Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
He finishes off a bite of his hotdog. “My team had a good morning,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t that surprise you mentioned waiting on me.”
“There has to be a surprise,” I say, facing him. “The prosecution can’t be this unprepared.”
“It’s an election year,” Reese says. “A trial makes a big splash, and we both know the public is going to convict my client, and the jury if they acquit, no matter what the evidence says. That’s a win at the voting booths.” He takes a bite of his hotdog and I open his water for him. “Unless,” he says, accepting it, “we come up with that confession we need.” He guzzles his water.
“Anything from the Walker crew?”
He finishes off his hotdog and tosses the wrapper in a trashcan. “The secretary put them off.”
“Interesting. She must know something and can’t decide what to say.”
“Agreed. And I don’t know if I should be worried or impatient, or both.”
“You need to stick with believing in your client,” I say. “If you falter, the jury will know.”
He sets the water on the ground and changes the subject. “Take me out of the equation. If you didn’t know me, would you be excited about what your publisher had to say?”
“Yes, but I can’t take you out of the equation. I don’t just know you, I’m sharing your bed, you gave me a key to your apartment, and I don’t know how to separate that.”
“Take the deal or use it for leverage to move to a new publishing house and get the agent you want.”
“They offered me five hundred thousand dollars. If I do this, I’m splitting the deal with you.”
He inches back and arches a brow. “Half a million. Not bad.” His hand comes down on my leg and he pulls me to him, and I scoot closer. “I don’t want your money, Cat. I just want you.” He cups my face and his mouth slants over mine, his tongue stroking against mine in a slow, drugging kiss. “I can’t wait to get you home tonight.” He brushes his lips over mine. “I’ll see you soon.” He stands up and leaves me with so many thoughts that I have to weed through them. I focus on one word.
Home.
He called his apartment home, and, of course, it is. He just used it in a way that felt inclusive, like his place is my place.
But it’s not.
Could it be?
Do I want it to be?
Maybe.
Which leads me to the only thought that matters right now. I’m not just falling harder and harder for this man. I’m falling in love. I’m vulnerable. I could get hurt in a way Mitch could never have hurt me. But I trust Reese. He did everything right today. Said everything right. And he meant it.
He’s not going to hurt me.
Not on purpose.
I stand up and stuff my water and nuts into my briefcase before heading back to the courthouse. Rounding the corner to the front of the food trucks, I stop dead in my tracks, to find Reese in a confrontation with Kelli Ward, the wife of his client, and, of course, a possible killer. “How do we know what we say to you won’t end up in one of her columns?” Kelli demands, that question clearly about me. “How?” she demands. And without giving him a chance to reply, adds, “This is malpractice.” She turns and walks away.
It’s not malpractice, I think, that’s just silly, but I don’t want to cause Reese trouble.
He turns toward me and motions me forward, away from the people in line at the truck who had to have heard Kelli’s outburst. “That wasn’t good.”
“She’s afraid of you. Which tells me she’s afraid of a whole lot more.”
“Is this going to be a problem for you?”
“I told Nelson about us this morning. I wasn’t giving Dan a chance to shake my team up with some sort of bomb that isn’t even a bomb.”
“And he said what?”
“It was a non-issue. But do me a favor, sweetheart. Call the Walker team. Tell them Kelli is rattled. She’s set up for a misstep and I want her to go down, even if that means I have to take a few risks in the courtroom and draw this trial out.”
“I’ll call now.”
He kisses me. “A longer trial means we’re going to need to pick up more of your things and bring them to my place.” And with that, he leaves again, and I don’t let myself think about the fact that he’s pretty much moving me in with him. Right now, it’s about this trial. I retrieve my phone from my purse and check the time. I still have a full half-hour, and it’s a five-minute walk back. Deciding this call is private, I round the food trucks again and sit down on the bench. I don’t actually have Royce’s number, so I call Lauren.