Page 106 of By Invitation Only

“Yes, all of them,” she hissed.

“Okay.” I grabbed the first apple. Clearly my mother was frazzled from all the prep, so I kept my mouth shut and sliced all of the apples.

Four apple pies, two pumpkins, and prime rib later, the beginning of Christmas Eve dinner was in the making. I wasn’t sure why my mother was making so many pies, but I wasn’t going to ask her. We had enough food for an army.

My mom and aunt were making mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls; again everything I thought we were eating the following day. Usually on Christmas Eve we had salad, confetti pasta which was a shrimp linguine pasta with peppers and onions, and for dessert we had cheesecake. My family had clearly lost their minds.

When I walked into the living room, my dad was watching college football with my uncle Archie and my cousin Brendan. I let out a sigh as I sank into the couch, my feet and back aching.

“Where’s my pie?” Dad asked.

“Shit,” I muttered. “I forgot. They’re still in there making sure everything’s warm. I guess Uncle Tommie and Aunt Torrie will be here in ten or so minutes.”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “Do you want to ask me what you wanted to know before they get here?”

I looked to my uncle, and he looked to my dad and then my cousin. “Brendan, let’s go check on those pies.”

I smiled and then replied with a nod to my father. “I do.”

Dad sat straight and leaned toward me. When we were the only ones left in the room, he asked, “What is it?”

“When you were practicing, did any of the attorneys become… um… intimate with each other?” I felt the heat rise up my neck and into my cheeks as I murmured my question.

He balked before asking, “What?”

“I mean opposing counsels. Did anyone that you know of have a relationship with an opposing counsel?”

His peppered eyebrows drew together. “Are you asking because you’re seeing someone you have a case against?”

I knew bringing up the question was going to make him ask me the one he’d asked. Since my father was a criminal defense attorney, and a criminal judge before he retired, I figured he didn’t know any of the attorneys in family law, especially Booker. But I wanted to ask his professional advice.

I looked down at my lap. “Yes,” I answered truthfully.

He leaned back in the chair, not saying anything.

My gaze turned to him. He was staring at me. “Are you mad?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

He sighed. “Because this is going to piss off your mother, and I’ll have to hear about it for a week straight.”

“What?” I blinked. I had no idea what my father was talking about.

“Let’s not get into that. You’ll find out soon enough. And to answer your question, yes, I’ve known attorneys to have relationships with each other.”

“Did they get in trouble?”

“With the bar you mean?”

“Yes,” I answered. That was my only concern. If Chandler and Patterson found out and they had a problem with it, I could always find another job. It would suck, but it was possible. If the bar found out, they could suspend my license to practice and then I’d be screwed because it probably wouldn’t be a short suspension.

“I don’t know for certain, but I don’t think they ever found out, and the relationship ended fairly quickly.”

“Oh,” I sighed.

“Let me ask you this, Peyton. Are you serious with this guy?”