Chapter 6
Gianna
I was halfway through explaining the displacement pattern when I realized I’d been staring at the same slide for a solid eight seconds without speaking.
Professor Diane cleared her throat. Not loudly. Just enough to pull me back.
“Sorry,” I said, clicking to the next slide. “So as I was saying, the timeline shows coordinated targeting rather than opportunistic acquisition.”
Three other clinic supervisors sat around the conference table, all of them looking various degrees of interested or skeptical. I’d spent the last week preparing this presentation, and all I could think about was the dress hanging in my closet that I’d bought specifically for dinner with Archie.
Dinner he’d canceled yesterday with a text saying he was swamped with work—apologetic but brief. Professional, almost.
Focus, Gianna.
Professor Diane made occasional notes. When I finished, she set down her pen.
“The case is strong,” she said. “The pattern is clear, violations well-documented. But you know what you’re up against.”
“Devlin Holdings has resources to bury us in procedural motions,” I said. “They can delay discovery, file objections to everything, drag this out for years while families are displaced in real-time.”
“Exactly.” Diane looked at me directly. “You can’t win this on procedure alone.”
I knew what she meant. “Internal documents.”
“Internal documents proving the displacement wasn’t accidental, but coordinated corporate strategy.”
“Discovery should yield something,” I said, though I didn’t feel as confident as I sounded.
“Maybe. But their lawyers will fight every request.” Diane’s expression was sympathetic but realistic. “You prepared for that?”
“I’m prepared to fight every objection they throw at me.”
She studied me for a moment. “Proceed carefully. Expect aggressive opposition. And don’t take it personally when their lawyers come at you with everything they have.”
The meeting wrapped up with cautious approval to move forward. I gathered my notes, already mentally drafting the next round of discovery requests.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Sam
Event tonight. Alumni networking thing. You coming?
I’d forgotten about it entirely.
Gianna
Fine. But I’m not changing clothes.
Sam
Bold choice. I respect it.
I arrived at the event an hour late, still wearing what I’d worn to the presentation—slacks and a blouse that looked professional but definitely not expensive. The kind of outfit that screamed “law student” instead of “successful alum.”
The venue was nice though. Top floor of some building near campus, big windows overlooking the city, warm lighting that made everything look more expensive. Waiters circulated with wine and appetizers.
Alumni in tailored suits clustered in groups, talking about cases and firms and opportunities with the easy confidence of people who’d already made it. I grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and tried to look like I belonged here.
Sam found me within five minutes. “You actually came.”
“You would have harassed me for weeks if I didn’t.”
“True.” He was dressed better than usual—actual suit instead of his usual blazer and jeans combination. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes. That’s literally the point of networking. You talk to people, they remember you exist, maybe someone offers you a job that pays actual money instead of clinic stipends.”
He dragged me around the room for twenty minutes.
I shook hands with partners at firms I’d never heard of, made small talk with alumni who all seemed to know each other from law review or moot court or some other shared experience I wasn’t part of.
My wine disappeared faster than I intended, so I grabbed another glass.
Then I saw him.
Archie stood near the windows across the room, wine glass in hand, looking polished in a dark suit that fit him perfectly.
My heart did something stupid in my chest.
He noticed me at the same moment I noticed him.
For a second—just a flash—his expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite read. Surprise maybe, or something sharper, almost like panic. But then his expression smoothed into something more neutral and I wondered if I’d imagined it.
We moved toward each other without discussing it, like gravity pulling us together across the crowded room. I was very aware of every step, of the wine glass in my hand, of how I probably looked compared to everyone else here.
“Gianna.” He said my name like he was relieved and worried at the same time.
“Archie.” I stopped in front of him, suddenly very aware that I was still in my presentation clothes and he looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“A friend invited me. Said it would be good networking.” He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m starting to think he lied.”
“Networking events are universally terrible.”
“Agreed.” He looked at me for a moment, really looked at me, and something in his expression made my pulse kick up. “I’m sorry about dinner. I wanted to—work just got complicated.”
“It’s fine.” I waved it off even though I’d spent an embarrassing amount of time being disappointed about it. The dress was still hanging in my closet with the tags on. “I understand being busy.”
“Still. I should have given you more notice.”
“You gave me a day’s notice. That’s more than most people manage.”
Sam appeared at my elbow before Archie could respond, his curiosity barely contained. I could practically see him checking every detail about Archie—the way he was standing, how he was looking at me.
“Sam, this is Archie,” I said quickly. “Archie, my friend Sam.”
They shook hands while Sam surveyed Archie with the intensity of someone conducting a full background check. I caught Sam’s eye and gave him a look that clearly said don’t be weird.
He ignored it completely.
“So you’re the one who canceled dinner,” Sam said pleasantly.
I wanted to die. “Sam.”
“What? I’m just making conversation.” Sam smiled at Archie like butter wouldn’t melt. “Gianna was very understanding about it.”
Archie looked between us, clearly trying to figure out how much Sam knew. “I really am sorry about that. Work’s been—”
“Complicated, yeah, she mentioned.” Sam took a sip of his wine. “What kind of work do you do again?”
