I also somehow managed to bill one of my highest weeks, and old man Kravitz came down from the ivory tower to tell me I’d done a great job for one of his personal VIP clients who’d gotten himself into trouble with the SEC.

Yeah, shit couldn’t have been going better.

My phone buzzed on my desk, and the picture I’d taken of Autumn last year flashed on my screen. At the risk of sounding like a complete dorky sap, a little warmth ran through my belly. Actually, if feeling like this made me a dork—I’d been totally missing out by trying to be cool all my life.

Leaning back into my chair, I swiped to answer.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“You answer the phone like that for all women, don’t you?” I heard the smile in her voice.

“There is no other woman, sweetheart.”

She sighed. “I called to say thank you for the stuff you bought for Storm.”

I’d stopped over at Park House this morning and dropped off a bag with a lock for the bicycle Bud had given him, and also a Nike sweatshirt with a reflective stripe down the side for when he inevitably rode in the dark. But he’d already left for school, and I was running late. The woman at the front desk was busy on the phone, so I’d written Storm’s name on the bag and motioned that I was leaving. It wasn’t until I got to my car that I’d realized I forgot to leave my name.

“How did you know I gave him something?”

“Hmmm… A good guess? When I stopped over at Park House for a meeting earlier, Rochelle at the front desk told me some hot guy dropped off a bag for Storm.”

I grinned. “You think I’m hot?”

She laughed. “I can see your gloating, cocky face right now even through a phone call. Let me guess, you’re leaning back in your chair, too?”

I sprang forward in my seat. “No, I’m not.”

She laughed. “Anyway, I just called to say thank you for doing that. It was very sweet. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“You’re always a welcome break.”

“You working late tonight?”

“Yeah. You and Skye watching your show and talking about me?”

“Believe it or not, not everything is about you.”

“I definitely don’t believe that.”

She chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Can’t wait.”

“Me too.”

An hour later, Blake Dickson appeared at my office door. I was on the phone with a client, but that didn’t stop him from coming on inside and taking a seat while I finished my call.

I forced a cheery smile when I hung up. “What’s up, boss?”

He picked up a crystal paperweight of the Earth I kept on my desk and tossed it up and down like it was a stress ball. I gritted my teeth—it had been a gift from Bud when I graduated law school, and was the only personal item to be found anywhere in my office.

“I need a favor.”

I need one too. Get the fuck out of my office.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I have dinner tomorrow night with Todd Aster. You helped squash an inquiry the feds made about some of his investments a few years back.”

“Yeah, I remember him.”

“Well, he’s going through a messy divorce, and apparently his wife has some documents related to that investment that could be damaging.”

“Statute of limitations still open?”

Blake nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“Okay...how can I help?”

“Fill in for me at dinner tomorrow.”

Shit. “I, uh, have plans.”

Blake sat up a little taller. “So do I. And I’m counting on you to handle this for me.”

Of course I couldn’t say no. So I nodded. “No problem. I’ll rearrange my schedule.”

Dickson got up and headed to the door without so much as a thank you. He turned back at the last minute.

“The vote’s coming up soon. I’ll be honest, I was pretty much team Mills when the candidates for partner were announced. But you’ve proven to be someone I can rely on, someone I can trust to have my back.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me, though I put on a solid fake smile. “Of course. Happy to help out.”

“I’ll have my admin send you the details.”

After he left, I slumped in my chair. I didn’t want to go to a damn dinner; I wanted to spend the evening with Autumn. Her two-nights-a-week rule was already killing me. Going down to one wasn’t an option.

When the email from Dickson’s assistant came in, I asked if we could possibly move the seven o’clock dinner to six.

The rest of the day got away from me, and it was almost eight before I checked my email and found a response confirming she’d been able to switch the time. Hopefully Autumn wouldn’t mind getting together a little later. I knew her friend was over for their Bachelor marathon tonight, so I didn’t want to call and interrupt. Instead, I shot off a text.

Donovan: Would you mind if we had a late dinner tomorrow night? Something came up at work, and I have to go to a dinner meeting with a client at six. I can probably be done by eight or eight thirty.

Autumn responded right away.

Autumn: Boy, I’m going to start to get a complex. First, Skye cancels on me, now you’re changing our date… Just kidding. Sure, that’s fine.

Donovan: Did Skye really cancel on you?

Autumn: Yeah. She thinks she has the flu.

Donovan: Sorry to hear that. I know you were looking forward to it.

Autumn: We’re down to the last five episodes, and I can’t watch TV or go on social media because I don’t want to accidentally find out who won! I told her if she tests positive for the flu, I’m watching without her because I need to go online.

I chuckled. I could never understand how so many smart women loved that dumb show.

Donovan: Spoiler alert. He picks the one no one likes.

Autumn: OMG! Are you kidding me? He picks Meghan?

Shit.

Donovan: I was joking. I have no idea how it ends. Or how it begins, for that matter. Though most of that shit ends the same way—whatever is best for ratings.

Autumn: You almost gave me a heart attack. Meghan sucks!

I laughed to myself.

Donovan: I’ll text you when I’m on my way tomorrow.

Autumn: OK. Have a good night.

***

The hearing I had the next afternoon wound up taking two minutes because opposing counsel showed up and asked for a last-minute continuance. Since I was meeting Dickson’s client at a restaurant closer to my house than the office, I figured I’d work the rest of the afternoon from home. I had prep work to do for a trial coming up, and home had fewer distractions anyway.

As I walked in, my cell phone rang.

I smiled and swiped to answer. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Is that a downgrade from gorgeous? I think I was gorgeous yesterday.”

“Definitely not.”

“I was just thinking—you asked if we could have a later dinner because you have to meet a client for dinner, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would we go out to dinner if you’ve already eaten?”

I shrugged. “You have to eat. Plus, I want to see you.”