My name is Rosette Sawyer and I turned twenty-nine years old on Halloween 2021. I was a writer for a popular, online true crime magazine called Heinous Minds and a self-published author of eight books about notorious murderers and rapists and their famous trials and attorneys. Usually, when people would see me at home, my long, red hair was up in a messy bun, I had a pencil or pen behind my right ear, my baby-blue eyes peered through a pair of thin-framed reading glasses or the glasses would be hooked onto my shirt for easy access, and I always wore oversized shirts over a pair of leggings.
Since I was in college, I've lived in an apartment complex in Manhattan, in the apartment next to an attorney named Rafael Barba. From day one, he caught my attention with his flashy and fashionable suits, debonair smile, green, heart-melting eyes, and his amazing mind. Despite living next to each other for years, Rafael and I didn't introduce ourselves to each other until December 2021. I know that it sounds absolutely creepy but I've had admired him from afar like some obsessive fan-girl for all of those years.
For six years, he was the Assistant District Attorney for the Sex Crimes Bureau. During that time, I followed and wrote about the cases that he prosecuted on my personal blog. My first self-published book in college was even about the trial of psychopathic William Lewis. Lewis had abducted and tortured the Special Victims Unit detective and Rafael's close colleague, Olivia Benson. Lewis did such horrible things to her and others. It was difficult to write about but yet, the trial was intriguing. Rafael was fierce in court during that trial. He was always laser-focused and extremely passionate about getting justice for victims but because it was Olivia, there was something different about him. He gave everything that he had to make sure that Lewis wouldn't hurt her or anyone else again.
In 2018, Rafael resigned after a traumatizing case, involving a brain-dead infant. He had turned off the infant's life support so the baby wouldn't suffer anymore and he almost went to jail for it. People thought that he was trying to play God but I thought that it was so moving how compassionate he was towards that helpless baby. He said that his actions was justifiable since the child was essentially dead already and he was ultimately acquitted of murder and exonerated but he decided to leave. Even though he didn't want to leave his colleagues, especially Olivia, it would've been probably too difficult to stay working there after his own trial.
He left New York for a while. I thought that he wasn't coming back and I just hoped that he'd still practice law but he did eventually come back, moving back into the same place next to me. He was now working as a defense attorney. He was as handsome as ever. His dark hair was now salt and pepper and he had a beard. Like back when he was an A.D.A, I would see him each morning while I got my mail. I would still see him walking out of the building and getting into a taxi or an Uber with a cup of coffee in his hand, his cell phone to his ear, and a determined demeanor.
If he would see me, he would give me a friendly wave and even though he had to wear a Covid mask, he would still smile at me with his exquisite eyes as he walked by. Most of time though, he seemed too preoccupied to notice his surroundings. I didn't think anything of it though. I knew that he was a busy man.
His choice of client in December 2021 horrified a lot of people. Even I was questioning why he was defending Richard Wheatley, an obvious sociopath and a son of a mob boss. It was alleged that he was an intelligent but corrupt and murderous businessman, who wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. Wheatley was accused with Kathy Stabler's murder. Kathy was the wife of Elliot Stabler, a former detective of the Special Victims Unit and the former partner of Olivia Benson.
I later found out that Rafael thought that Wheatley was complete scum and was guilty but he thought that there were some major issues with the murder investigation and it was his job to question those issues on the behalf of his client. He was expecting that A.D.A. Dominick Carisi would come up with an air-tight case against Wheatley anyway. Rafael also decided to defend this piece of garbage because he knew if another attorney defended Wheatley, they'd tear the NYPD and Olivia into shreds in court. Even though he knew that she was a very strong woman, he was secretly protective of her. He considered her as his best friend and family. He would refuse to say it out loud but I knew that he was also in love with her once upon a time. Rafael had the best intentions but now Captain Benson didn't see it that way.
Olivia and Elliot were partners for twelve years, before she met Rafael. He knew that Stabler was important to her. He expected her to support Stabler. He was really hoping that she wouldn't automatically make him the traitor for defending Wheatley but she refused to hear his side. She actually asked him not to take the case before the trial started, saying, "Richard Wheatley is guilty!"
He said with a small grin, "Is he? It depends on the jury." He was trying to joke with her to lighten up the mood between them but it wound up sounding smug.
She then accusingly asked him: "Is this actually about Wheatley or about Stabler?"
"I don't know Stabler." He was surprised that she was suggesting that he had some kind of a problem with her former partner.
"He's guilty," she said again.
When Rafael said, "Let the state prove it then," she looked as though he just stomped on her heart repeatedly.
"Rafa," she said quietly, giving him one last pleading look before he walked out of her office.