“Real estate development.”
“Interesting. Gianna’s working on a real estate case, actually. Small world.”
I wanted to kill him. Slowly. With witnesses.
“I should let you two catch up,” Sam said, backing away with a smile that promised we’d be discussing this in detail later. “Nice meeting you, Archie.”
He disappeared into the crowd before I could strangle him.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “He’s protective.”
“It’s fine.” Archie’s smile was more genuine now, reaching his eyes this time. “It’s nice that you have someone looking out for you.”
“He’s also incredibly nosy and has no filter whatsoever.”
“I got that impression.” He turned his wine glass in his hands, and I noticed again that he did that when he was thinking. “So what brings you to a law school networking event besides a protective friend who threatens you?”
“Sam said I needed to network or I’d end up unemployed and living in a cardboard box under a bridge.”
“Dramatic.”
“That’s Sam.” I relaxed slightly. This felt normal. Easy. Like the coffee shop had felt. “How was your day? Work still… complicated?”
“Always.” His fingers tightened slightly around his glass, just enough that I noticed. “What about yours? How’s the clinic?”
“Frustrating.” The word came out carrying every bit of the frustration I felt. “I’m working on this displacement case and the company we’re fighting is just—they’re everything wrong with development in this city.”
“What company?”
“Devlin Holdings.” I took another drink, the wine loosening my tongue. “They buy buildings, claim emergency repairs, push out all the tenants, then sit on the property for months before doing cosmetic upgrades and charging triple the rent. It’s legal theft dressed up as business.”
Archie went very still, like someone had pressed pause on him mid-movement.
“They don’t just take homes,” I continued, too frustrated to notice immediately.
“They unravel entire lives. Families scatter because they can’t afford anything nearby.
Children have to change schools mid-year.
Elderly residents lose access to their doctors.
Community networks that took decades to build just dissolve in months like they never existed. ”
“That’s—” He stopped. His throat worked as he swallowed. “That sounds devastating.”
“It is devastating. And the people in charge don’t care because they never see the damage firsthand. They just see profit margins and property values on spreadsheets.” I looked at him then, his face had gone pale, his jaw tight. “Are you alright?”
“What?” He blinked, snapping back from wherever he’d gone. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking about what you said.”
“About Devlin Holdings?”
“About all of it.” He set his wine glass down on a nearby table, his movements careful and precise like he was concentrating very hard on the simple action. “I’m sorry—I just remembered I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should go prepare.”
The excuse was so transparent it almost stung.
“Oh.” I tried to keep my face neutral, tried not to show the disappointment settling in my stomach. “Sure. No problem.”
“It was good seeing you.” He was already stepping back, already putting distance between us. “I’ll text you. About rescheduling dinner.”
Then he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the exit like he couldn’t get out fast enough.
I stood there holding my wine glass, watching him disappear down the hallway toward the elevators.
Sam reappeared at my side, concerned replacing his earlier amusement. “Did Terrace Guy just run away from you?”
“Apparently.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I was talking about my case. About Devlin Holdings and displacement.” I replayed the conversation in my head, trying to figure out where it had gone wrong. “I don’t know. Something I said made him bolt.”
“Maybe he’s uncomfortable when confronted with actual problems,” Sam said, shrugging like it was obvious. “Some people are like that. They want interesting conversations but not ones that actually require them to think about uncomfortable things.”
“Maybe.” But that didn’t feel right. Archie had asked about my work. Had seemed genuinely interested until I mentioned the company name and what they were doing.
“Also he canceled dinner on you,” Sam added. “Which honestly, red flag. I’m starting to think Terrace Guy was an incident.”
“An incident?”
“A thing that happened that you remember fondly but that shouldn’t be repeated.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully. “I’m just saying, maybe the universe is trying to tell you something and you should listen.”
I wanted to defend Archie, to say there was probably a good reason for everything—the canceled dinner, the sudden exit, the way his face had changed when I mentioned Devlin Holdings.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That there was something he wasn’t telling me, something important.
We stayed at the event for another hour. I made half-hearted attempts at networking, shaking more hands and collecting business cards I’d probably never use.
Later that night, lying in bed and staring at my ceiling, I pulled up my phone and looked at our text thread.
Archie
I’m really sorry about Friday. Work’s been insane. Can we reschedule?
Gianna
No problem! Let me know when works for you.
No response since then. And today he’d literally run away from me at a networking event.
Gianna
Hey, it was good seeing you today. Hope your meeting prep goes well.
I stared at it for a full minute.
Then deleted it without sending.
If he wanted to talk to me, he knew how to reach me. I wasn’t going to chase someone who was running away.
I set my phone on my nightstand and tried to force myself to sleep.
I’d stop thinking about Archie and his canceled dinners and his sudden exits.
I barely even knew him, I reminded myself. That we’d spent one night together three years ago and had coffee once and an awkward conversation at a networking event wasn’t enough to know someone.
But as I drifted off to sleep, my mind circled back to that moment when Archie’s eyes had held something that almost looked like fear.