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coordinates. I bet he thinks it proves that he got to all these places first and that he’s never by her house.”
“So, if it’s not on, then it’s not tracking,” Sloane mused aloud.
“Part of me thinks he’s burying us in papers. He sent years’ worth of records. And not just this. The bank statements, credit cards, credit reports, all this stu goes back years. There’s thousands of pages.”
When Sloane lost the feeling in her lower legs, she stood slowly and sat in her chair, one of the few surfaces not covered in dead trees.
Arwyn didn’t stop talking even to catch her breath. As she rattled o the discovery inventory she’d thrown together, Sloane watched her. Her eyes were practically radiant as she spoke, growing more excited by the second. It was like her mouth couldn’t keep up with her brain.
Sloane forced herself not to smile, but the more Arwyn wound herself up, the more irresistible she became.
Watching her spout theories was like watching a violinist run her bow over fresh strings. It was, in its own way, an enchanting thing of beauty. Like jurisprudence seen through the eyes of a poet.
Every so often, her full lips moved in an unexpected way and revealed the deep dimples at her cheeks. Each time, Sloane’s heart would slow and start again too fast, like a sport’s car skipping a gear as it raced around a hairpin curve.
This girl with the stupid name and the unrelenting competitive streak that alienated half the people around her had turned her down. Sloane tried to think of the last time someone rejected her.
She could only think of one. Olivia Katz. They’d played volleyball together since junior high. Sloane had formed a
crush on her immediately, though it had taken her a while to figure out that’s what it was.
It was only when Laura Burke threw herself at Sloane in their shared hotel room during the state volleyball championships that it finally clicked. In that moment, she understood there hadn’t been anything wrong with any of her boyfriends or with her. She just wasn’t attracted to boys.
Unfortunately for Sloane, Olivia and Laura were best friends. When she worked up the nerve to ask Olivia out, she’d said no. Laura had called dibs and apparently it didn’t matter that she had zero interest in Laura. The rules of the high school jungle were clear and sacrosanct.
Now there was Arwyn, but Sloane was pretty sure there wasn’t a Laura standing between them. Was she really so afraid of things becoming complicated? It wasn’t unreasonable. DV was a small o ce. It wasn’t like they worked with hundreds of attorneys in the main building.
There, they could easily work for years without running into each other. Here, there was nowhere to hide.
Yet, despite the reasonableness of Arwyn’s concerns, she wasn’t saying something. A more immediate reason. It was no secret they’d been kind of horrible to each other. Had the harm their egos wrought been irreparable?
Sloane’s stomach sank remembering what it had been like before they’d started their stupid rivalry. There’d been a spark of something. Something uncommon.
Is she afraid of that coming back? Sloane’s chest tightened.
Am I?
CHAPTER 26
A FULL DAY of working next to Arwyn and pretending they never kissed was all Sloane could take. It wasn’t just the kiss they were ignoring. Arwyn had taken to being so polite, Sloane didn’t know how to talk to her. Instead of mutual jabs and giving each other a hard time in the enjoyable way they did, there was something worse than silence. There was small talk. Formality.
Mashing the elevator button, Sloane slid in with a few other people from the o ce. Other than a good morning muttered between sips of her triple mocha frap, she couldn’t will herself to exchange any more pleasantries. Who knew tearing into Arwyn’s pantyhose would make her susceptible to so many shallow interactions?
When Chin Dimple asked her if she was going to Taco Tuesday for lunch with the rest of the mouth breathers, she hit her limit. Instead of turning down the corridor leading to her o ce, she made a sharp right and followed the maze to the law library.
Law library was far too generous a term, especially compared to the classic handsomeness of the dark wood
furniture and thousands of tomes present in the main building. In the little DV o ce, their library was a glorified broom closet with just enough space for a single round table that couldn’t seat more than six.
Sloane was happy for the meager o erings if it meant not being tormented by Arwyn’s doe eyes broadcasting her every emotion. It was too much to take.
She should have turned back when she saw the sliver of light under the door, but she only connected its significance after it was too late.
The library wasn’t empty like she expected. No, of course not. Why would the universe pay her such a kindness as solitude?
At the sound of the opening door, Ari glanced over her shoulder. She’d been staring at one of many papers taped to the bookshelves.
“Is it your intention to have every inch of this o ce covered in Dominguez’s personal a airs?” Sloane asked, instantly regretting the sharp edge in her tone. Ugh, since when did she care about playful taunting? Was she turning into the kind of person who made comments about the weather to strangers?
