Chapter 11

11

Thursday

U nsurprisingly, Sasha had slept poorly and felt simultaneously sluggish and wired when she arrived at work, escorted by Connelly, who refused to let her walk or drive alone. As irritated as she ordinarily would have been by this protective alpha behavior, she found herself grateful for it this morning.

“You really don’t need to walk me up,” she assured him as they stopped on the sidewalk outside her office building.

He checked the time, and she wondered briefly where he was going next. “Are you sure?”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Positive. And you don’t have to bring me home. I’ll get a ride with Naya or Ellie.”

He frowned. “Will you try to leave before it gets dark?”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. I have a hearing to prepare for.”

He captured her hands in his and pressed them flat against his chest. She felt his heart beating under her palms.

“I understand, but try.”

“I will.”

They kissed again, and she walked inside. As the door swung shut behind her, a balding, freckled man ran up the stairs behind her. She caught it and held it for the man, belated recognizing him as Gray Simmons.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

He was nearly an hour early for their meeting. Instead of entering the stairwell and walking up to her office, she detoured and followed him into Jake’s. She got into line behind him, pulled out her phone, and bent her head over the screen, pretending to scroll.

When he made his way to the counter, Jake greeted him jovially and asked what he wanted. Simmons ordered a flat white and a scone. After he paid and stuffed his change into the tip jar, he stepped to the side to wait for his order and jerked his chin toward the espresso machine behind the counter. “I was here earlier this week. Best flat white I’ve had outside of Australia.”

“Thanks, man.” Jake beamed.

Sasha grudgingly considered that Simmons might actually just be a coffee aficionado.

Jake turned toward her. “Did you hear that?”

“I did. High praise.”

“It sure is. What’ll it be for you? You know Ellie already placed a catering order for your meeting, right?”

She didn’t, but she nodded. “Just a black coffee, Jake.”

He gave her a disappointed look. Maybe it was her imagination, but his gaze seemed to linger on her black-and-blue cheek. “I thought you liked the ristretto macchiato.”

“I loved it,” she assured him. “I’m just in the mood for a plain old coffee this morning.”

He harrumphed but held out his hand for her travel mug. She passed it over the counter. He filled it then handed it back.

“Thanks.”

He nodded.

She felt Gray’s eyes on her and turned to smile at him. “Free coffee’s a perk of being a tenant. Sasha McCandless.” She stuck out her hand.

Jake must have sensed something was about to go down because he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Uh, Gray Simmons.” He gave her hand a reluctant pump.

“I know.”

He shifted his weight and threw a desperate look toward the kitchen. “Just getting a coffee before our meeting.”

“Late night last night?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Were you up late? You know, preparing for the hearing? Or maybe fielding a call to let you know the attack on me didn’t go as planned?”

She watched his face. He screwed up his forehead in confusion and shook his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone jumped me in an alley last night. Tell me it wasn’t your client.”

He held her gaze. “It was not my client. At best those guys cosplay at being tough. John Boone told me he couldn’t walk for three days after that Krav Maga weekend. He pulled almost every muscle in his body.”

Despite her best efforts, a tiny smile broke through to curve her mouth upward. After a moment, she nodded. “I believe you.”

She raised her mug toward Simmons as Jake came out of the kitchen. “Enjoy your coffee and scone. I’ll see you upstairs.”

When she got to the office, she stopped to talk to the workers installing cameras in the hallways before heading to Ellie’s small office tucked in beside Naya’s.

“Knock knock.”

Ellie looked up, bleary-eyed. “Who’s there?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter who?”

“Doesn’t matter what Simmons says, I just figured out how to win this case.”

Ellie’s eyes widened as Sasha stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her.

When Ellie pulled her Volvo sedan up to the curb in front of Sasha’s house, Sasha spotted Connelly peeking through the living room curtains like somebody’s grandma. She gave her head a small shake before turning to the junior attorney.

“Thanks for the lift.”

“Of course, any time.”

“Are you nervous about the hearing?”

“A little,” Ellie admitted.

“Go home. Eat some carbs and watch a documentary or read a dense non-fiction book.”

“What?”

“You know how we’ve spent the past two days listening to music to get us amped up?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Now it’s time to quiet your mind and gather your reserves.”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to spring another rule on me?”

“Nope. This one’s not a rule, just a hard-learned lesson. You need to bore yourself tonight so you’re fresh tomorrow.”

Ellie gave her a dubious look.

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“No,” she admitted with clear reluctance.

“Then do it. Pasta and a thick biography. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She closed the door and waved a goodbye before hurrying inside.

Connelly greeted her at the door. “You made it home before dark.”

“Told you I’d try.”

He wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you. What were you yapping at Eleanor about? No, let me guess, you were sharing your bore yourself to death the night before a court appearance advice.”

“You know me too well,” she laughed.

“I know you just the right amount,” he countered. “So, what’s it going to be tonight—penne in vodka sauce or Riley’s mac and cheese?”

“That advice is for junior attorneys. I have a better way to burn off nervous energy.” She caught his hand and pulled him toward the stairs.

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“The kids are sleeping over at my brother’s place again, right?”

“Right.”

She dropped his hand, loosened her hair from the knot at the back of her neck, and unzipped her sheath dress. It puddled around her feet, and she stepped out of it and ran up the stairs, pausing to smile over her shoulder at him when she reached the landing. He was, as the saying goes, hot on her heels.