Carisi fought hard in court but Rafael easily took the upper-hand. He felt the angry looks from Olivia and Elliot in the gallery when the prosecution's case started to go downhill and he took advantage of it but he had a job to do. With each cross-examination, he magnified the issues in the case and planted seeds of doubt in the jury's minds. Everyone in that courtroom could see that Wheatley's son changed his testimony for a reason. He have a feeling that Wheatley was behind it but of course, Carisi nor he could prove it. Wheatley's ex-wife's testimony was a mess too. Despite Wheatley freaking out in court, the jury ended up being deadlocked. Rafael quickly moved for a mistrial and the judge declared one. Wheatley was acquitted by default because the D.A. decided not to have a re-trial. One might've thought that Rafael would've been somewhat satisfied but he was feeling quite the opposite.
It was on one of the rare evenings that I tried to go out on a date. The guy that I met at the café was nice and all but he was psychologist and it felt like he was trying to psychoanalyze me the whole date because I wrote about violent crimes for a living. I finally had one of friends text me so I could lie and say that I had to leave because of a family emergency. I just walked into the building and I pulled down my Covid mask to my chin. I had the key to my door in my hand and I was about to walk into my place, when I heard a loud crash and a yell in Rafael's place. Without thinking, I quickly ran over and knocked on his door.
What I didn't know was a few minutes before I came home, he had just walked in his place with a heavy mind. He had poured himself a glass of Scotch. He paced in his kitchen, sipping at his Scotch and still in his suit.
He didn't like that he helped a possible psycho go free but the state's case was flawed. He then kept thinking of Olivia and her coldness towards him. He tried to ignore the sadness within him and acted like it didn't bother him. He laid back on his couch, tossing his jacket aside, kicking off his shoes, and loosening up his tie. Still drinking, memories of Olivia and him flashed in his head:
Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins, two dedicated detectives walked in the courtroom with Captain Harris. He walked over to them and playfully said: "Take your daughters to work day?"
Liv rolled her eyes but smiled back.
Then, as he worked side by side with SVU, Liv with her undying compassion started to weasel her way into his by-the-book, black and white world, and the black and white became different shades of gray.
Before he knew it, there were blues...as they gave a voice to the innocent and fought tooth and nail to lock up the sadistic...
...And greens...after they gave people justice and hope...
...And yellows...when Liv and him would playfully banter with each other or heatedly debate over evidence...when Liv would give him a grateful nod in the courtroom...
...And reds...during the tense, heart wrenching, almost unbearable, yet satisfying moments when the truth of an injustice was finally revealed.
Over the years, he had been outraged, heartbroken, joyous, and empathetic. Liv had opened his heart and he'll be forever thankful for it.
Then, he remembered what she said with such resentment at the restaurant during jury deliberation:
“Just so we’re clear: I feel betrayed by you...And I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it."
Those words echoed in his mind. Even though he didn't do anything wrong, he thought that he lost the respect and friendship from one of the most beloved people in his life and he didn't know how to fix it. Feeling hurt and frustrated, he stood up and threw his glass of Scotch at a picture of Olivia and him that was on the wall, shattering the glass and the frame into pieces. He then let out a dispirited yell.
"Mr. Barba," I called out, frantically knocking at his door, "It's Rosette, your neighbor! Are you okay?!"
"Uh...yes," he replied behind the closed door, "I'm fine, thank you! I just dropped a glass."
"Are you sure? Do you need some---?"
"No," he said sharply, "I told you, I'm fine, so please go away!"
His words stung me a bit but I went back to my place. I didn't really think about it until four nights later.
It was Tuesday and I was doing some Christmas shopping. I just walked into my building and since no one was around, I took off my mask to take a normal breath. I then took off my heavy, purple winter coat practically one-handed so I could move more freely. I usually had my key ready in hand but I had three bags and my purse in my hands. I thought that the key was on top inside of my purse but I couldn't find it. Setting down the three bags, I began to dig through my purse, searching for the key to no avail. I even checked my coat pockets but still no luck.
Tossing my coat on the floor, I exclaimed exasperatedly: "You gotta be kidding me!"
I was about to dump everything out of my purse onto the floor, when Rafael opened his door and asked: "Is everything alright?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him. "Stop acting so skittish around him," I told myself, "You're twenty-nine, not sixteen!"
Leaning against his doorway, Rafael watched me with concern. His face was freshly shaven. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, a perfectly fitting, dark-green sweatshirt, and a fancy pair of black, men's slippers.
"I swear that he could look sexy in anything," I mused in spite of myself.
"I'm sorry that I startled you," he said, "Do you need any help?"
"It's okay," I replied, laughing at myself, "No, I just lost my key. It's probably at the bottom of my purse. I'll just dump out my purse and..."
"Why don't you come into my place so you don't have to dump your things on the dirty floor to find it?"
"Oh, thank you," I smiled, praying that I wasn't blushing, "that's very nice of you, Mr. Barba, but I don't want to impose."
