I didn't know why it bothered me, especially since I didn't expect to ever speak to or hear from him again. The truth I tried so desperately to drown out, but what kept resurfacing with a vengeance, was I didn't want there to be an end to us. I was having a hard time getting my heart on the same page as my head because continuing any kind of communication with him was a sure-fire way to ruin my life and all the hard work I'd put in to make it that far.

I calmed down enough to finish picking up the crumbs still dotting my couch while I convinced myself I was making the right decision. Even if I was completely over the fact that he lied to me, I wasn’t about to risk my job for him. I’d sacrificed a lot for this job—my life back home, nights out with friends. Who knows how many friends I could've made or relationships I could’ve had instead of spending my nights researching cases?

All of my routines felt foreign without Joel around. I couldn't explain it, but in the week I'd spent with him, I'd seen a side of myself I had all but forgotten. Wasn't that what my ex, Chase, complained about? Where I considered myself focused and driven, he considered me boring and methodical. Clearly, I had the capability to have fun and live life outside of my job; maybe I just hadn't found the one person who would make me want to do that. Of course, it just so happened to be that the one person who could bring out the fun, carefree side of me would be the one person who, above all else, I shouldn't have any contact with outside of my job. Hell, seeing as how I wasn't assigned to that specific case, I wasn't so sure that I should have had any contact with him at all.

Before I knew it, the show I had been staring at for the last hour was ending, and if anyone would have asked me what it was about, or who was in it for that matter, I wouldn't have been able to say. The bag that I'd been dipping my hand into without thought as to what I was putting in my mouth was now empty, and I sat all alone on my couch in work clothes that now looked as strained as I felt.

“Please call me,” he wrote, but I wondered if he was actually waiting for my call. Is his night just as shitty as mine while he waits by the phone for me to call him? What did he expect? To pick up where we’d left off? Thank him for the flowers and the help with my house? Who was I kidding? If things were different, I’d be inviting him over to show him how thankful I really was. I doubted he was waiting around for my call anyway—not Playboy Joel who probably had a phone full of numbers for women waiting and eager to fill in the new vacancy. Now that things were back to normal, we both could return to reality, where he wouldn’t spend a second night with me and I wouldn’t have the time of day for him. Except, the memories of him were too intense, his image circulating through my body like blood in my veins, only pulsing faster with each thought.

I needed sleep. Needed a break from that house. From work. From green eyes and conjured smiles. I needed a break from reality.

Even in my sleep I dreamed of him, of a night that felt endless, with warm air that lapped at my skin like rushing waves and writhing bodies that seemed to evoke a need in me that couldn’t be relieved. It was just like that night in the club—I seemed to be stuck in a liquor haze where everything was euphoric, but none of it was real. I watched the words unfurl from his lips, how they looked soft and plump, how the words made his mouth pinch together and purse. It looked like he was inadvertently blowing air kisses. I mentally grabbed hold of those kisses, pocketing them for later while taking note of what he actually said.

“Do you come here often?”

Real Joel wouldn’t use a line as tired as that, but I went along anyway.

“No. You?” I asked, already knowing the truth. Joel looked too comfortable there. How he sat at the bar like a king on his thrown, while everyone seemed to move around him like court jesters, there for his amusement.

“Only when I’m looking for a luscious piece of ass. I think it’s safe to say I found her.”

And like every other night, just when I was getting to the good part, my alarm went off.

Chapter Three

Kerri wandered over to my desk just before noon, an occurrence not uncommon. It was her expression that gave me pause. She looked pensive, with her perfectly drawn-on eyebrows furrowed, showcasing the lines creasing her forehead. A web of primed and concealed lines danced out from the edges of her eyes—revealing her true age.

“Did you already hear?”

“Hear what?” I asked, now pushing aside all the work that had accumulated over the last week. It wasn’t often Kerri came to my desk without that sparkle of exuberance that made her light up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center.

“Sarah just penciled in an appointment for Lara to come down to the office today. Henderson is going to council her over the next steps. Have you heard anything from Joel?”

“He sent me flowers and repaired my house.”

She looked hopeful, filled with a glee that I just couldn’t muster. The look vanished from her face when I continued, “Oh, and he gave me his card.”

“What do you mean, he gave you his card? Like his business card? Ew.”

“I know. He told me to call him, but what’s there to say?”

“Are you still going to help Henderson with the case?”

“Yeah. I need this. This could be the one that seals the deal. Will Sarah be taking notes in the meeting?”

“She or Darcy. Why? Do you want me to have them send over a copy?”

“If you don’t mind,” I said, batting my eyelashes and widening my smile.

“Quit your flirting. It’s wasted on me…unless you’ve got something in your pants I don’t know about.”

“Ew. Gross, Kerri. Get out of here.” I shooed her away from my desk, and she gave me a wink over her shoulder as she sauntered away. On the outside I may have been all smiles and giggles, but on the inside I was cringing. This would be the first time I would find myself possibly face to face with Joel’s ex, Lara, and this wouldn’t be a typical run-in of exes. Partly because she had no idea who I was, but more so because if Joel didn’t agree to paying damages out of court, we would be helping her nail him to the wall. And during the six months I’d been at the firm, we’d rarely lost a case.

This wouldn’t be the first time I would see Lara without the bruises marring her face. I couldn’t stop myself from looking her up after the blow-up with Joel and my phone call with Kerri. From what I knew about her, her life seemed to have turned around the moment she started dating Joel a year ago. The earlier images of her spanned from cut-off shorts and spaghetti-strapped shirts to Gucci dresses and Louboutin shoes. I watched Lara transform from trailer-park peasant to couture queen as I clicked through photo after photo. With each click I wondered if the evolution of Lara was precipitated by Joel or if he was responsible for the change.

My desk was located on the second floor adjacent to the elevators, so anyone exiting the elevator would only be able to see me if they glanced back or if they were specifically looking for me.

Luckily, when Lara exited, she didn’t glance back, which gave me the opportunity to look at her without feeling awkward that I’d been staring at her petite 5'4" frame. Her hair was glossy black, like patent leather, cut just above the collar of her blouse in an inverted bob, without so much as a hair out of place. She was polished in every sense of the word. Her blouse and skirt were unwrinkled—a feat that seemed impossible if she’d driven anywhere in this Vegas heat. The seams of her stockings weren’t askew in any way, and her shoes looked like she popped them out of the box just before exiting the elevator. She was everything I imagined one of Joel’s girlfriends to look like. Manicured—in a way that I could never, nor would ever want to be.