Page 16 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

“How about I show you the city then? As a friend. Do you like pool?”

“Pool?” I ask.

My brain is whirring, trying to keep up with the conversation while also trying to force the haze of attraction into a box entirely too small for such big emotions.

“Yeah, you know. The game with the balls and sticks.” One corner of his lips kicks up in a smile at his double entendre.

“Oh, yeah. I used to play with balls and sticks all the time.” If he’s going to use innuendo, so can I.

He sucks in a harsh breath, caught at his own game, before he releases it.

“How about we hit up my favorite pool hall on Friday? What do you say? Pizza and pool?”

It beats another night binge-watching Searching for Love on TV.

Thank God one of the streaming services has all the previous seasons.

If I am not going to live my hot girl summer—and it is looking more and more like that isn’t going to happen—I can at least live vicariously through the reality dating TV show.

“Okay.”

“Six o’clock. I’ll pick you up at your place.” Neither statement is a question.

“I’m at Hannah Grace’s,” I remind him.

“I know.”

“How—”

“Leigh, there you are. We start any minute now. Are you ready?” Lindsay pokes her head out of the courtroom and my attention whips to her.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

How is it when I’m with Murphy, everything else disappears?

“Yeah. Sorry, I went to grab coffee and ran into Mur—Detective O’Connell,” I explain, taking a step away from Murphy and closer to the courtroom.

“Detective.” Lindsay nods.

“Counselor.” Murphy’s attention is only on her for a heartbeat before he shifts back to me.

“Sorry, I have to go,” I tell him.

“No apologies. I need to head into my office. I’ll text you.”

“O…okay.”

He turns and walks back down the corridor, and I can’t help but drop my attention to the way his dress pants hug his ass like a sports car on a mountain road.

Something tells me you’re not supposed to admire the asses of your friends .

“That is one fine-looking man. Is he single?” Lindsay whispers, opening the door to the courtroom.

I shrug. He was at the wedding.

“I’m pretty sure he is.” Otherwise, how would his girlfriend feel about him inviting me to play pool?

“Even better,” she says with a wink.

A possessiveness builds in my chest, and I want to stomp my foot and tell her no. He’s mine. But he isn’t.

He’s a friend. Not my boyfriend.

With a glance at her watch, Lindsay slides a professional mask into place. “Ready?”

I take another drink of my coffee. I wish I could shift into professional mode as fast as she just did.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Only as much as I try to pay attention, I can’t help but replay my conversation with Murphy earlier. Are we friends now? Can we be? The awkwardness from the kiss is gone. Even if the attraction is still there. At least on my part.

But I can ignore that. I’ve been attracted to other guys without acting on it.

Ever been friends with one you found as attractive as Murphy?

But that question isn’t fair. Murphy isn’t the same caliber as most of the frat boys I had been exposed to in college.

The attorneys at the office and the ones I run into in the courthouse aren’t much better.

And there is a strict no-fraternization policy with other members of the public defender’s office.

None of your other “friends” create a four-alarm fire in your body like the chemistry you have with Murphy .

Doesn’t matter. It can’t. I can ignore it.

Whatever you say .

Luckily, my lack of attention isn’t noticeable to anyone but me. The preliminary hearing full of different motions is through relatively quickly and I am familiar with the different requests, having helped Lindsay prep the motions.

While she heads to another meeting, I go back to the office. By the time I get back, I’ve lost count of how many times I waffle back and forth.

Murphy is my friend. We’re not friends. We cannot possibly be friends and I keep my sanity.

And for now I’m leaning firmly in the friends camp.

I don’t care what people say. Guys and girls can be friends with each other. Sydney is friends with Cole and her boss, Sawyer. Hannah Grace had been friends with Zach. Although theirs was not the healthiest example to look at.

I’m sure there are others if I think about them.

Does my budding friendship with Charlie count?

Turning the corner into my cubicle, I set my bag down when my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Leigh. It’s JoAnna. Kenneth was wondering if you had a few minutes. He had something he wanted to talk to you about.” JoAnna is Kenneth’s paralegal and also the middle-aged woman who on-boarded all the interns when we first started.

But why does Lindsay’s boss want to meet with me? I’ve been assigned to Lindsay since I started and had no interaction with Kenneth until now.

“Did he say what about?” I ask, curious.

She clucks her tongue. “I’m sorry, he didn’t.”

