“I meant how are you going to handle things once you’re sleeping with her again? Or has that already happened? We haven’t seen you in a few days...”

“I’m not sleeping with Autumn, Mom and Dad. But if I was, why would I need a game plan? It’s pretty simple…sort of like doing the vertical hokey pokey. You put your penis in, you pull your penis out, you put your penis in, and you shake it all about. I can write down directions, if you want. I know it’s been a while for both of you.”

Juliette had been nibbling on the end of her chopstick, but she now used it to jab into my arm. “Seriously, dumbass. What are you going to do about Dickson?”

“Well, I’m not going to do the vertical hokey pokey with him.”

“Stop being a jerk, and be serious for a minute,” she said. “You need Dickson’s vote. Do you really think that when he finds out you’re banging the woman he’s been seeing, he’s going to vote for you?”

“First of all, I’m not sleeping with Autumn, and second of all, if I was, it wouldn’t be any of his business.”

Juliette frowned. “So that’s your plan? You don’t have one.”

I looked at Trent as the voice of reason. “What am I missing here? What plans should I have?”

Trent sucked on the straw in his soda until it made an empty slurping sound. “Your plan should be to retreat, at least until after the partner vote.”

“How can I retreat from a case?”

Juliette rolled her eyes. “You just said yourself that you settled the case she’s involved with. You call her and give her the good news, and then you don’t speak with her again for a month or so.”

I’d been thinking more along the lines of telling her in person and suggesting we have a drink to celebrate. But I didn’t mention that. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

We ate our lunch in a conference room with glass walls, basically a fish bowl. Just as I lifted another piece of shrimp to my mouth, none other than Dickson himself walked by. He glanced inside, saw me, and opened the door.

“Decker, what’s going on with the Stone case?”

What an idiot. I knew what he meant, but why let him off easy? “Stone? Did it just come in? I’m not familiar with it.”

His lips pursed. “You don’t even remember the damn kid’s name? The pro bono I assigned you…”

“Oh! Storm. My client’s name is Storm.”

“Whatever. Where are you on that?”

No way was I letting him call Autumn with my good news. “I’m in talks with the DA. It’s looking promising.”

He nodded. “Good. Make it happen. This case is important to me. Keep me updated.”

I gritted my teeth and plastered on a politician’s smile. “Sure thing.”

Just as he turned to go, he said, “I don’t think I have to remind you that you have a lot riding on how things go the next month. Make sure you give every case your all—even the ones we don’t get paid for. Don’t just skim the surface because there’s no billable hours involved.”

As if he actually gave a flying shit about pro bono cases. Last year when my freebie case was for a nursing-home resident, he’d told me the time I put in should be in proportion to how long the woman was going to last.

My jaw flexed. “Of course. I won’t skim. I’ll penetrate as deep as possible.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Juliette’s eyes widen. She quickly looked away. If Dickson noticed, he didn’t show it. He looked between the three of us and nodded. “Good. Keep me updated.”

As soon as the door closed and he was out in the hallway, Juliette’s eyes bulged. “Are you nuts?”

I smirked. “Just doing what the boss wants.”

“You are such an idiot. Forget the dumb, deep-penetration remark. Luckily that seemed to fly right over his head. But he asked you if you settled the case—which you did—and yet you said you were working on it because you want to be the one to tell Autumn.”

“So?” I shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I get to tell my client the good news?”

“Autumn is not your client. The kid is. Besides, he asked you to keep him apprised of the status of the case. Don’t you think he’ll be annoyed when he finds out from the woman he’s seeing that you settled it?”

She had a point, but I wasn’t about to let that bozo take credit for the strings I’d had to pull. I shook my head. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll work out.”

“You know what you need?”

I nodded. “I do. In fact, I’m the only person who knows what I need.”

Juliette ignored me. “You need a distraction.”

Being here in the office had felt like a distraction lately. “I’m fine.”

“I’m going to set you up with my friend. She’s a yoga instructor—bends like a pretzel and gorgeous.”

“I’m good, but thanks.”

Trent had been quiet, but he looked at me and shook his head. “Juliette’s right. It’s a little over a month until the partner vote. Dickson’s riding you about how that case is going for a reason. He’s obviously really into Autumn. I’m not saying you back off forever. But maybe put what you want on the back burner for a while. A month isn’t that long to wait.”

It had been less than a week since I saw Autumn, and it was already too long. I was sure my friends were overreacting. But it wouldn’t take long to realize maybe their perspective had some merit…

CHAPTER 15

* * *

Autumn

I did not feel like going to a party.

My insides churned as we drove out to the Hamptons for the barbecue. I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong—like I was guilty, even though I hadn’t committed a crime. Well, no physical crime anyway. Now, emotional strangulation? That was an entirely different story.

Blake glanced over to where I sat staring out the window. “You feeling okay today?”

“Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind with work.”

He nodded. “Is Stone giving you trouble again?”

I frowned. “Storm. And no, he’s actually been a little better lately.”

“Blake Jr., my eight year old, goes through phases where he acts out, too. Usually it’s just because he wants a little extra attention.”

Ummm…I think Storm might be more upset that his mother is an addict who ditched him, and he’s stuck living in a group home filled with troubled kids no one wants. “Most of my kids act out because they’re angry, rather than wanting attention. They don’t know how to handle their emotions, and they’ve been taught on the street that any display of feelings is a weakness.”

Blake smiled. “Listen to you—you sound like Dr. Wilde already.”

I attempted a smile and went back to staring out the window.

Rupert Kravitz’s home was in the tiny village of Sagaponack, which was part of the Hamptons. If Blake hadn’t told me it was the most expensive zip code on the East Coast, I might’ve actually liked the quaint little town as we drove through. But as soon as he started to rattle off the names of famous people who lived here and how many Goldman Sachs brokers owned houses on the water, I got the same bad taste in my mouth as I did going home to good ol’ Greenwich and my father’s uppity cronies.