"I insist," he replied, smiling back warmly, "It's the at least I can do for my rudeness the other night."
I didn't know at the time but he had read all of my work during the Covid shutdown. Ever since then, he was secretly enthralled with me. Not only was he attracted to my beauty, he was also attracted to my mind. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to say to a woman so he kept his distance. When he yelled at me the other night, he felt so ashamed. I was only being neighborly. He already felt like he let down Olivia and he wasn't going to disappoint another woman. He was going to introduce himself to me in a proper, much kinder way.
"Everybody is allowed to have a bad day," I remarked, "but if you sure that you don't mind me coming in."
"Positive."
I usually wouldn't go into a stranger's apartment, even if it was a very attractive neighbor. A woman needs to careful, especially if she's alone, but even though it sounds ridiculous, I felt like I already knew him from writing about him and his cases so much.
Putting my mask on and grabbing my coat, I reached for my three bags.
He stepped out and held out a hand, asking: "Can I carry your bags for you?"
"Sure, thank you."
He carried the bags in for me, as I followed him inside. I closed his door behind us. He was pretty neat for a bachelor. In his spacious apartment, everything had a place. The dishes were done and put away, his very few knickknacks and pictures seemed to be always dusted, and his laundry was cleaned and was put back in his closet. The only messy area was the living room table that had law books, pieces of yellow, legal pad paper, and numerous files scattered all over it.
"You can take off your mask," he told me, "if you're vaccinated."
"Thanks Mr. Barba." I was relieved that I wouldn't have to carry a conversation with a mask on the whole time.
"You can call me Rafael," he smiled, as he put my three bags on a kitchen chair, "we are neighbors after all."
"Okay Rafael," I said, thinking that it sounded strange but yet, right for his first name to be coming out of my mouth, "My name is Rosette Sawyer."
"Sawyer," he stated casually, "the true crime writer, right?"
"Yep, you've heard of me?"
"I've read some of your work," he replied simply.
My heart hopping in my chest, I was honored that he read my work.
"Why don't you dump your purse on my kitchen counter? It's the cleanest."
"Alright." I went over to his counter and poured my purse out. There was my purple wallet, my reading glasses, my red lipstick, my compact case, my pocket-sized black notebook, a dozen of receipts, ten different ink pens, my cell phone, and my mauve-colored, pocket-sized stun gun. The key was nowhere in sight.
Jumping back a little, his mouth was slightly agape and his eyebrows were raised. It was obvious that he was taken aback by the sight of my stun gun.
"Oh, that's just for protection," I assured him, giggling.
"I understand," he said, clearing his throat, "that makes sense. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. So what does the keychain to your key look like? Maybe I can help you find it."
"I don't have a keychain," I said sheepishly.
"Seriously?"
"Well," I blushed, "I never thought that I needed one. I always know where my key is...usually."
"Hey," he chuckled, "I'm not judging. I constantly lose my phone for hours until someone calls me."
We both laughed.
"Speaking of phones," I said randomly, "I can call my friend Josh and he could bring the copy of my key. Will you please excuse me?"
"Of course."
Grabbing my phone, I walked into his living room and called my friend Josh. I didn't notice but Rafael was watching me from the kitchen. He wasn't eavesdropping but staring at me with such curiosity and fascination. To him, I was different than any other woman. I didn't take myself too seriously. He thought that I was very self-reliant but also shy and perfectly flawed. I was quirky, extremely intelligent, and naturally gorgeous in his eyes.
"Josh can bring the key," I announced, coming back into the kitchen, "but he's at work and his break isn't for an hour."
"I wonder if this friend is actually a boyfriend," Rafael thought to himself.
I gathered my things back into my purse and said: "I'll just wait in the hallway. I don't want to pester you for an hour."
"Don't be silly," he exclaimed, "Stay!"
"Are you sure? I'll be fine in the hallway."
"Definitely," he replied, walking to his coffee maker, "Do you want some coffee?"
"Coffee would be great." Moving the three bags out of my way, I sat at the kitchen table.
"How do you like your coffee?"
"Just cream and sugar please."
"So," he said nonchalantly, carefully handing me a hot mug of coffee, "if you mind me asking...how long have you and Josh been dating?"
He then sat across from me with his own cup of coffee.
"Oh," I laughed, almost choking on my coffee, "no...no, he's one of my best friends. He's like a protective big brother. Josh is openly gay."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry or assume," Rafael replied, "I just thought that any man that would go out in this cold must be head-over-heels. I know that I would be falling over myself if I was dating a beautiful woman like you."
Then, I caught him grinning behind his cup. "Wait a minute," I thought excitedly, "Is Rafael Barba actually flirting with me right now?"
Even though I felt my face turning beat red, I tried to play it cool. "That's alright," I said, sipping at my coffee, "You're sweet. Any woman would be lucky to be with a gentleman such as you."
