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“Have you killed the children to get some shut-eye?” Even my jokes are messed up.
“Don’t fucking joke about that, asshole. We hired a night nanny. I’ve been getting eight hours of sleep for a week now. And Ness all to myself, but I’ll spare you the details.”
He closes his eyes and tilts his head toward the sun, content and happy. Never did I think I’d be jealous of Rocco da Bonno, but right at this moment, I envy him everything, including the eight hours of sleep.
“You certainly look rested.”
He frowns at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
I don’t even know why I’m lying. Mostly because I don’t need Rocco gloating about my failure. Or to put my problems into words. Chils made her decision. I’m not good enough for her. No amount of dissecting would change that.
“Are you in your office? You’re back in Chicago?” He moves on his chair, leaning forward slightly to give me his undivided attention.
“Yeah, I’m back. Napoli got set up for murder.” I recline, pushing the flexible backrest of my chair and put my feet on the corner of my desk.
“Good. I’ve never liked that dickhead.”
Nobody really likes Napoli. Come to think of it, I hate his guts. Yet that has never stopped me from working with him.
The realization hits me like a brick in the head, the aftershocks echoing through my mind. Fuck me. Have I lost the first woman who ever meant anything to me for this?
“It was a setup. I’m going to get him off.” The lack of enthusiasm in my statement surprises us both.
Rocco narrows his eyes, as if squinting will let him pick up on my bullshit better. “I don’t doubt that. So you’re back-back, or just visiting to hit the headlines for your ruthless awesomeness as a defense lawyer?”
“I’m back.” What was my motivation to return? The headlines? The fame? The impossible case only I can win? The asshole Napoli? None of that seems even remotely important or exciting. Certainly not worth losing Chils over.
“What about London? I don’t think your sex drive can withstand a long-distance relationship.” He snorts, pleased with himself.
“We broke up.” This is the first time I’ve said those words. First time I admitted openly that it’s over between us. The words leak like acid all over my insides, slowly eating away at me.
Fucking Rocco laughs. “I know you’re not relationship material, but guessing by your overall state, I don’t think the breakup was a welcome development. What did you do?”
Smug asshole. “I didn’t do anything. She didn’t like that I took Napoli’s case, or the general idea of me returning to my work.”
He nods, scratching the back of his neck. “She wasn’t for the long-distance relationship?”
“Not with someone who defends criminals.” I click my stapler a few times, because discarding staples all over my desk is apparently reasonable behavior.
Rocco takes his cup and inhales the smell of the drink with reverence. “I’m kind of on her side.”
“What the fuck, Rocco? You don’t even know her.” But I don’t really blame him. I want everyone to be on Chils’s side. She deserves that.
“No, but from what you’ve told me, the woman spreads good around herself like fairy dust. If you expected her to give up on all her principles for you, you’re delusional.”
“Screw you. I’m good at my job. I have a successful firm here. I won’t give up everything because of a woman.”
The fact that I’m defending my firm and the work I no longer like is a new level of low. Like six feet under wouldn’t be low enough for the lies I tell myself. Or my friend.
“A woman?” He snorts, looking at me as if I was deranged.
“Okay, she was probably as close tothewoman as I’ll ever get, but that doesn’t matter anymore. She gave me an ultimatum. Nobody gives me ultimatums.”
“Sure. Sure.” Rocco raises his arms in surrender. “So, you’re happy being back?”
Oh, if only I could wipe that haughty grin off his face. Instead, I glower at him, because no, I’m not fucking happy. Because if I didn’t see it before from my high horse, I see now I made a mistake. Possibly the biggest mistake of my life.
