Chapter One
Lorcan
“Lorcan Abernathy, the jury has found younot guilty. I hereby release you.” The judge pounded her gavel.
The sound reverberated through my chest.
I turned to my lawyer, Arnav Mehta, and held out my hand.
He shook it.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Oh, I’m certain you’ll find ways. Like I can always use a babysitter.” Panic must’ve shown on my face, because he quickly added, “Just kidding. The kids are newly arrived, and we’d never leave them with a stranger. But you never know when something else might come up. Look, you’re under no obligation. Legal aid paid for the representation. You were innocent. We got the right outcome.”
I’d known I was innocent—but no one had believed me.
No one until Arnav.
“I don’t know what to do.” As I stood there, I barely had the clothes on my back, let alone a job or anything to return to.
He considered me for a long moment. “I have a suggestion.”
“What?” Eagerness rose within me. Anything. I would do anything.
“You know my husband is a construction foreperson, right? Working on not-for-profit housing projects.”
“Yes.” I’d known Foster Coates by reputation. He now went by Foster Mehta and was taking a leave of absence to look after their two new foster children.
“He arranged for Riley Conway to take over his latest project and is looking for someone to lead the drywall crew on the new housing development they’re building in downtown Mission—”
“I’ll take it. Oh God, would they really hire me?” I’d been living under a cloud of suspicion for more than a year. I really needed a fresh start.
He held my gaze. “You used to own a construction company and do huge subdivision projects. This is a hell of a step down.”
“I don’t care.” And I truly didn’t. “Look, we know there’s no company left for me to run. Midas Construction is dust.”
The construction company I’d owned with my husband had once been the envy of the industry. We built high-end luxury houses on acres of land in exclusive subdivisions. We made huge profits because our clients were willing to pay almost any price for having the best of everything.
“Yeah, I figured as much. Riley’s team pays a fair wage. You’ll be able to keep a roof over your head and maybe even start to put your life back together.” His dark-brown eyes grew flinty. “Don’t fuck this up.”
His husband’s reputation was on the line. “I won’t. I swear I won’t.” He’d just defended me against fraud charges. Had taken my word that I didn’t have a penny to my name. That I didn’t have some stash I was going to access when the brouhaha died down. All that was true. Stephen had absconded with everything he’d been able to liquidate behind my back. He’d stolen millions from our company—and from our clients—and he’d fucked offto God knew where. The as far as I knew, the authorities hadn’t been able to find a single trace of him. Hell, the corporal from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who arrested me tried to prove I’d murdered my husband.
My lying, cheating, thieving husband.
Well, ex, now.
Arnav had helped me file the divorce paperwork as one of the first things I’d done. To try to distance myself from Stephen himself, not just his actions. Just before the trial began, I won my freedom from the asshole.
Not that the freedom was worth much. Thenot-guiltyverdict was worth way more. “I won’t fuck this up. I promise.”
Slowly, he nodded. He extracted a business card from his suit-jacket pocket. “Riley is expecting your call tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” If the jury hadn’t come to a verdict, I’d have worried I’d have to wait over the weekend. Or, worse, that they’d rush the verdict just to get out of there and not have the case hanging over them during the weekend. I’d read about that.
I lucked out. Or so I believed. The jury had delivered its verdict after two agonizing days of deliberations. At ten-thirty in the morning.
“I know it’s Saturday.” Arnav offered a rueful smile. “She needs someone to start Monday morning. She’ll interview you tomorrow. Make certain you’re a good fit.”
