Discretion by Allison Leotta

“In every bunch, one stands out. You’re the one.” Anna hid the flowers under her desk so no one would ask who sent them. When she brought them homethat night, she thanked Jack, then asked him not to send her flowers at the office. Now he made bouquets from the flowers in his garden and gave them to her at his house.
    “I love the flowers you give me here,” she said. “And I’m not ready to go public.”
    “I don’t mean take out an ad in the Post . Just tell a few close friends. Let it be known that we’re dating. Stop the ridiculous cloak-and-dagger stuff. I’ve been saying this for a while now.”
    Anna shook her head. Jack didn’t understand. If a police officer saw him kissing her in a stairwell, that would just add to his status. She, on the other hand, would permanently shift from being a prosecutor to a pinup. It was hard enough, as a young woman, to be taken seriously. Anna was still stinging from the scandal last year. She couldn’t be ground zero of another gossip explosion.
    “I can’t, Jack. I need to prove myself as a prosecutor.”
    “Does that mean you can’t date? You’re a lawyer, not a nun.”
    “If people knew we were dating, they’d see me as the little hussy sleeping with the boss.”
    “No, Anna. This is the real thing, not some cheap affair. We shouldn’t sneak around like it’s something to be ashamed of. People will be happy for us.”
    “They won’t. You’ll be a stud. I’ll be ‘sleeping her way to the top.’ I’ll be completely trivialized.”
    “I think it’s a mistake.” Jack sighed. “But I know how important it is to you. We’ll keep it under wraps. Will you work the case with me?”
    The fact was, Anna really wanted the case. The stakes were high. If the case went well, it could make her career; but if it went badly, it would be a public humiliation. But there was a larger reason she wanted the case. She couldn’t get the image of Caroline McBride out of her head. She felt a visceral need to find out who had killed the young woman and bring that person to justice. Despite all her reservations, she couldn’t turn it down.
    She smiled at him. “I’m in.”
    “Great.” The smile he returned was steady and warm. “We make a good team.”
    Anna was relieved that the negotiation was over. Debates were an inescapable part of a two-lawyer relationship. Often, she and Jack enjoyed them. But she didn’t want to debate whether to keep their relationship secret. It was too important; she couldn’t appreciate the verbal tug-of-war. And tonight, more than usual, she needed the comfort of his body, not the challenge of his intellect. She took his hand and led him up the stairs.
    They passed Olivia’s room, dark and quiet. Her door was cracked, and Anna could see the little girl was asleep, her thumb resting on the pillow near her open mouth. An orange tabby named Raffles was curled at Olivia’s feet. The cat was Anna’s—she’d adopted the stray a couple of years ago. Now that Anna was spending so much time at Jack’s house, he’d invited the cat to move in. Olivia had been pleased about this development, if nothing else. Raffles raised his head and meowed to Anna, then let his orange eyes slide shut again.
    Anna’s gaze lingered, as it always did, on a framed picture hanging in the hallway by Olivia’s room. A studio portrait of Jack and his late wife, Nina Flores, holding the infant Olivia between them. They were a beautiful family. Jack’s wife had been a police officer, killed in the line of duty four years ago. He rarely spoke about it. But Nina’s presence was everywhere in the house.
    Unlike Jack’s spartan office, his bedroom was decorated with cheer and warmth. The walls were cherry red, the bed was covered in a colorful quilt, and the golden oak floors were softened with a sisal rug. Anna guessed his wife had been responsible for the decor. In this room, though, there were no pictures of her.
    Anna locked the door and turned to Jack with a