“Ow!” Levi said, pouting.
Shiloh pointed at the phone, giving him a look. Levi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Coe.”
Jericho barked out a laugh that made Shiloh jump. “Yeah, no problem, kid.”
Then he was gone. Shiloh and Levi looked at each other, both of them saying, “Shower? Shower,” at the same time.
As they waited for the shower spray to heat up, Shiloh ran a million scenarios in his head, the best case being that Malachi would get to come home.
Oh, please. Oh, please. Oh, please.
Levi tugged awkwardly at his slightly-wrinkled black button-down shirt, smoothing it over his chest again. He’d put on his nicest jeans and his cleanest boots, but he still felt wildly out of place. Beside him, Shiloh stared a hole through the marble wall like he had x-ray vision. He’d borrowed a cream-colored crew neck sweater from Nico and a pair of jeans from Levi. They were a little long, but it just looked like a stylistic choice, not ill-fitting clothes.
Not that it mattered.
When they’d entered the lobby downstairs, the receptionist had given them a hard once-over then tried to point them to the service entrance, assuming they were workers. When Levi had explained they had a meeting at noon with Lorenzo Conti, she’d stared them down for a solid minute before finally giving in and calling upstairs. When whoever answered the phone confirmed they did, in fact, belong there, she’d sighed dramatically and pointed to the bank of elevators. “Thirteenth floor.”
“This guy better be good. We’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
Levi turned to glower at Seven, who sat at the end of the long wooden conference table wearing baggy jeans, a navy blue beanie, and a navy hoodie so big that it could have comfortably housed a family of raccoons for the winter. Seven ignored Levi’s look, spinning in the leather chair, then lifting his feet and throwing his arms in the air like he was on a rollercoaster.
“You could have waited in the car,” Levi reminded him. “Or, better yet, just dropped us off.” He reached for his phone. “Actually, you still can. We can just grab an Uber. Have a safe trip back.” Levi gave an exaggerated wave. “Bye-bye.”
“You’re ungrateful,” Seven said, sounding hurt. “I took time out of my day to help you?—”
“You just didn’t want to work at the garage, you liar,” Levi countered.
Seven gave him the finger. Levi gave him two in return.
Seven stuck out his tongue. “You’re welcome.”
Before Levi could counter, Seven flipped his hood up to cover his eyes, like he was contemplating taking a nap, even though Levi knew he was too keyed up to sleep during the day. Of all the people Jericho could have chosen to give them a ride, why Seven? He didn’t know how to act right if Jericho wasn’t there to keep him in line.
If they’d known this Conti guy would be late, they wouldn’t have had to rush. They could have at least tried to look less like…criminals. Though, technically, he guessed theywerecriminals. But wasn’t everyone who came to a defense attorney? No, that wasn’t right. Innocent people went to jail all the time. Hell, that was why they were there. To get an innocent man set free.
But was Mal really innocent, though? Or just in prison for the wrong crime?
“What if he says there’s nothing he can do?” Shiloh whispered out of nowhere before starting to gnaw at his thumbnail.
“He would have said that on the phone,” Levi assured him, pressing a hand to Shiloh’s now rapidly bouncing leg. “He wouldn’t rush to meet us just to say there was nothing he could do, right?”
Shiloh hesitated, then nodded, laying his head on Levi’s shoulder. Seven played a game on his phone. Levi thought about signing in to play as well, but he couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts were jumping around from topic to topic, no real landing spot in sight. He stared out through the glass door of the conference room, taking in the upstairs lobby.
While downstairs had been all bleached wood and fake plants and shiny chrome, upstairs was marble, walnut wood, and glass. The place just reeked of money. The walls and floor were made of the same white marble, shot through with streaks of black and gray and gold. There was a chandelier over the front desk and a waterfall that took up the whole right wall. When they’d arrived, the receptionist—a much friendlier red-haired girl with bright green eyes—had walked them past five or six glass-walled offices before handing them off to Lorenzo Conti’s paralegal, Drucilla Presley.
That was how they’d ended up in this enormous but boring conference room. The table could easily fit twenty people comfortably and the leather office chairs were buttery soft. A projector screen took up part of one wall and four enormous plants partially hid the speakers mounted on the wall in the corners.
Levi was contemplating why a law firm might need surround sound when an intimidatingly large man came into view, stopping at Drucilla’s desk. Was that Lorenzo Conti? Levi looked at Seven, grateful he was still hyper-fixated on his game. Therewas no way his friend would be able to control himself around the man in front of him.
Please, don’t let that be Lorenzo Conti.
The man spoke with the snotty paralegal—Drucilla—while she threw back her head in a fake laugh, tossing her glossy ponytail over her shoulder, while smacking her glossy lips and dangling her glossy black heel off of one toe. She certainly hadn’t been that friendly to them. She’d led them into the conference room an hour ago with a pinched expression and frosty demeanor, stomping around the room, side-eyeing the three of them like one of them might trip and get their poverty all over her.
Now, she leaned over her desk, rounding her shoulders so her huge breasts were at eye-level with the stranger. To his credit, the man didn’t acknowledge her blatant flirting, too busy pointing at papers he clutched in one meaty hand.
Levi continued to study him. He was tall, well over six-foot. He had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and an ass that said he spent a lot of time in the gym. His deep brown hair was short on the sides but long on top, swept back into a professional style. He had olive skin, thick brows, a prominent chin, and a large nose that looked like it had been broken more than once. None of those things should have made the man attractive, but the universe had smiled because the man was good-looking, objectively speaking.
He was dressed like most of the people in the building except his snowy-white dress shirt was open at the collar and rolled up to reveal his forearms, his patterned tie hanging loosely around his neck. His charcoal gray pants were likely part of a much more expensive suit, but the jacket was nowhere Levi could see. Maybe he’d left it in his office.
