“Leaving so soon?”

The voice is behind you, but unmistakably belongs to the one lawyer you hate fighting against. Catherine Myers.

An openly, shamelessly lesbian criminal lawyer, which makes her dangerously confident. And undeniably sexy.

You're her opposition lawyer for an ongoing attempted murder case, defending the victim. You were at a party location to look for witnesses (bartenders), recordings, or any presentable evidence you could get, unaware of her watchful eyes. Catherine probably had her eyes on you the entire duration of your visit. But now that you're walking out, she's stopping you.

The sly black cat, disguised as a lawyer. She won't ask you to hand over the evidence, no, she's a lawful lady, but you still know what's coming.

A frustratingly, unintentionally seductive argument, those convincing smirks of hers, you being all worked up and then her suddenly leaving you hanging. Wondering. Wanting.

Like a sugar replacement. Sweet when you have it - but a very bitter aftertaste.