Chapter 10

Trinity doesn't textme when she wakes up so that I can send her an Uber.

I give myself a couple of hours to indulge in the fantasy that it's because she's still at my house.

I have at least a few hours of work to catch up on and I'm already in the office. And by "work" I mean research about Savannah Lewis. I'd done thorough research before ever offering her a job working for Ian. I take my due diligence as his friend and emotional support lawyer very seriously.

Now that I know there's even a chance that Ian is romantically interested in her, I dig deeper. He might not even realize it yet, but I do.

Besides, the contract she signed when I hired her gave me permission to do a back ground search. The NDA I had her sign was so deep and broad, the background search was the least objectional part of her contact. So I dig even deeper.

Do I feel like a total dick for researching Trinity's sister while still hoping to fuck her tonight when I get home? Yes.

I don't do more research on Trinity herself, because that would be crossing a line, even for me.

When noon rolls around and I still haven't heard from Trinity, I bite the bullet and head home. If she's still at the condo, I can bring her to brunch. If she's not, then maybe it's for the best.

Neither Trinity nor her sister are my clients, so nothing I've done could get me disbarred, but starting a full blown relationship with Trinity feels like a moral quagmire I should avoid. Correction, it's one I should have been smart enough to avoid yesterday.

And, as I suspected, it's a moot point anyway.

When I return to the condo, she and every trace of her are gone. The only sign she was ever there is the neat stack of Trinity-scented clothes waiting for me on my bed.

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, given that she never gave me any indication she wanted more than a one-night stand … or that she even liked me for that matter. In fact, she was pretty clear about how she felt about me every time we met.

I was the one who hoped he could buy her affection with french fries and tornado-safe housing.

Fuck my life.