He chuckled.
I heard what I said and I instantly regretted it. He seemed to like it but I was mortified. I was never good at subtle flirting. I didn't know why I suddenly thought that I could that night. I just wound up sounding like a Jane Austen character reject. Being embarrassed, I quickly changed the subject and said: "So have you really read my work?"
"Most." He didn't tell me that he had read everything of mine until later on.
I asked: "Which is your favorite?" The whole conversation wasn't going to be all about me but I was legitimately curious.
"Your articles are riveting," he replied, "You don't focus solely on the perpetrators or the goriness of their crimes like some true crime writers do. You treat the victims with respect and compassion, and you describe the detectives and attorneys like they are the heroes of the stories."
"Well, they are."
With one arched eyebrow, he asked: "Even the defense attorneys?"
"In their own way," I told him, "A different way but yes. Have you heard the Clarence Darrow quote?"
Rafael looked at me with awe and said: "Yes but I don't remember it verbatim."
I continued: "He said to be an effective criminal defense counsel, an attorney must be prepared to be demanding, outrageous, irreverent, blasphemous, a rogue, a renegade, and a hated, isolated, and lonely person; Few love a spokesman for the despised and the damned."
Smiling, I added: "When I hear that quote, I think that anyone could go through that just to defend a possible guilty person should seen as heroic. Plus, defense attorneys are great motivators for the prosecutors."
"I'm guessing that you never heard the Charles Dickens quote, if there were no bad people, there would be no good lawyers," he said.
"I have," I replied, "but I still think that the defense attorneys have a heroic role too."
"You should've been an attorney yourself," he smiled.
"Nah, I just like to write and read about justice."
He was already enthralled but as we were talking, he was slowly becoming absolutely enamored with me.
"Oh," he said, "Liv and I also liked your book about the William Lewis trial. She appreciated how you didn't glorify the prick like most of the media did."
"Olivia Benson seems like an amazing and courageous woman," I observed.
"Yes she is," he replied softly.
I then saw a picture of Olivia and him hanging on the refrigerator. I saw other happy photos of them in the living room but in the picture on the refrigerator, they looked especially happy. Smiling big, it looked like they were both glowing. I didn't know it but this picture was in the frame that he broke the other night.
"And she's pretty," I said, pointing at the picture.
He smiled, stood up, and walked to the picture. He pulled it down and put it on the table to show me.
"This was taken at Forlini’s after we won an exceptionally tough rape case. We rarely got celebratory drinks after an intense trial but we were so relieved that day. Liv was on cloud nine."
As he was talking and looking at the picture, I saw his complete admiration for Olivia. He was looking at her with what Josh often called heart eyes, which made me wonder if they were once more than just friends.
"You two are so close," I remarked.
"Yes, we are...I mean we were." Then, his eyes darkened with grief and regret for a second.
I figured that they had a falling out because of the Wheatley trial. Olivia was on the prosecution's side after all. I wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay in time but I didn't. I didn't even ask him about it. I just changed the subject again. He didn't tell me the whole story until much later.
His eyes brightened up once more. It felt like we could talk forever about anything. We laughed, lightheartedly debated, and just listened to each other. Josh had to call me to come outside and get my key.
Apparently, I didn't need the copy of my key. While Josh was walking to my place, he found my original key on the street. Once I thanked Josh and got my key, Rafael followed me to my door, carrying my bags for me.
"I enjoyed talking to you," he smiled, "We should've done it sooner."
"Yeah, me too," I giggled, as I unlocked my door, "I've always wanted to talk to you but you always seemed so busy. I'm glad that I lost my key."
He chuckled and said: "Well, anytime that you want to talk, you know where I live."
I never asked out a guy before because I followed that weird social norm of waiting for the man to ask first but that night, as we stood in my doorway, I suddenly had the courage to take a risk.
"Actually," I said, my heart pounding, "I don't know if this is too much of a short notice but would you like to meet me at Anna's Coffee on Friday night? We can talk and get to know each other more."
"I would love to," he replied, "I never heard of the place."
"Oh, it's a café," I explained, "it opened in November. My friend Petra owns and manages it. Josh is one of the waiters and one of the baristas. It's a cozy place to talk and it's open twenty-four-seven."
"Sounds great. It's a date then. Seven o'clock?"
"It's a date," I repeated, trying not to grin so big, "at seven."
Before he left, he put my bags in my living room for me and we traded numbers so I could text him the address.
"Well, I'll see you in the morning in the hallway," he joked, "try not to lose your key before then. Goodnight."
"I'll try," I laughed, "Night." I then shut my door and just stood in front of it for a second, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl.
"What just happened?"
To be continued...
This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the TV series, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, which is trademarked by ©Dick Wolf.
©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2022
Smooches and think Tink!
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