Chapter 6
lies you keep telling yourself
The memory of their stolen moment at the hotel clung to Jaime like a shadow, unwelcome and unshakable. Olivia Gray had already thrown her world into disarray with that unannounced visit to Jaime’s chambers last week—her first days as co-counsel on the Lanx trial.
Jaime had thought she’d locked away her feelings after the conference, but Olivia’s presence was a constant reminder of what shouldn’t have happened.
She prided herself on keeping her private and professional lives separate, but Olivia’s presence blurred those lines.
Seeing her at the defense table every day wasn’t helping, though Jaime had regained her courtroom poise quickly enough.
If anything, it only made the brief moments when her thoughts wandered to Olivia all the more infuriating.
A knock at the door pulled Jaime from her spiraling thoughts. She straightened, masking her irritation at the interruption.
“Judge Lachlan?” Judge Rivera leaned into the doorway, his tone thoughtful. “I won’t take up much of your time—I just wanted to say your analysis in Wells came up in this morning’s circuit meeting. Really insightful work.”
Jaime nodded. “Thank you, Rivera. I appreciate it.”
“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a smile before retreating.
Jaime felt a flicker of satisfaction at the acknowledgment, but it did little to quiet the unease lurking beneath. She returned to her work, but her focus faltered, her thoughts circling back to Olivia with maddening persistence.
By the end of Olivia’s second week on the Lanx trial, Jaime found herself standing in her chambers, staring at the door. At first, confusion froze her on the spot. Then disgust followed when she realized a small part of her hoped Olivia might reappear.
She wouldn’t, of course. Jaime had made sure of that. She needed to shove the thought out of her mind and move on. Once the Lanx trial ended, she’d finally be free of this ridiculous distraction.
For three weeks, Olivia’s presence had grated on her nerves, from the defense table to that one ill-advised appearance in Jaime’s chambers.
But as the trial marched toward its fifth and final week, Jaime felt an odd mix of relief and emptiness.
Seeing Olivia every day had been exhausting, but now that it was over, Jaime wasn’t sure what to make of the strange void it left behind.
Still, she had little time to dwell on it.
With the trial concluded, the upcoming Social Justice Gala loomed ahead.
Jaime had no interest in attending, but being nominated for her work meant she couldn’t skip it.
She sighed at the thought of enduring another evening of insipid small talk, wishing, not for the first time, that her solitary nature didn’t make such events so unbearable.
Most people brought a plus-one, but Jaime never bothered.
She had no interest in romance, and most of her friendships were things of the past. Her mind wandered briefly to Olivia, imagining her at Jaime’s side—a fleeting, foolish thought.
She banished it immediately. The idea of showing up with Olivia was somehow worse than hiring an escort, and Jaime wasn’t desperate enough for that.
Frustrated by her inability to stop thinking of Olivia, Jaime dressed up, settled in her car and drove off.
When she arrived at the gala, she was immediately inundated and swept away by people making almost unbearable small talk, though the live band playing in the background allowed her to drown out most voices to a mere murmur.
This definitely was one reason she hated attending such events.
A person could get lost in the spacious ballroom, where artistic arrangements of deep purple calla lilies cascaded down tables draped in shimmering silver linens.
The crystal chandeliers overhead cast a soft glow, highlighting the dramatic elegance of the scene.
Most guests wore tuxedos and gowns, echoing Old Hollywood glamour, with sparkling sequins and flowing fabrics.
Jaime, donning what passed for her formal armor—a floor-length black silk dress, simple yet elegant, with a daring back—was in the middle of talking to Councilman Meyer when she saw her.
For a moment, she felt dragged back five years ago to the Alumni event where she’d first spied Olivia. Much like then, the room fell away, her focus narrowing on the stunning woman in front of her.
Clad in deep-purple silk that hugged her curves and shimmered in the chandelier light, Olivia looked stunning—exquisite, even.
But knowing the sweet scent of her skin, her responsiveness to Jaime’s touch, it made the sight all the more devastating.
God, she needed to stop, considering the heat twisting in her stomach didn’t belong at such an event.
Jaime had been so focused on Olivia that she’d blurred out the surrounding people, at least until a familiar, handsome man grasped Olivia’s elbow and leaned close to whisper something to her.
Olivia nodded, smiling at him.
Jaime frowned; not only did the sight douse the heat she’d just wanted to extinguish, but her stomach clenched, a mix of frustration and something she didn’t care to name churning within her. Her breath hitched, each inhale felt heavier than the last.
“Am I boring you, Judge Lachlan?” Meyer asked.
“Excuse me?” Jaime focused on the Councilman.
“You seem miles away, and then you frowned as if you’d just heard the most offensive thing.”
More like seen.
Jaime suppressed a grimace. It was nothing to her whom Olivia chose to date, though she questioned her taste, given Judge Johnson was an irritating know-it-all. “No, no. I apologize, but I seem to be coming down with quite a terrible headache.”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Let us continue our conversation another time, yes?”
“Of course. I hope you’ll feel better soon, Judge Lachlan,” he said and left.
Jaime’s gaze once more drifted to Olivia as she laughed, the sound a silver bell cutting through the low hum of conversations.
A pang of discomfort shot through her as she watched Johnson lean closer, his hand brushing against Olivia’s bare arm.
It shouldn’t matter whom Olivia spoke to, but the sight left her thoughts spiraling—too messy, too loud.
Jaime spun around, the taste of champagne souring on her tongue as she headed toward the restroom.
She needed a moment of pause so she could stay another half hour, move along the outskirts, accept her award and head home. Not ideal, but it would have to do.
