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She’d just put a stale, unappealing everything bagel in the toaster when the distinct sound of her mother’s high heels striking the tile floor sounded behind her like a hammer to a chisel.
“We have dinner with Pipo in a few hours,” her mother said instead of hello.
Carmen turned, leaning against the counter behind her. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
Her mother’s eyes darted from the toaster oven and back to her face. “Why not? Where have you been?”
“I had a motion hearing to cover for Barry. It was supposed to be a simple motion to compel, but they alleged all these discovery violations and you know how Judge Mena is,” she stopped before she sounded like she was complaining.
“Why do you say that like you were unprepared?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Carmen had two choices, and neither was attractive. She could throw Barry under the bus and tell her how he’d misinformed her of the state of the case, which would make her look like a bad team player and a whiner. Or she could argue that no one could be prepared to handle a case without knowing what was going on, which would make her sound petulant and defensive.
“I handled it,” Carmen replied with the most limited version of the truth.
“You’re behind on your billable hours this month,” she said it like it was a natural continuation of their conversation.
“There’s still a few days left in June,” Carmen replied, trying to keep her voice level before turning around to pull her half-heated bagel out of the toaster. It was bad enough she hated the flavor of the only one left in the box, but it would be chewy now too. It was still better than being picked at by her mother after a sleepless night and an exhausting day doing someone else’s work.
“And do you plan to bill eighteen hours a day?”
Of course she’d done the math.
Carmen turned too quickly. Her posture too stiff. “Well, if you’d backed me up in resisting Bamford’s stupid anger management—”
“If you’d been able to control yourself and not drive into the back of someone’s car,” her mother said, unfairly reframing the facts.
Irritation simmered under Carmen’s skin. “That’s not what happened.” She forced herself to stay cool. To unclench. To soften her expression into a blank slate. Her mother tested her temperament all the time. Remaining calm under any circumstance was a huge part of what made her mother an excellent lawyer. She never lost her temper. Never let anyone manipulate her into making a decision based on anything other than reason and logic. “She cut me off—”
“And you drove into her, did you not?” She asked like she was leading her on cross-examination. “Perhaps if you’d been paying attention, you would have been able to avoid the collision. An alert driver is always aware of her surroundings.”
The morning of the crash came roaring back to her.That’swho Lola was. A hateful, selfish, thoughtless person who did whatever the hell she wanted, no matter who she hurt.
Scratch that, she’d cut her off on purpose, forcing the crash. Making her look bad in front of Bamford, her mother. She’d nearly killed Julio just to do it. That’s who she was, and she couldn’t let herself forget it again.
Without taking a bite of her mostly cold bagel, Carmen wrapped it in a napkin and retreated to her office. She needed a moment to let the pin-balling thoughts in her head come together. Yanking off her suit jacket, she sat at her desk, mind racing to gather the objective facts.
She’d never make the mistake of sleeping with Lola twice. She wasn’t stupid or reckless. Not usually. But the pull toward her had been irresistible. Like some external influence had coerced her into it.
Thinking of Fortune, of the candles and smoke and powders and nonsensical chants. Of the oil she’d rubbed on her skin. Of the black hole, gravitational force of Lola’s lips. She’d felt high at the time, hadn’t she? Like she was in some altered state. Like she’d lost control over her ability to make rational choices.
And Lola had seemed almost compelled. Touching Carmen, pulling at her, like she couldn’t stop herself.
Carmen had given in so easily. Let Lola have her. Not just that, Lola had begged for Carmen. Moaned and cried and pleaded for more like she couldn’t find a fuck to give about looking weak. Lola wouldneverdo that. Not in her right mind.
A tingle rushed over her skin. Light-headed and dazed, she made the only logical conclusion based on the facts. She touched her forehead where Fortune’s fingers had been.
Fucking Fortune drugged us, she decided before springing to her feet.
Asking the receptionist to put a calling client on hold as she bolted for the elevator, Carmen hit the floor for Dominion. It was about to be the end of anger management. The end of Fortune and Lola and all the messy turmoil of the last couple of weeks.
CHAPTER14
In Dominion’s spa-like bathroom,Lola ironed her dark hair dead straight. She wore it pinned back in a bun so often she hadn’t realized how long it had gotten.
Hair well beyond the middle of her back was unprofessional. Combined with a face she was constantly reminded made her look younger than her thirty-three years, wearing her hair long and loose was childish. Contoured makeup and false lashes notwithstanding. It was time for a respectable below the shoulder cut.
But this was a necessary evil. Lola wanted to look young and vibrant for her meeting with Kiki. Annoyingly, she wasn’t the only agent who had stumbled upon the talented influencer. Somehow, there was now a ridiculous bidding war for the privilege of representing her.
