Chapter 14
“What about arguing the search warrant wasn’t supported by probable cause?” I suggest.
Christina nods, making her colorful earrings jingle. “I’ll look into that too. If Marcus was incorrectly identified in the security footage, the search and seizure of any possessions in his apartment should be inadmissible. Right?”
“Right. The prosecutor still hasn’t sent the footage?”
The summer intern assigned to this case shakes her head, prompting more jingling.
I make a note. “I’ll give them a call”—I glance at the clock on the wall—“first thing in the morning. And you’re free to head out, Tina. Sorry for keeping you late.”
“No worries. I was happy to stay. You sure there’s nothing else I can work on tonight?”
I smile at her eagerness. This is my first time being on the other side of an internship. It doesn’t feel that long ago when I was the one excited to stay late and soak up as much experience as possible.
“I’m sure,” I say. “Thank you for all your help today.”
Tina nods and stands. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.”
I remain in the small conference room after Tina departs, adding to the list of tasks I need to follow up on, aside from badgering about the surveillance footage that could be pivotal in this case.
I jump when the door opens again, assuming everyone already left for the night.
My supervisor, Rachel, stands in the doorway with her hands placed on her hips. “Here you are! I’ve been camped out at your desk for the past fifteen minutes.”
I frown. “Sorry. Is something wrong?”
“Yep,” she replies, then adds, “We’re late for happy hour,” before I can become too concerned.
I laugh. “You guys go ahead. I’ll—”
“Meet us there. Right. Except you’ll stay here, working, until happy hour is over. Come on, Rory. I’m buying you a drink.”
As far as bosses go, Rachel is pretty amazing.
My interview with her was one of the main reasons I chose this job over the legal aid clinic I was also considering.
Rachel is boundlessly cheerful and optimistic, never displaying defeat despite the many times a day this job encourages cynicism.
She’s the same type of extroverted as Flynn is—effortlessly pulling people into orbit before they realize their attention has been captivated.
I stand, not wanting to disappoint her.
I haven’t purposefully missed the previous happy hours. I’ve just gotten distracted by the endless amount of work that needed to be handled here, then gone home to study for the bar. All that’s waiting for me at home now is my distractingly hot roommate, so I suppose a drink isn’t a bad idea.
I’m not going to let Rachel buy mine though.
I’m glad that no one here seems to be aware who my family is, but it’s awkward too.
I nodded along when Jackie was complaining about a rent increase yesterday.
And when Louis was ranting about his eye exam not being covered by insurance this morning.
I wanted to work here because I knew it would expose me to new people and unfamiliar situations.
But I sort of feel like a fraud, playacting at philanthropy, the way Kristin implied at the Harvard Law social.
Jackie and Louis are waiting by the faded couch in the small reception area, along with Rob, Carla, and Jennifer, when Rachel and I approach after stopping to grab my bag from my desk.
“Nice work, Rachel,” Louis says, grinning at me.
“There’s still a ton of work to do for the Marcus Riviera case,” I tell him.
“And Marcus is lucky to have you on his side. But you’ll be no good to him if you collapse from exhaustion on your way to court.”
“Come on, guys,” Rob says. He has one palm already placed on the door, waiting to push it open. “All the tables will be taken.”
“You mean, we might not be able to sit in the section assigned to your waitress crush,” Jackie teases.
Rob scoffs. “I don’t like standing.”
“You’ve been sitting all day,” Jackie returns.
I pull my phone out of my bag as they bicker, scanning the missed notifications that piled up during my afternoon meetings. It’s not until a disappointed twinge appears when I reach the end that I realize I was searching for a specific name.
I’ve hardly seen Flynn since he moved in.
He’s working full-time, too, his hours even more hectic than mine.
He makes dinner every night, so food is waiting in the fridge when I get home.
But he’s usually gone. Back at the office or out with friends?
Sometimes, the basketball by the front door is missing, so he plays at night?
The morning after we grocery-shopped together, I found a check on the counter.
August rent was written in the memo line.
I haven’t deposited it. The slip of paper is tucked in the pocket of the Sue Me tote from Wren.
I think about it more than I should, along with noticing the spotless counters and the arranged pillows on the couch.
