have stripper drama. So let’s recap he thought she’s fucking beautiful, I may or may not have knocked up a stripper, and I’ve been a complete douche since I met her. He groaned out loud.

“Do I still not meet your high standards for a private investigator, Mr. Del Zotto?” she asked smirking at him. She moved over to the bar and grabbed a notepad and pen from her stash. She motioned for him to sit as she came closer. Mike looked at her as she approached. She was tiny; she might be a full five feet if she was lucky. He didn’t sit instead he pulled the chair closest to him out and held it. Antigone looked at it curiously. Now he has manners. Antigone stood before him.

Michael felt her eyes on him. She was assessing him. He felt her eyes strip him, and not in a good way. “Antigone,” he began “I’m sorry. I have been an asshole. I haven’t treated you with respect. I am not this guy. But so much has been thrown at me in the last few days, that I am not sure where to turn. I'm sure it’s a laughable situation, but it’s not funny to me. If I screw up publicly again, it could be down to the minors or no hockey at all. I’m just getting my footing here. I don’t want to be the guy known for fucking strippers and porn stars. I want to be known for doing my damn job.” He was staring at her again. Her face was tipped up towards his. He was surrounded by her orange blossom scent. He wanted nothing more than her forgiveness in this moment. He wasn’t sure it would come.

Notes