“Don’t get me started with that fool. His razzle-dazzle impressed me at first,” he says, lips twisted in disappointment. “As soon as he became a senior associate, however, it’s like a switch got flipped.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Jeremy Copeland is a good lawyer with excellent knowledge of corporate and financial legalese, but he’s a hedonist. He loves booze and parties with a little too much magical white powder, and it’s wearing him down. He’s actually on his way out of my firm. I just haven’t told him yet.”
My eyebrows arch with shock. “Seriously? It’s that bad?”
“He lost a couple of important cases that he should’ve won. His focus isn’t what it used to be anymore, and it’s not my job to handhold a grown-ass man with a law degree. You either adapt, or you die. There’s no room for weaklings in my firm.” He pauses and frowns slightly. “How do you know Jeremy?”
“He’s acquainted with a friend of ours,” I reply with a flat smile. “I met him in passing. I didn’t think much of him.”
“I don’t trust him,” Bancroft mutters. “I don’t know what happened to him over the past couple of months, but it’s had an impact on his performance in court.”
“Do you think he’s capable of something like this?” I ask, pointing at the photos again, and he takes a moment to think about it.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He wouldn’t dare, unless he knows I’m considering terminating him. But I’ve kept a lid on that, so the odds are slim.”
Slim, but not impossible, which means I can’t fully eliminate Jeremy as a suspect. We do need to hear from the sender,however, to get a better understanding of their angle and their intentions. Bancroft is right about one thing—this silence is on purpose.
“We’ll handle this,” I tell Bancroft. “That, I can promise you.”
“Oh, I know you’ll handle this. Because if this goes public, it’s not just me who’s screwed,” he says, leaving the unsaid hanging heavily in the air between us.
17
RAINA
“You look different,” Vivian says.
We haven’t seen each other since before I started working for Haus of Sin.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I say with a giggle.
One extremely long hug later, we’re seated at our corner table at Piccolo’s, our favorite café.
“No, I’m serious, you look different,” my best friend insists. “Did you do something with your hair?”
“It’s the same as it’s always been,” I reply.
I keep it caught in a loose bun, a few shorter locks framing my face and neck. The temperature has risen slightly, marking a slow but certain transition into spring. The snows have melted, and Portland seems grey and drab when there isn’t any sunlight. Fortunately, the sky is a bright blue today.
“What is it then?” Vivian wonders, growing increasingly persistent while the furrow between her brows deepens.She’s determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, and all I can do is laugh. “I’m serious. You’re glowing. Your skin’s brighter. Your eyes seem… I don’t know, bigger, sparkly. Oh, wait, that’s right.” Her confused grimace is quickly replaced by a conspiratorial grin. “You’re hooking up with three of Portland’s hottest, most desirable bachelors. I’d almost forgotten.”
“You didn’t forget.”
“No, I’m just yanking your chain,” she replies with a chuckle. “But I am serious, Ray, you look wonderful. Haus of Sin suits you, oddly enough.”
“Who’d have thunk, right?”
Vivian shrugs and goes over the drink menu. “I certainly didn’t. You keep surprising me, however, and I love that about you.”
“It’s good to see you, too. I needed a familiar face.”
“I really did miss you, you know.” She pauses and gives me a long look. “What do you want? The same as always?”
The question matches the waitress’s tempo to perfection, as the young girl in jeans, a white tee, and a bright green apron heads toward our table. “Welcome to Piccolo’s. What can I get you?” she asks with a sleepy smile.
“Same as always,” I tell Vivian, which is her cue to recite our usual order.