Jaime stood in front of a mirror, her hands clenched on the cool porcelain sink with her head bowed and her eyes closed when the door creaked open. She straightened—it wouldn’t do for anyone to catch her so…out of sorts.
Glancing at the mirror, her breath caught when Olivia appeared behind her.
Neither said a word at first, just standing there, staring at each other until Olivia strode a couple of steps closer, her gaze taking in the expanse of Jaime’s back.
“That’s some dress.” Olivia’s voice rang rough, reminding Jaime of the raspy sounds that had spilled from her lips at the hotel.
Jaime’s hands tightened. She turned around. “Won’t your date miss you if you spend all your time chatting in the ladies room?” She quirked one eyebrow.
Olivia’s brows furrowed. “My date?”
“I suppose he is forgettable.”
Olivia only held her gaze, her eyes widening after a moment. “You don’t mean Jack, do you?”
Jaime’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t know you were on a first name basis with Judge Johnson.”
“We go way back.” Mirth danced in Olivia’s eyes, and Jaime longed to wipe it away.
“I see.”
“I highly doubt it.”
“Either way, it’s irrelevant.”
“Is it?” Olivia strode closer.
Jaime inched away, shivering when her bare back touched the cool sink, arresting her movements. “Yes.” She jutted her chin.
Olivia halted in front of Jaime, whose heart played percussion with her chest wall.
“I noticed you watching me.”
Jaime’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.
“That’s not why I followed you, though.”
“Oh?” Satisfaction swirled through Jaime, and she barely suppressed quirking her lips.
Sighing, Olivia folded her arms, which made her chest even more prominent. “I wanted to talk to you again.”
Jaime’s gaze found Olivia’s eyes. “I fail to see what’s left to talk about.”
“Naturally.” Olivia’s tone turned clipped, and her jaw tightened. “I understand what happened at the conference means nothing to you, and it’s not so much about that night, but your behavior since then.”
Jaime’s eyes widened, and she stepped closer. “My behavior?”
“Yes. I don’t appreciate your accusations or denigration of my character. I didn’t lie to you, and I hope you’re not spreading your assumptions to your colleagues.”
“Are you serious?” Jaime gritted her teeth, Olivia’s terse tone hitting a nerve she didn’t realize was exposed. Part of her bristled at the accusation, unwilling to let Olivia assume the worst of her, while another part—smaller but louder—stung with guilt.
Perhaps she had been unfair. Had her bitterness clouded her judgment?
Olivia raised her chin but remained silent.
“Do you think I go around and tell other judges to be mindful not to have sex with you because you what? Use it to gain the upper hand for your clients?”
“That’s what it sounded like in your chambers.” Olivia’s eyes narrowed.
Jaime exhaled harshly, willing her heart to stop thrashing. “I wouldn’t do that, so you don’t have to worry.” Never mind, she never talked about her personal life with her fellow judges, and sharing that night… Preposterous. Olivia should know better.
“Good,” Olivia said, not moving or saying anything else.
“Good.” Jaime also just stood there.
“I guess I’ll go back out, then,” Olivia finally said.
“Yes. I’m sure Jack is all lonely and lost without you.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, but instead of turning and heading out of the bathroom, she stepped closer. “Why are you acting like a jealous ex when the night meant nothing?”
Jaime’s mouth opened and she once more stumbled back, wincing a little as the hard, cold porcelain of the sink dug into her back.
“It didn’t,” she said, holding Olivia’s gaze, though she felt the lie even as the words left her lips, trying and failing not to lose herself in those verdant eyes that called to her. “And I don’t,” she added, as though saying it aloud might make it true.
“Right.”
“It didn’t matter to you either, considering you’re already out mingling.”
“Jack is my brother-in-law. He asked me to join him because my sister Emily, his wife, is pregnant, ready to pop and the last thing on her to-do list is attending tonight’s shindig.”
Jaime exhaled in a rush. “He’s not—”
“No. And for the record, I’m a lesbian.”
Jaime could only nod. Her mind shouted at her to wish Olivia a good night and escape, yet her feet appeared to be made of lead, as she couldn’t seem to move.
“I was watching you all night,” Olivia whispered.
Jaime hated the shudder running through her at the tone, even more so the memories flooding her mind, and she loathed the yearning to lose herself in Olivia again. “I never said I noticed you,” she pressed out. How pathetic.
Olivia chuckled. “Right, because you didn’t just spend most of this conversation complaining about my date with Jack.”
As it seemed to be the case too often, Jaime had no reply for Olivia.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about your dress.” Olivia bit her lower lip.
Jaime’s gaze roamed Olivia’s figure, and when their gazes met, Jaime idly wondered if her eyes looked as feverish as Olivia’s, if her cheeks were as flushed.
“Mostly, I’ve been picturing how it would look on my bedroom floor.”
God, no. Jaime felt her resolve slipping, the line between propriety and desire blurring with each moment Olivia stood so close. Her gaze dropped to Olivia’s lips, and for a moment, she warred with herself.
This was reckless, dangerous—but it was Olivia. And that was all the reason her body needed to betray her.
A small gasp fled her lips, and it might have been louder or more drawn out, had Jaime not pushed herself forward and claimed Olivia’s lips in a hard, fervent kiss. For a fleeting moment, nothing else existed.
But as Olivia’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, a whisper of doubt broke through the haze of desire. Jaime knew she should stop—before the fallout consumed them both—but Olivia’s kiss drowned out reason, leaving only the unbearable ache of wanting more.