Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I stand, even though my knees are knocking together. “I’m doing my job.”
“Just so we understand each other.”
The door opens, and the same guard from before moves inside, pauses, and visibly finds his balls before securing the cuffs on Alexei, who watches me the entire time. He allows the guard to lead him to the door.
Once there, he looks over his shoulder. “I hope you stick with me in this. Also, you might want to conduct a background check on Miles Molasses from your firm. He was a co-conspirator to the judge and prosecutor.” His teeth flash. “How convenient that he just died in an accident. Right?”
TWO
Rosalie
Some bean counter from the accounting firm two floors above mine chews peanut brittle on the way up in the elevator, and the sound cuts through me like a sharpened blade. I cast him a couple of looks over my shoulder, but he munches contentedly away, his gaze on the different numbers lighting up above the door. What a jackass. I try to concentrate on the soft elevator music, but the melody is no match for his teeth.
The door opens and I leap out, barely keeping myself from running as I hustle onto the seventh floor of the Cage and Lion Law Firm. It’s rare I forget to keep my earphones with me just in case assholes chew or sniff near me. Most people have never heard of my condition of misophonia, and that sucks.
I nod to the receptionist and continue beyond her and several offices to my own little spot of prestige. I don’t understand why Cage and Lion has the top two floors, eleven and twelve, the seventh floor, and the second floor as their law firm. It makes much more sense to have all of the floors together, but maybe the rent is cheaper on the lower levels.
My small office has light, rose-colored walls and a wide window that looks out over Silicon Valley. The bookshelves are oak and my desk glass. It’s one I chose when I accepted the job, and I like it quite a bit. The decorations are subtle with crystal-framed pictures of my grandfather and me when I was a child, a picture of me and my two besties when we graduated from a stiff and isolated boarding school, and one of my seven renters in the Victorian home I inherited from an aunt I never met. The people in my life who matter.
There’s also a stunning and ornate silver mirror on the side wall, between bookshelves. I found the piece at a garage sale after I passed the bar exam, and sometimes when I look at myself in it, I feel strong. I’m sure it’s the way the light reflects in it, but I’ll take all the help I can get.
I cross around to sit in my white leather chair and then look up as a body fills the doorway. “Joseph.” I stand to my heels again. We very briefly dated, and I still regret those two weeks. Oh, he’s handsome and smart, but he was looking for either a quick fling or a society lady to make looking good on his arm her entire profession. I fit neither of those categories, and we parted amicably. Well, after he told me I was the perfect lawyer because of how cold I am. I didn’t so much like that, even if the words held truth. Most men bore me for a reason I have never nailed down. Including Joseph Cage.
“Sit down, Rosalie,” Joseph Cage says, his smile charming and his black hair with just a hint of gray at his temples smoothed back from his tan face. “How did it go at the prison?”
“It was interesting.” I sit and cross my legs, tempted to reach for the one remaining red apple from the bowl on the corner of my desk. “I’m not sure allowing Alexei Sokolov out into the world is doing anybody a bit of good.” Just saying his name catches my breath in my throat, and I mask the feeling with a cough.
Cage leans against my door frame dressed in black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a green tie. His office is, of course, on the top floor, but he does spend time with the associates and paralegals on my floor more than his partner, Jaqueline Lion, does. A couple of the other associates and I have joked that Cage and Lion probably changed their surnames before they created a law firm to obtain the cool sounding name. The running agreement is that their names were actually Smith and Patterson.
“When we lost Sokolov’s case, it was a blow to the entire firm,” Cage says. “We should have won that one.”
I straighten, my ears perking. “You think Alexei was innocent?”
“No.” Cage shakes his head, his blue eyes earnest. “I do not believe that man was innocent. Yet, there was enough reasonable doubt that we should have won the case.”