A rowdy crowd of college students playing a game of billiards shouted in delight, startling them both.
Olivia rolled her lips. “We can agree life is easier for people with money and connections, and so when those people come into conflict with the law, they also often get away with more.”
“You would know all aboutthat.”
Olivia frowned at the venom in Jaime’s tone. “Everyone has a right to legal representation.”
“Yes, but there are public defenders, and then…there are lawyers like you.”
Olivia held Jaime’s stormy gaze. “I didn’t create the system.” Her voice rang sharp and hard as a muscle in her temple pulsed. Was that how Jaime saw her? Lawyers likeher?
“No.” Jaime leaned forward. “But onecouldargue that you help perpetuate it.”
Olivia crossed her arms. “So do many judges by handing out lesser sanctions to people based on their skin color, family connections, or money.”
They both glared at each other before breaking eye contact.
Olivia observed the content of her almost empty wine glass as the indistinct murmur of voices, people lost in their own conversations, grew louder in the stillness settling between them.
She didn’t know what had happened or how their intriguing discussion had derailed so quickly that she found herself frowning when she realized she wanted to take things back, to fix what had just been broken.
But how? She’d not apologize considering she’d donenothing wrong, and moreover, Jaime had thrown the first punch. Still, it smarted that Jaime thought of her as being so callous.
Jaime sighed. “Perhaps we are both cogs in the same broken machine.”
Olivia found Jaime’s gaze again. Her dark eyes had lost their anger, yet they still seemed to swallow her, and despite being unable to decipher the intent in their depths, she felt pulled into them, which was such a terrible idea. “Perhaps.”
She was aware of the system’s inherent inequality and unfairness, as well as her role in it, yet she excelled at what she did. Olivia loved to win—the rush of excitement flooding her veins, warm and heady, was something she’d never tire of.
She bore no responsibility for the workings of the world. In their profession, if you wanted to thrive, you had to play the game. Hard.
Olivia clenched her jaw. Why did Jaime have to be so attractive and so…frustrating at the same time?
Some boundaries were more flexible than others, and yes, she used the system to her advantage so her clients won, but wasn’t that the point? Besides, being aware of a flawed system didn’t mean you had to have a drive to change it.
Surely there were granola-chewing do-gooders out there already working on it. She had no desire to join them, and the feeling was surely mutual.
risks none taken
JaimeLachlandidn’ttakerisks. She didn’t play. Her life comprised work and her almost unnatural (to others) enjoyment of her solitude. She neither needed nor wanted other people in her life, as they offered nothing but distractions and complications. Not to mention, most friendships ended in disappointment, so why would she waste her time?
As such, what she said next made no sense and went against what her head—so much smarter than the rest of her—begged her to do.
“Care for another glass? My treat—consider it an apology of sorts.”
Olivia smiled. “Thank you.”
Jaime signaled for the server to refill their drinks. “I’d also like an order of French fries, please.”
“They’re delicious.”
“I know.” Jaime emptied her glass, the flavor of dark berries lingering on her tongue.
“You’ve been here before?” Olivia asked.
“Several times. In fact, this place is the reason I agreed to attend the conference.”
Olivia gazed at her as if expecting Jaime to proclaim she was joking, and when she didn’t, Olivia blinked furiously, then laughed. “You’re serious.”
