Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
He’s speaking ruefully, staring off into space as though reliving every decision that’s led here.
“I didn’t mean to judge,” I say.
“I asked,” he replies. “I’m glad you told me the truth.”
“Why the change if it’s been so long since pro bono work? Why this case?”
He stares meaningfully at me. His smolder contains so much. It’s like there are whole essays and explanations he wants to offer me. Then he picks up his glass and takes a sip.
“I searched online on the message board I used back in the day. This seemed like a worthy case. I hate bastards who hurt kids.”
“But why did you suddenly get the urge to do pro bono work?”
“Why not?” He shrugs, looking down at the table. I’m almost sure he’s hiding something. “Sometimes, I guess, a man just gets the urge to do the right thing.”
“Yeah, I get that. When I talked to that mom, she was clearly on something. Now that she’s denied letting her kid go to the bar, there’s not much we can do except wait for more complaints. I probably won’t even be allowed back there until then.”
“But you want to help,” he says.
“Of course.”
“Then we should keep working together. Or, at least, I can keep you in the loop.”
“I can help,” I say. “Like you said. I don’t want just to be kept in the loop. Anything I can do, I’ll do.”
“I’m still figuring out what anybody can do,” he replies. “These bastards are being clever about hiding the kids when the cops come. Either that or the cops are in on it, but let’s assume they’re not. That means these bastards have trained the kids and have scared them into keeping quiet. This means they’ll probably go quietly when the mob wants to act on them, whatever that means.”
“It can’t end well,” I mutter, an icy shiver moving through me. “Those poor kids. Why can’t people just leave kids alone? That’s all I’ve ever wanted. If you have to be evil, sadistic, fine, but not with kids.”
“I know.” He hesitates, then stands up. “Excuse me for a moment.”
As he walks across the restaurant, I can’t resist the urge to watch him or notice the way other women turn to look at him. It’s like they can’t help it, as if there’s some force tugging their gazes in his direction. Maybe it’s how he has his shirt rolled up, showing thick, muscled forearms, demonstrating that despite his white-collar work, he’s more than capable with his hands.
Or maybe I’m projecting my fantasies on the whole restaurant.
CHAPTER NINE
LANDON
In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, hoping to jolt some sanity back into my system. When Lily talked passionately about protecting kids, all I wanted to do was lean over, grab her, and kiss her. The urge is still there now. I splash more water on my face.
Now or never … Months, not years …
She looked so damn disappointed when I told her I’m a divorce lawyer. I never thought one look from a woman could have me rethinking all my life’s choices, but Lily did it.
Finally, I leave the bathroom, part of me hoping in some twisted way that she’s run out on me. Maybe she’s sensed this uncharacteristic attraction in me. Perhaps she can feel how badly I want her on a physical level and how interested I am in every other way, too.
“So, what else about The Bear?” she murmurs, offering me a tight smile when I sit down.
“So far, the mob connection is all I have,” I reply. “It hasn’t brought me any closer to being able to stop this crap. If anything, it’s more like a warning. I should stop.”
“Are you going to?” she asks. “It would be the logical thing to do, right?”
It’s the word I used with her to describe the path my life has taken. That was the truth. Dad’s always been logical, and I followed him without thinking. Also, the extra money from my business has gone to charity. Logic, logic, logic …
“Fuck no,” I say, causing her to smile brightly. It feels like a gift. “Maybe they’ve got the law in their pocket. Maybe it’s dangerous, but I’ve spent too many years sleepwalking through life. Not anymore.”
“A-freaking-men!” she beams, picking up her glass and raising it on a toast.
I raise mine, too.
Soon, it’s time to leave. I’ve given her all the information about The Bear that I can. We walk together across the lot toward my car. Seeing it through her eyes, the sleek vehicle with tinted windows and custom silver rims seems gaudy, almost offensive. She’s struggling to help families, and here I am, decked out like a pimp.
She says nothing when I hold the door open for her. I can feel the heat of her body. It’s like some part of her is calling to me, tempting me. That sounds like voodoo crap—some part of her. However, I feel it all the same. Maybe it’s how suddenly real and meaningful life seems.