Too curious…
“Next potential client,” Rachel says, flipping to a new page. “There’s a guy in the Bronx who?—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “Tell the shady loan guy I’ll take his case.”
“What?” she gasps. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Have I ever?”
“I’m hoping today will be the change.”
“It’s not.” I pull my bagel closer. “If he can afford the retainer, tell him I’ll happily put up a defense.”
She sighs and steps back. “I’ll get you the victim’s pictures and hope you’ll change your mind.”
“Okay, you do that,” I say, even though we both know I won’t.
“There’s a seventeen-year-old boy who can’t afford a decent lawyer and who is actually innocent.” She looks at me from the doorway. “He’s someone worth defending.”
“All clientsare worthy of defending, Rachel.”
“Even the murderers?”
“Theallegedmurderers.” I narrow my eyes. “Yes.”
“I need to feel good about the work I do here, Jameson.”
“Then look at your paycheck.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Her voice is soft. “Can you, like, for once, take on someone who actually deserves the help?”
“Send in the teenager’s file with the loan shark guy’s,” I say. “I’ll look at it.”
“Thank you.” She walks away, and as I smear cream cheese on my bagel, I see Scarlett’s thighs.
The blueberry that’s pressed inside reminds me of her butterfly tattoo.
Enough.I toss the bagel into the trash and order a salad.
Then I open my email to see if she’s finally confirmed her address, and she hasn’t.
She just re-sent me her phone number with a shrug emoji.
That’s never fucking happening.
FRAUD (N.):
THE INTENTIONAL USE OF DECEIT, A TRICK OR SOME DISHONEST MEANS TO DEPRIVE ANOTHER OF HIS/HER/ITS MONEY, PROPERTY OR A LEGAL RIGHT
JAMESON
One Week Later
There’s a woman in this courtroom gallery who looks a lot like Scarlett from where I’m sitting. So much so that I’m convinced that maybe—just maybe—I can get to her after court and close out the simple-ass task of returning her shoes. Then she’ll finally stop appearing every few hours in my mind.
Her face is buried in the pages of a book, and with every page she turns, she slides a hand through her auburn curls.
Look up at me.
