“You fucking knew when I talked about my job that my firm was representing your ex-girlfriend. How could you put me in such a compromising position? Is all of this just a fucking joke to you?”

“I…yes, but what did you expect me to say? We were stuck here together. Look at how you’re acting now. Imagine, if we were stuck together for another week with you knowing who I was.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like you’ve got the best decision-making skills—”

“Wait. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don’t actually think I—”

“Ah! I don’t want to hear it,” I threw my hands over my ears like earmuffs, protecting myself from anything having to do with the open case. The only thing keeping me from looking like a complete freak was my lack of singing “la-la-la-la, I can’t hear you” over the words he so desperately wanted me to hear.

“I’m already too involved as it is. That’s if I even have a job after this, thanks to you.”

“You’re acting like I planned for this to happen.”

“Didn’t you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it’s just a fucking coincidence that you just so happened to be waiting for me when I left the bathroom.”

“Well, not exactly—”

“See! You planned it!”

“I noticed you earlier, and when I lost sight of you, I sought you out. You just so happened to be leaving the restroom at the same time I was standing outside. But I didn’t follow you to the club like some super-spy if that’s what you’re suggesting. That was the first time I even ventured to leave my house in weeks. I’m a fucking social pariah right now! Have you seen the things they’re saying about me? Two weeks ago, those same people were kissing my feet in honor of my father, and now they’re dragging me feet-first through the mud.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I know firsthand, and let me tell you, it’s not nearly as bad as it could be. They don’t have the pictures. They haven’t been tricked into fucking you.”

“It wasn’t a trick,” he responded, annoyed.

“You know, Joel, I don’t know a lot about you, but I know enough that you’ll talk me in circles before you see how wrong you are here. As soon as you’re safe to leave, I want you out of my house.”

“Well, it looks like I can do that now.”

His movements blurred as he stormed from the room, leaving to the bedroom where I imagined he was changing out of my brother’s stash of clothes and back into the suit that lay tossed across the top of my dresser.

Joel’s eyes clung to me the whole way to the door. His footsteps halted just inside of it. The air felt heavy, full of all of the unspoken words still lingering between us. Whatever he wanted to say, whatever words holding him hostage didn’t matter. Not after everything that had happened. I was staring down a problem like the edge of a cliff, with no option other than to jump and hope I survived the fall. “Sorry” wouldn’t be able to fix my problem.

He did that to me. Backed me into a corner, where I would either have to lie to my colleagues and hope they never found out about my one-night stand with the defendant in the Farrows case or tell them the truth and find myself looking for a new job.

At least I could say I put in the effort to keep my distance. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time. Lord knows I tried though. Every time he walked around my house without a shirt on, sometimes without pants on, when he was fresh from the shower and his hair was slick and damp reminding me that my panties probably held a similar look. He was too easy-going, too masculine. He smelled too good. I should have known that he was too good to be true. Men like that should come with a warning: “Could be hazardous to your life. At the very least your libido.” Because as I awoke the next morning in a bed full of cool sheets and the smell of him still clinging to my pillows, I realized how much of a failure I really was. I didn’t just let him between my legs; I let him into my heart. The room felt vacant without him. There was no sneaky finger looking to touch, no mischievous grin, no warm body to snuggle up to in the night. I was completely alone. It wasn’t the first time I’d been alone, but it was the first time I found it mattered to me.

Chapter Two

Like any other day, I went by Starbucks to pick up the usual. With how our conversation ended the day before, I was sure that Kerri wasn’t expecting me to bring her her morning java, but nothing says “I’m over it” like coffee, right? And I wanted her to know that, while I wasn’t over it, I had absolved her of any involvement leading to my mistake. Coffee was also the currency I used to pay for her silence. I didn’t even want Piper to know. The less people knew about our involvement the better, and seeing as how Kerri was the one with his business card, I was sure Piper wasn’t aware of who I left with that night.

The Law Offices of Henderson & Fitz were located a couple blocks northeast of my home in Summerlin. It was close enough to walk, but I always drove. Vegas didn’t really have mild days where you could just walk to work and still be as fresh as the first step through the front door. All of the elements were harsh. Summers were hot enough to fry an egg. Literally. I’d seen it. And winters were cold enough to freeze air on the worst days. Aside from the obvious, I liked Vegas. Sure, I didn’t gamble, but there were lakes nearby, and Red Rock Canyon was nice to hike on the days when I didn’t mind a little sweat.

It was a drastic change from growing up in Indiana where temperatures rarely peaked above 100 on the hottest days, and after six months, I was beginning to grow accustomed to the drastic weather and oftentimes-drastic people.

Pulling up to our offices, I sat in my car taking inventory of the damage the sandstorm had done. Aside from a smashed window on the first floor and the parking lot looking like a Zen garden full of white and peach rocks, the complex didn’t befall too much damage that one day’s work couldn’t fix.

With both hands filled with our workday fuel, I entered the building juggling both cups. The lobby was large and sterile with marble floors and abstract art that had to have been picked out by a man. I imagined it was Fitz who decided to go with the oversized canvases showcasing inanimate objects. After all, he did have random metal tchotchkes cluttering his own office.

Just inside the double doors was a large, curved desk where Piper sat, propped up like one of those Victorian dolls. Her long, brown hair hung in soft waves framing her perfectly dimpled cheeks and large, brown eyes. Piper was probably the sweetest, most innocent-looking person in the entire building, hell maybe even in all of Vegas.

“Still alive, I see?” I asked just as I set both cups on the edge of her desk. Piper swiped a few loose strands behind her ear and replied in that soft whisper of hers.

“I was a little nervous. You know, now that it’s just me at the house, but I managed.” She smiled shyly, and I wondered if it was getting any easier for her to talk about her divorce. I thought her going out to the club with Kerri and me was her announcement to the world that she was turning over a new leaf and she was finally free, but maybe that was just the alcohol talking, and now that she was sobered up, reality had set back in. She wasn’t Kerri—who was naturally vivacious. A personality trait she shared with a certain someone I was trying to push from my thoughts.

“And how did your house hold up? My neighborhood was a mess, but my house just needs a bit of re-patching.”

“Same here. Thankfully, the front held up. There’re just a few spots in the back that I’ll have to have someone come fix.”

“Well that’s good. Let me know who you end up using.”

“Will do.”

“Hey, is Kerri in yet?”