I think about having her ask. But can I?

Can you really turn down the request?

“Okay. I’ll be right there.”

Kenneth’s office is on the opposite side of the building next to Chief Bailey’s office, and nerves jump in my belly as I make my way from my work area to the other side of the building. Have I done something wrong?

JoAnna gives me a soft smile as I approach her desk. The blue tunic-style top she’s wearing highlights her blue eyes, her copper-red hair styled and shellacked with the hairspray still lingering in the air around her.

“Go on in, honey. He’s expecting you.” Her words are gentle, encouraging, like she can spot the tornado of emotions on my face.

Taking a deep breath, I release it, then return her smile with a shaky one of my own.

“Thanks.”

With a step toward the door, I twist the handle and walk in, hovering in the doorway while he wraps up a phone call.

Lindsay and Kenneth’s polar-opposite personalities are reflected in the decor of their offices.

Lindsay’s reflects a warm, inviting environment.

Kenneth’s is all dark, heavy wood. Intimidating.

Does he mean to do that?

His wide desk takes up one end of the room, with a table and three chairs located closest to the door. In between the two formal setups is a less formal seating area, a couch and chair in cream leather occupying the space between the two.

“Ahh, Leigh. Thank you for coming to see me. Why don’t we have a seat?” He walks out from behind the desk, gesturing to the couch and chair.

His dress shirt and pants have sharp lines ironed into them, not a wrinkle daring to make an appearance. His blue eyes are sharp, belying the wide smile, and there’s not a hair out of place on his head. He reminds me of what Barbie’s boyfriend would look like if he was older.

Maybe the hairspray scenting the air was his, not JoAnna’s, and I have to suck my lips into my mouth to hide my smile.

He’s still standing, gesturing to the small seating area, and I take the chair while he sits in the corner of the couch closest to me, leaning forward, his elbows splayed on his knees.

“JoAnna said you wanted to talk to me?” I ask.

“I did. I wanted to give you the good news. William approved the Wrongful Conviction Fund. We’re able to get started on it next week.”

“We?” I had figured since Kenneth didn’t take the meeting that Lindsay would be overseeing the project.

“Lindsay’s plate is overly full right now. William wants me to handle it to ensure the project gets the attention it deserves.”

There’s an undercurrent in the condescending way he says that, creating a defensiveness that has me biting back the comment forming on the tip of my tongue in support of my boss. But there’s a power play and I have nothing I can say to the second in charge of the public defender’s office.

Right?

“Oh.” I want to say so much more, but hold myself quiet.

Anger courses through my blood, but so does sadness. I had been excited to work on a project like that. Had hoped I would get the chance because I knew how good it would look for my application with Project Justice. I slouch, unable to hide my disappointment.

“I was actually hoping you’d be willing to work on the team I’m putting together for the project. Seeing as how you met with the Vanderweels and their attorney when they came in.”

“Really?” I lift my gaze to his face and wish I hadn’t.

There’s something more there than just the professional conversation we’re having, and a pit forms in my stomach. He’s not asking me because I was in the meeting.

There’s a glittering in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

One almost…predatory. Like a snake trying to catch prey.

Ew.

Fuck.

I want to be wrong. I want this to just be me misunderstanding the situation. But after Zach, I honed my intuition. And the vibes Kenneth is giving off are reminiscent of the five-alarm blares of the drunkest frat boys at parties I attended with my sorority sisters.

“I’ve noticed you, Leigh. You have a bright future ahead of you.

I know you’re still in law school, but what are your plans after you graduate?

” He leans back in his chair, crossing his foot over his knee.

The charcoal pants strain at the seams, the dark blue shirt making his eyes bluer.

But instead of warmth, they chill me to the bone.

“I…I haven’t decided yet,” I say, crossing my legs at the ankle as tension starts to lock my joints.

There’s a power disadvantage here. One I’m at the losing end of.

I want to get up and walk away, but what will that mean for my internship if I do?

“You’re at Tennessee, right? A Volunteer?”

Surprise ripples through me, followed swiftly by unease. How does he know where I go to school? Had Lindsay shared that with him?

“Did you go there too?” I ask.

He laughs, but the sound isn’t genuine.

“Roll Tide.” He shifts forward again.

I lean back, more to the opposite side of the chair, trying to put more distance between us and to turn the conversation to something more superficial than my career.