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Lucas nods. “Just like that.”

“And you just…accepted it? What happened to the internal agonizing about your future?”

And maybe that’s a flash of shame in his eyes, I don’t know. I wonder how well I can read him.

“Well, the problem with all that agonizing is it wasn’t helping me with the future of my bills. I was living paycheck to paycheck at the time, the loan I took out for law school looming over me, and I was starting to panic about money. I needed a job. A real job. So I accepted the offer. I think a part of me thought: if I really hated it, I could always switch. It’s not like lawyers are locked into one type of law. But…” He shrugs, the movement a little stiff. “I guess I didn’t hate it, because I’ve been in contract law ever since.”

There’s something in his eyes as he says it. Not sadness, per se, but…doubt?

“What type of law were you considering?” I ask carefully.

Lucas must have hit his limit on the memories, because he gives me a fake smile and says, “Doesn’t matter. I’d be an idiot to leave what I’ve built here.” He holds his hands out wide. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to work on a case where the CMO’s bathroom breaks are the key to solving it?”

When I only give him a tight pity smile in answer, the humor drops from his face, and he turns to clean up his food.

“Anyway,” he says stiffly, stuffing his and my trash into the paper bag. “Thanks for letting me crash your dinner. Will you be here for much longer tonight?”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s after 10 p.m. We’ve been chatting for almost an hour.

“Probably not,” I decide. “I’m still doing most of my research on my computer, so I have plenty I can do at home. I just wanted to get through these physical files so I know what’s in here.”

Lucas nods as he straightens. “Makes sense. Do you have a lot left?”

To my surprise, I’m a little bummed as I shake my head. Without these files, I have less of an excuse to come into the office.

Apparently, Lucas can read my mind, because his next words are, “Well, regardless, you’re always welcome to work from here.” The smile he gives me is crooked but real this time. “It includes dinner catered by yours truly, if that sweetens the pot.”

TEN

LUCAS

For the next week, I bury myself in work.

Which is how I find myself going back to the office at 10 p.m. one night after a client dinner. I should be going home to sleep, but I know the only way to turn off my brain is to assign it a task.

Which I can do at the office. Where a certain green-eyed girl is currently working.

I toss my car keys to the building valet with a strained smile before stepping into the elevator that will take me to the office on the twelfth floor. Once the doors close behind me, I lean back against the steel wall with a tired exhale, my eyes sliding closed.

But they open again almost immediately when the elevator stops on the ground floor.

The doors open to reveal Charli.

Instantly, I perk up, my body straightening from its slouch.

“Ms. Miller,” I greet pleasantly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She’s shaking her head with a smile as she steps into the elevator. “As if we don’t both work insane hours in the same building.”

“Still. This is new.” Slowly, the doors slide closed. “What are you up to down here?”

“I needed to run home for a quick minute,” she explains, leaning casually against the corner of the elevator. I turn my body to lean against the opposite wall so I’m facing her.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

She waves me off. “Fine. My automatic cat feeder jammed so I had to run home to feed the dictator.”

My lips twitch with a smile. “Ah. Of course.”