I have no male aside from my dad to compare him to, but Flynn is an exceptionally respectful roommate.
He’s texted me a handful of times, asking if there’s anything I want from the grocery store or letting me know he picked up a package from the front desk, but there’s nothing from him now.
Again, I’m irritated by the prick of disappointment.
I was concerned he’d be an obtrusive presence.
His inconspicuousness should be a relief.
We walk to the bar that’s only two blocks away. The short stint in the heat has my shirt sticking to the small of my back. Even breathing is unpleasant, the hot, stagnant air oppressive and heavy to inhale.
It’s packed inside. A folding sign set on the sidewalk outside was advertising Thursday specials, and lots of office buildings are located in the immediate area. Every table is full, to Rob’s disappointment, but there are two open stools along the bar that we gather around.
“We’ll get faster service this way,” Carla says.
“Especially since the bartender can’t take his eyes off Rory.” Jackie nudges my arm. “No one look, but—Rob! I said not to look.”
“I was checking how close he was to taking our order,” he grumbles, resting an arm on the countertop to scan the rest of the bar. For the waitress, presumably.
“What can I get you guys?”
The bartender is looking straight at me when I glance over, which is a surprise.
I’m not convinced it’s not simply because Rob and I are standing closest to the counter, but his attention is flattering nonetheless.
No matter how many times I hear that it was Carson’s mistake and Carson’s insecurities that fueled his infidelity, you don’t cheat unless something is missing.
You don’t cheat on someone you’re incredibly attracted to.
Sex with the physician was underwhelming as well, so the logical conclusion is that something is missing … with me.
Everyone seems to be waiting for me to order first, so I do. “White wine, please.”
“We’ve got a whole list,” he tells me, indicating to a leather-bound menu.
“Whatever you recommend is fine.”
His smile widens. “Coming right up.”
He takes Jackie’s, Rob’s, and Jennifer’s orders, too, before heading down the bar to fix the drinks.
As soon as he departs, Jackie nudges my arm. “He’s super cute. You, Rob, and his waitress could double-date!”
“She’s not my anything,” Rob says immediately. “I don’t even know if she’s single.”
“And, as fun as a double date sounds, I think it would bother my boyfriend,” I add.
The last word sits strange in my mouth, lingering like it has weight or a taste.
It’s the first time I’ve said it referring to Flynn Parks, and the innocuous syllables sound different even though neither he nor anyone who knows him is here to witness it.
We’re supposed to officially launch our fake relationship this weekend.
My awkwardness now suggests that this was a much-needed trial run.
“Oh, sorry,” Jackie says immediately. “I didn’t—you’ve never mentioned anyone, so I just assumed …”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “It’s new. Well, new-ish.”
“Did you guys just meet?”
“No, we sort of … grew up together.”
That sounds weird to say as well, although it’s entirely accurate.
“Does that mean his family is loaded too?”
“Jackie,” Carla hisses.
“What? Don’t pretend like you haven’t been dying to ask what being a billionaire is like.”
I glance around at my coworkers. “I didn’t realize you guys all …”
“It’s an iconic last name,” Carla tells me.
“Especially in this city,” Jackie adds.
“Does your uncle seriously own FC—”
“What else can I get you guys?” The bartender returns, setting down my glass of wine and the other drinks, interrupting Rob’s question.
I assume he was going to ask about the Italian football club Crew is part owner of.
I already knew Rob was a sports fan; his office is decorated with lots of athletic paraphernalia.
Rob would probably be equally, if not more, impressed by my dad’s season tickets to all of New York’s teams. Or my grandfather’s sports agency.
But I don’t mention any of that. It’s hard to share details about my family, to allow people to get to know me, without sounding like I’m bragging.
While everyone who hasn’t ordered yet shares their requests, Jackie leans closer and whispers, “We don’t have to talk about your family, if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” I reply automatically. “I just … sometimes, it’s nice to be known for other things, you know? Especially at work.”
Jackie nods. “I mainly brought it up because I wanted to tell you, I think it’s incredibly badass that you’re so rich and still chose to do this.
I love being a public defender, but there are plenty of hard days I’d be really tempted to not show up if I didn’t need the paycheck.
So, kudos.” She taps her glass against mine and smiles. “Cheers.”