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“You know what I think? You need to consider getting another job. Being prosecutor of the year isn’t making you happy any longer.”
She wasn’t wrong, but I also wasn’t ready to give up on it just yet.
“What about you?” I teased.
“I’d give anything to handle prosecuting cases versus being forced to act as if I believed or cared about the lowlifes I’m representing.” She caught herself, looking away. “I know that’s terrible to say.”
“We all have bad days,chica. That’s what I’m chalking my bad mood up to.”
And the fact you fucked the suspect like a wild, bucking horse.
“I know. You just don’t know how lucky you are to be the golden girl.”
“Me? The golden girl? Right.”
Huffing, I yanked out the ice cream container, grateful she’d also brought my favorite chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies with her as well. I hadn’t eaten all day and after being at the morgue, I couldn’t handle the thought of eating anything other than sweets. That was my form of self-medication, including the wine.
“Aren’t you being a bit testy,” Jenny said, teasing me. She was a brilliant attorney as well, but she preferred being on the defense, enjoying being the hero to her clients. Or maybe I was wrong. It had to be tough trying to remain princess of the family she’d grown up in while toeing the line in defending criminals. I couldn’t do what she did for a second.
“I have good reason to be.” I pointed to the cabinet. I didn’t need to tell her to get out the bowls. We’d had this routine for several years after grueling events or breakups with bad boyfriends. I’d known her since college, which meant we knew almost everything about each other. Secrets. Fears. Fantasies. She was like a sister to me.
Sadly, what had occurred with Jonny couldn’t be revealed to anyone. Maybe I was embarrassed or just angry with myself for being so stupid. I yanked out two wineglasses, almost breaking both in the process.
“Why are you so upset? Is it the case or the hounding from the press?” she asked a few seconds later.
“Both.” I fumbled before I managed to hold onto the wine opener.
“Please don’t tell me you’re angry about Matt. You are better off without him.”
“Oh, fuck, no. Our breakup was long overdue. Would you believe the bastard erased every picture of the two of us on his Facebook and Instagram account?” I’d actually looked for no other reason than to try to reground myself. Maybe I was also attempting to find a reason for my reckless behavior.
“I noticed. I’m sorry but you know how I felt about him. I still think a bad boy is in order for you.”
That’s how the entire ridiculous situation started in the first place, my foray and drop straight into hell.
“Nope. I’m done with men for a little while.” When I broke the cork in the middle, I growled.
“Methinks you protest too much. Did something happen at that swanky hotel?”
“Uh, no. Of course not.” I sensed I’d answered too quickly. Shit.
Jenny slapped the bowls on the counter then yanked the bottle and opener from my hand. “Ri-ight. Spill it. What is going on? Were you a bad little girl?”
I walked to the kitchen window, peering out at my tidy little front yard. I’d finally gotten around to planting flowers, even purchasing two gorgeous vases for the front porch. Yet I rarely watered them or bothered paying any attention like I’d promised myself I would. I’d even purchased myself a swing that was hanging from two thick steel hooks from the porch ceiling. I’d honestly believed that I would take some time off frommy arduous work schedule to enjoy my beautiful home, even chatting with the neighbors. That had never happened. Not once.
If it hadn’t been for the continuous rains, the flowers would be dead.
“Nothing I can’t handle. My mood also isn’t about my weekend. I was strongly encouraged to go see the murderer today.”
“By whom?”
“Christine.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
“Tell me about it.”
She moved toward the file again, wine bottle still in her hand, snatching another look at his picture. “Tell me about him.”
