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“Petra! Chill.”
“What? It’s important to be thorough.”
“God help the next guy you go out with.”
“First.”
“What?”
“First guy,” Petra said, looking more at her feet than at Sara.
“No way. You went on dates when we were working at Legal Aid.”
“Technically, I pretended to go on dates. It’s just … you know. With my condition. Well, he’d have to be a special guy to put up with that.”
Sara’s heart actually broke a little. “Pet….”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. Just tell me when you’re seeing him again, and I’ll live vicariously.”
“I’m not. He’s leaving town,” she rushed to add, before Petra could give her the same lecture that Manny had been warming up to. “Work.”
“You believe him?”
“I do,” Sara said, surprised by her own certainty. “He left me flowers,” she added, as if that somehow underscored his sincerity. It didn’t, of course, but the bundle of tulips she’d found on the doormat when she’d left for work that morning had considerably brightened her day. She’d never been given flowers before, hadn’t even realized there was a hole in her heart until his gift had filled it.
There was no note, but it didn’t matter. Of course she knew that Luke had left them. They’d marked each other. Gotten in each other’s heads.
And, despite what he’d said, she was certain she’d see him again. For the first time in a long time, she wanted a second date. And a third, and a fourth. With luck, that would happen.
Now, she slipped her right hand into her blazer pocket, her fingers finding the red ribbon coiled there. It wasn’t enough—not nearly—but it was all she had, and she let the memory of last night roll over her. He’d moved her. And damned if she hadn’t wanted to be moved.
“Petra!” From where he was leaning against the wall, Kiril raised a hand, pulling Sara from her thoughts.
“Gotta book,” Petra said. “Call me.”
“Will do.” She glanced at her watch. “Shit. I have to go, too. With a quick wave, they took off in opposite directions, Sara only slowing when she was within two doors of Porter’s office. She paused, made certain she wasn’t gasping, then casually entered the antechamber.
“Oh, good, Sara,” his assistant said. “He just finished a call. Head on in.”
She found him sitting behind his desk frowning at a pile of briefs, but as soon as she sat, his attention turned to her. “So how are you feeling today? Still flying high?”
“A bit,” she admitted. “Right now, I’m irritated with Division 6 grabbing our cases. I’m sorry if my voicemail was a rant, sir, but I just don’t understand how they’re claiming jurisdiction when—”
“Stemmons is being transferred to San Quentin tomorrow. He’s not appealing.”
“Oh.” Sara sat back. “Why on earth not?”
“Maybe your case was too tight.”
Sara smirked.
“It was tight,” Porter said. “And it got you noticed.”
“Noticed?”
“By Division 6,” he said, clearly fighting a smile. “You have to love the irony.”
She shook her head, not quite sure she heard him right. “Division 6? What does that have to do with me?”
