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“Excuse me, sir,” she said, motioning for me to step back. “I need to get inside my apartment.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” She took out her key and slid it into the lock.
“I’ll talk then,” I said. “They don’t pay well at the public defender’s office and you won’t learn anything but how to lose.”
“That’swhy you’re here?”
“I was also hoping you could tell me where you left the Fallon files,” I said. “You left so abruptly and unprofessionally that you didn’t take the time to organize your office.”
“Okay.” She pushed her door open, sliding inside and making it evident I wasn’t allowed inside. “Goodbye, Damien.”
“You’re not going to tell me where the Fallon files are?”
She shut the door and the sound of her locking the deadbolt echoed down the hallway.
I blinked, waiting for her to be dramatic and open the door for a much-needed reunion.
An hour passed, and the only thing I heard was her blasting theater music.
SEVERAL UNRESOLVED CASES (& BLOCKED CALLS) LATER
MENTAL SUFFERING (N.)
EMOTIONAL PAIN SYNONYMOUS WITH "MENTAL ANGUISH"
DAMIEN
Stole Money (Charging Him Double)
Are you no longer taking on my case?
Bribed a Mayor
I know you hate texts, but…I have heard from you this week.
Mafia Daughter
Are you still planning to help me get out of this?
Imuted a new set of text messages, making a mental note to have Michelle handle these people later.
Later, later, later…
That word had never been much of a staple in my vocabulary until recently, and it bothered me. Not as much as Elizabeth continuing to play games and ignore me, but it was still an unwelcome feeling.
As I walked into the firm, I spotted a delivery driver flirting with Jessica at the main desk.
“Excuse me,” I said, tapping his shoulder.
“Uh, yeah?” He turned around.
“Give me your cell phone.”
“Huh?”
“Pull it out of your pocket and give it to me.”
