A reporter lurked outside the building’s front door. Thanks to the anonymity of the Explorer, he ignored us as we pulled out of the garage.
“Hey. Snap out of it. I’m sure they’re building up plenty of evidence. You got this.” Gray grinned at me out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the road. His confidence heartened me, and I had to admit it did wonders to soothe some of my nervousness. As did his smile.
“I’m okay. Wondering what I did in a past life to get stuck with her.” I didn’t deserve someone so horrible.
Gray let out a wry chuckle. “You must’ve done something pretty bad. Did you make it a habit to go around kicking kittens? Or insulting deities?”
I rolled my eyes at his attempt at humor, but also tucked my lip under my teeth to keep from smiling. “What’re we going to do at your place?”
His eyes lit up. “I thought you’d never ask! What do you know about comic books?”
My brows furrowed a slight bit. “I know a little from the superhero movies. I love watching superhero movies.” As an afterthought, I threw out, “Capes are a definite turn on.”
“I’ll log that one away for future reference,” he said with a straight face. “Any other preferences, besides capes?”
My giggles gave me away before I even said the words. “I love a man in tights.”
“I’ll find the pictures of Wes in his Peter Pan costume. They’re stashed somewhere for future blackmail.” He couldn’t hide the laughter in his voice.
Giggles soon turned to belly laughs. The short drive to his apartment building was fun instead of a worry-fest about my stepfamily. Gray had a knack for cracking me up.
Gray’s apartment building wasn’t as nice as mine, but it also wasn’t a hovel. “Have you lived here long?”
“Since we moved from Atlanta after college to start the firm.” Ever the gentleman, he jumped out and ran around to open my door before I could even get my seatbelt off and pick up my purse.
“You’re awfully young to have such a successful firm. How’d you do it?”
“We started college at sixteen, thanks to homeschooling. Finished at twenty-three.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “When we first started, we all shared the apartment I live in now. We were broke, living off a small allowance from our parents.”
He opened the door to an elevator alcove. “They gave us six months to start making our own money before they cut us off. We lasted another six months on small nickel and dime cases. Luckily, we won most of them.” He tapped the six buttons.
“What changed?”
“A man came to us, said he was innocent. He was accused of murder, and the prosecution’s case was strong.”
“You believed him?” They were ballsy to take on such a difficult case.
“He convinced us. We aren’t about defending criminals. We’ll defend someone if we believe their innocence. He was the first, though.”
“I take it you won the case?” I was impressed.
“Sure did. We worked around the clock searching for loopholes, previous cases. We ended up catching a break by figuring out he had a brother that had been put up for adoption as an infant.”
The elevator dinged, and we got out. “The brother framed him for the murder. Said he planned to take over the guy’s life, the life he should’ve had all along.”
“That sounds like a story out of a thriller novel.” I should commission the story.
“Doesn’t it? It was a miracle we happened upon the only surviving document from the sealed adoption and were curious enough to go down that rabbit hole.”
“So, you got a lot of media attention?” I asked as I followed him down the sixth floor hallway.
“Tons. The entire world heard about the case. Everyone in our city was so convinced he was guilty. When the truth came out, the public hailed him a hero. They even had a parade for him. You don’t get outcomes like that one often.”
We stopped, and he pulled out a key. “After his case, every criminal in the city called us to defend them. We have to screen defendants carefully. We put them through a rigorous interviewing process.”
His apartment was decorated like mine—that is to say, it was hardly decorated at all. He had bare, cream-colored walls and boring, forgettable furniture. “You don’t spend much time here, do you?” I asked.
Only one framed picture hung on the wall. I got close enough to realize it was his own diploma, in a frame similar to Arch’s, and also held a picture of his family.
