“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.”
