Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Baz’s heart crashed to the floor. He shuffled to the edge of the bench. With an appalled hiss, Lucipurr jumped off him. “What do you mean he didn’t finish school? Of course he did! He had to.”
Eevee’s shoulders drew up as she tucked her elbows into her sides.
“Eh. I handled some of the paperwork on his case. He was kicked out for selling performance enhancing drugs, I wanna say, two, three years ago? It was a huge deal at the time. Didn’t you know that?”
“That’s for how long he has worked for Ian. But…” That couldn’t be. Ian might not be above committing a felony, but Sami was too smart to be a fraud.
But then why had Ian presented Sami like he was a lawyer on the case? Why had Sami followed Ian around like only an associate would?
…If not to come after Baz. Baz’s stomach tightened at the realization.
Collin had said his closet was made of glass. Maybe Ian only pretended to be oblivious. What if he had hired Sami to get close to him? Distract him, manipulate him—
Breathe. He couldn’t jump to conclusions about Sami’s intentions, not again.
Sami was his… something. Friend, probably.
Slightly more, if it were up to Baz, or had been until a second ago.
This didn’t have to mean anything. He could have transferred to a different school, o-or found a loophole to get certified anyway or…
or he was a much better actor than Baz had given him credit for.
Lips pressed together, Baz got out his phone and pulled up the ARDC—the Attorney Registration and Disciplinary Commission.
“What are you doing?” Eevee asked. He shook his head. Last name, Adam. First name, Sami. And… no matches. Not in Chicago, not in Illinois, not in the entire goddamn country.
Baz’s insides twisted into one, nauseated ball. “He’s not licensed.”
“Maybe he’s a paralegal or something?”
No. The case already had a paralegal, one privileged to join Ian at whatever meeting he had at court today while Sami waited outside. Because whatever he was, he wasn’t a lawyer.
No wonder Baz had found no trace of him on the Hoffman & Cobb website. No wonder he never got any credit.
It all made sense now. Why Sami hadn’t been deterred by his frosty attitude, why he hadn’t run for the hills like most men would have when Baz started to crack.
That had been the point all along, wasn’t it?
Getting under his skin to make him lose focus or whatever the hell Ian’s twisted mind had wanted to get out of this.
How had Baz been such a fool?
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin anything—”
“This is not your fault.” It was Sami’s. What reason did he have to hide his actual job description, whatever it might be, if not to lead Baz on?
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“Yeah.” Baz didn’t doubt the presence of a reason. Ian saying so, Sami feeling bored. Baz being an oblivious idiot who had seen a spark where there had been only a ruse.
What else had he expected? He wasn’t Eevee. People didn’t fall in love with him.
“He was so sweet with you, it’s obvious he cares. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm by not telling you.”
A knife rammed into his chest. Oh, Eevee.
Always seeing the best in people. It should have been a relief, hearing he wasn’t the only one who had fallen for the charade, but they hadn’t gotten the wrong impression by accident.
He bet he hadn’t run into Sami as often as he did by coincidence either.
This had been a game all along, and he had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.
“I should… I-I have to…” His phone crashed onto the bench when he jumped up. Somewhere in the room, Lucipurr hissed again. Baz couldn’t care, he grabbed his phone and was already out the door, pushing through a group of tourists trying to get in. The honk of a passing car bellowed in his ears.
If all that had happened between them was a lie… Baz didn’t have the words to describe how fucked up, how downright evil, that was. Worse, he knew Ian wasn’t above it.
What was the end goal here? Distracting Baz, making him fall in—breaking his heart before the trial? It wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t! Baz was better than that, he… he…
His knees trembled, forcing him to lean against the rough facade of a building.
He buried his face in his hands. His clothes were too tight, too much, the way they clung to him, itching his skin.
He ripped off his jacket, pushed his sleeves up.
Every cell of his body was on fire, barely cooled by the trail of tears running down his cheek.
What if it was all a lie? The words bounced around in his head tirelessly, taunting him.
“What’s wrong with him?” the loud, uninhibited voice of a child asked.
Baz blinked his eyes open against the overbearing brightness of the torturous sun.
The judgmental stares of strangers were arrows piercing through him.
He prayed for the ground to swallow him, to relieve him of the pain burning his heart.
But the universe wasn’t so kind, demanding once again that Baz took care of himself.
He gathered every fragment of strength he had and channeled it into his legs to move. He wrapped his arms around his body to hold himself together.
H-he needed to get back to the office. The only person who would give it to him straight, who would find an innocent explanation, could there be one, was Aya. She had called bullshit from the beginning. It was due time he stopped ignoring her wisdom.
The mere thought of taking the crowded train full of noises and smells pushed tears into his eyes. He couldn’t. No, one wobbly step after the other, he dodged people in his way, begging the tightness in his chest to let him breathe.
By the time he saw the gray river distorting the sunbeams, the growing void inside of him had swallowed most of the shakiness along with the colors of the world.
His feet carried him to Aya’s office, marching past Tammy without a hello. He wished he could claim he had a sixth sense for Aya’s schedule, but the truth was, she could have been in the middle of a meeting, he still would have barged in on her.
She was about to protest—he’d recognize her ready-to-fight expression anywhere—but a slither of softness eased the rock-solid frown.
“What happened to you?”
Only what she’d predicted would happen. What Baz had fancied himself to be above happening. The prickling heat returned to Baz’s eyes.
“Aya. I know you’re mad at me, and you’re about to get a whole lot madder, but I need a friend before I lose my mind. Can we do that? Please?”
