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Oh, God. No.

“Inside, you’ll find your nameplates on your o ce door. I know it’ll be tight, but we don’t expect it to be like this for more than a couple of weeks. We tried our best to match you up based on something you have in common, such as what law school you went to. Your patience and understanding are very much appreciated,” he added after several audible groans.

Sloane didn’t need to confirm that the universe hated her.

She already knew before she stepped a single foot in the o ce that she’d been slapped in the face with cosmic punishment.

Resisting the urge to leave the building and never return, Sloane thought of the personal favor her aunt had called in.

It mattered far more than the stupid three-year commitment she’d signed.

As she dragged her feet over cheap carpet, Sloane wondered if she might be able to get out of that commitment. After all, she’d been under great emotional distress when she’d signed it. That had to count for something.

With each corridor she passed, Sloane walked a little more slowly. Delaying the inevitable, she knew, but someone can

march toward a guillotine with her name on it only so fast.

After another turn, the dread blossomed to fruition, a miserable, petal-less flower that was her future. Standing at an open doorway, l

ooking at the nameplates as if begging her eyes to be wrong, stood Frodo.

Shit.

CHAPTER 14

A WEEK and a half of sharing the tiny o ce later, Ari and Sloane had reached an unspoken agreement: pretend the other one doesn’t exist. Their L-shaped desks were pushed together to form a T-shape. At first it was di cult to ignore Sloane. For some reason, IT had set up their computers on the stick part of the T butting up against each other.

In a moment of genius, Ari moved her computer to the topside of the T. Facing the wall was better than watching every stupid expression Sloane made or the regular, unintentional, unnerving eye contact.

Without comment, Sloane had her computer moved the same way and added several stacks of books and binders between them. Ari still had to see her every time she came into the room to get to her side of the desk, but the impromptu Berlin Wall was as much division as they were likely to get. At least until the others moved on and one of them was moved to a private o ce.

Ari was deep in thought, working on her first response to a motion to suppress, when a frantic redhead popped into their doorway. “MLS is here. She’s doing rounds.”

Ari popped out from her side of the room, peeking over the tower of books. “What?”

The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Get rid of that shit.

MLS will freak,” she chastised before darting o , presumably to warn the next o ce of the Queen’s imminent arrival.

“Push it to my side,” Ari demanded, speaking to Sloane for the first time since they’d been forced together. “There’s no time to put it away.”

Sloane’s lips twitched like she might say something snarky or annoying, but instead, she shoved the makeshift bricks, sending them tumbling to Ari’s bare feet.

I hope nobody heard that, she prayed, desperately stu ng the bottom of the desk with trembling hands. Her heart hammered so violently in her ears it took a moment to make out the background noise. It was Sloane, and she was freaking out.

When she’d concealed the disaster to the best of her ability, Ari started straightening the crap strewn across the shared part of their desk to make it look presentable.

“Why are you making more of a mess?” Ari snapped, exasperated at Sloane’s inability to help anyone but herself.

Sloane stopped throwing things out of her bag and glared at her with wild, menacing eyes. “I can’t find my pantyhose,” she growled, a hint of fear sprinkled in with her anger.

“Why aren’t you wearing them?” Ari demanded as she slipped into her wedge heels. “It’s in the handbook.”

Sloane seethed, looking like she’d happily strangle her if she could get away with it. “I know it’s in the handbook,”

she said through a tight jaw. “But it’s still so ridiculous to me that when I woke up and it was a hundred fucking degrees this morning, I decided to toss them in my bag instead since I didn’t have to be in court today.”

“Right,” Ari sco ed, “because the rules don’t apply to you. The rest of us can su er, but God forbid you share in the discomfort.” Ari crossed her arms over her chest, somehow still amazed at her elitist attitude.