Aya dropped the pen she was holding. “Okay?” The worry in her tone pushed the tears higher.
“A-and I need you to not yell at me or I will cry, and that cannot happen.” Not here. He had suffered enough embarrassment today.
She nodded as she stood up and pointed at the couch in the corner of her office.
Steps echoed on the other side of the glass walls—Baz had never despised them more, putting his pathetic breakdown on display.
He wasn’t a zoo animal to be gawked at. He sank below the backrest, slinking into the hard cushion.
“What happened, Baz?”
He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth. “I developed feelings for Sami.”
The part of him that was relieved to finally admit it got immediately stabbed by the creeping doubt.
Aya closed her eyes. Sighed.
“I tried to stop talking to him! But we got along so well, a-and he listened, and he was there for me, and…” His throat closed shut, suffocating every one of his high-pitched words.
“And now what? Is he blackmailing you?”
“No! It’s Eevee.”
“Eevee is blackmailing you?”
“No. She told me Sami never finished law school. I looked it up. He isn’t licensed.”
“Oh.” Aya frowned. “What are you saying? He’s been impersonating a lawyer? That’s a felony, we can get him for that.”
Baz’s butchered heart screamed out as a new dagger rammed into it. It was always about the case, wasn’t it?
He wasn’t interested in reporting Sami or playing stupid games. He just wanted Sami, and he hadn’t even realized it until the fantasy got shattered.
“I’m saying he lied to me.” His voice came out as a whisper, meek to his own ears.
Every thought, every worry that had plagued Baz on the way over poured out of him, an endless waterfall he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.
Aya’s confusion faded into something much worse: pity.
Baz sank deeper into the couch. His body felt heavy as though his bones had turned into bags of rice. A tear squeezed through his closed lids.
“Is there any explanation for this that isn’t him using me to sabotage the case?” Baz pleaded—with Aya, with the universe, with whatever higher power that cared to listen. One that might send him a sign that he hadn’t been played.
But Aya’s face screamed oh habibi, how naive you are, her kindest way of telling him he was being stupid. Fuck.
He stretched his neck along the backrest of the couch, rubbed his eyes. “Go ahead. Tell me you told me so.”
“I agree this doesn’t sound good, but despite recent actions, you actually are a smart person. You were so sure he wasn’t spying on you.”
“Clearly, I was wrong.”
It wouldn’t be the first time, as Sami had so generously pointed out Friday.
What did all that mean now? Were those still the wise words of the kind and funny and genuinely lovable man who supported him that night? Or had Sami only said it so Baz would doubt himself and his perception?
“I really thought we were more than the case…”
“Have you told him anything that might come to bite us in the ass?”
About his personal life? Plenty. About the case?
“No.” They hadn’t needed to revert to work talk when conversation had been so easy. How was anyone capable of faking that?
“That’s good. The way I see it, you have three options. Option one, you block his number, cut him out of your life, and pretend this never happened.”
Baz winced. He didn’t want to forget. He wanted it to be real.
“Option two, you go talk to him and hope he tells you the truth.”
But how could he tell what the truth was? What if the truth was as bad as Baz feared? What if Sami dropped the facade and laughed in his face and told him to get out of his life already, that he was glad Baz had caught on so he didn’t have to see him anymore?
“Or, option three, you could do what you should have done from the beginning: hit the breaks, be professional, settle the case, and then see where you stand. If he loses interest after the trial, you’ve got your answer.”
True. And risky.
What if what they had was real, but the case dragged on and Sami grew tired of waiting and moved on? Could it be, or was this just Baz making excuses to cling on to the hope this was all a misunderstanding, despite all evidence pointing to Sami not having been sincere? Yes. Yes, it was.
It would be the best for everyone if he just moved on, but after all they had shared… He squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled.
“Think about it. And don’t rush into anything. Give yourself some time to process.”
Baz nodded heavily. That sounded smart.
“How about we prep for the hearing?” Aya offered. “Once we’ve humiliated Ian and bled Captain Green dry, they’ll see that you are above their games. You’ll get your promotion, and it will be a lot easier to leave this behind.”
That was something the Baz from three months ago would have done. Things had been easier then, clearer. Perhaps it was time to revert to his old ways.
“Don’t worry. No one needs to know. If they try to use your affair against you, it will hurt them too. We’ll win the war.”
But Baz didn’t want to go to war against Sami. He wanted to be by his side so they could face the battle together.
That wasn’t an option, though, not anymore. Not if he couldn’t trust Sami to tell him the truth after showing him his most vulnerable sides.
Baz had to wake up.
Work was a chore. The words were nothing but a blurry haze escaping his comprehension.
Somehow, he managed to ignore his phone buzzing, the urge to check if Sami had messaged him, perhaps with a confession, an explanation, anything that could make this right.
In an act of pure masochism, his abstinence ended the second he got home. And of course:
Annoying Stalker
Wish I were in your bed right now… <3
Hows Eevee?
Could those be the words of someone who didn’t care? Or was Sami that dedicated to the act? He must have known Eevee would tell him the truth. She had clearly recognized him on Saturday. Was this his way of gauging whether Baz knew now?
Ugh.
Baz fell onto his bed, fully clothed, and pressed a pillow on to his face. This was why he didn’t do relationships or emotions or all the other crap.
He should tell Sami to leave him alone, just like Aya had suggested. But then it would be over, and the finality of that prospect threatened to tear his heart to pieces.
The groan that overpowered him came deep from his soul. He hugged the pillow against his aching chest, ignored the lingering scent of oakmoss that clung to the fabric.
What the hell was he supposed to do?