Page 35 of Overruled

The crowd only begins to thin when I manage to wander past the ballroom and the foyer and the other open spaces all gated off for the party, slipping into the darker rooms beyond to explore.

I don’t foresee Alexander leaving his guests for even a minute, not when there’s palms to be greased, so I assume that I’m relatively safe to snoop around.

Beyond the party spaces there is a sitting room that houses a grand piano and an array of expensive-looking art that is as tasteful as it is boring.

Everything about the room feels sterile and cold, if I’m being honest. Nothing that really has me jonesing to hang around.

I pause in the center of the room to slide my heels off, slipping the straps over my finger and letting them dangle at my side as I pad over the shiny wood floors into the next room.

There’s a warm light in this one that comes from a hanging lamp in the corner, and it takes me several seconds of gawking at the wall-to-wall bookshelves before I notice a person tucked away in a plush chair underneath said lamp, holding an open book.

“Oh,” I startle, no doubt looking guilty. “I’m sorry, I was just—”

The woman’s mouth tilts in a soft smile, one that looks genuine and amused. “Bored of the party?”

“I…” She’s still smiling, and her brow quirks in a conciliatory way. I puff out a breath, shrugging. “To tears, honestly.”

She chuckles quietly, the sound musical. I take her in then—her golden hair and her warm skin—but it isn’t until I notice the viridescent glow of her eyes in the lamplight that realization dawns on me.

“Are you Ezra’s mother?”

She only looks surprised for a moment, her brow knitting together and her lips pursing before she gives me a slow nod. “I am. And you are…?”

“Oh, sorry, I…” I’m all too aware I’m standing barefoot in a room I’m not supposed to be in, talking to the mother of the guy I’m seeing.

Or…not seeing. Whatever we’re doing. “I’m Danica Pierce.

I work with your son.” I wrinkle my nose.

“Well, not with him. We work closely together.” Jesus Christ. “We’re at different firms.” I want to die a little. “We’ve crossed paths.”

“Ah.” Her grin is knowing, but what she knows, I can’t begin to say. “I don’t meet many of Ezra’s friends, so it’s a pleasure, Danica.”

“Dani,” I correct. “Most people call me Dani.”

“Dani,” she echoes kindly. “I’m Jackie.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I answer somewhat awkwardly. Should I go? I should, right? “So…” Apparently, I’m not leaving yet. Call it curiosity. I glance around her cozy hideaway; it doesn’t escape me that she’s practically dressed for bed, not a charity gala. “Did you also get tired of the party?”

“Not exactly.” She closes her book, letting it rest in her lap. “I don’t really attend these functions anymore. Not for a long time.”

“Lucky,” I snort. “How did you manage that?”

She’s still smiling when she turns her head toward her lap, but it feels less bright now. “Well, you know. We just agreed it was better that I not participate.”

We?

I want to ask for clarification—I am a lawyer, after all—but something about the way she says it gives me pause.

Like it’s painful, something as simple as not attending a party.

It makes me realize just how little I know about Ezra outside of what we do behind closed doors. The guilt that sets off is strange.

“So, you said you’ve worked with my son?” She blessedly changes the subject. “If you’re from another firm, does that mean you’ve been opposing counsel?”

“Oh, several times.”

I must not do as good a job as I think schooling my features into something other than exasperation, because Jackie chuckles. “He can be trouble, can’t he?”

Trouble.

If she only knew.

“That’s one word for him,” I mutter. I shoot her an apologetic glance. “No offense.”

“He’s a good boy,” she tells me with affection in her voice. “He’s just got a lot on his shoulders.”

My mouth practically itches to ask for more on that, but I know that if Ezra finds out I was pumping his mother for information about him, I’ll never live it down.

“He’s a good lawyer,” I feel the need to tell her. “Definitely giving me a run for my money in our current case.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh! Dani! You’re his opposing counsel on Lorenzo and Bianca’s divorce, aren’t you?”

“Yes?” I clear my throat of the question there. “I am.”

“He spoke of you,” she says, her eyes glittering.

The way my voice hitches is embarrassing. “He did?”

“He did,” she laughs softly. “Said you’re the only person he doesn’t mind losing to.”

My breath catches, and I can only hope she doesn’t hear it. Why does knowing Ezra spoke to his mother about me make my chest feel tight? Part of me thinks I know the answer to that, but a larger part of me doesn’t want to dig too deep.

“Well…I don’t win too often,” I admit.

Jackie just laughs again. “I know how stubborn my son is. Winning against him at all is a feat.”

“Right.” My lips curl, but there’s an uneasiness in my stomach. Not from talking to her, but from what her words are making me feel. I avert my gaze, pointing lamely toward the door to the library. “I’d better go and find my friends. They’ll be looking for me.”

“Have fun out there,” she calls after me. I turn my head to catch her wrinkled nose. “If you can manage it.”

I laugh out loud, nodding. “I’ll do my best.”

I have to pause by the huge piano to put my shoes back on; I’m assuming it wouldn’t be a good look to stumble back into Alexander’s swanky party barefoot, and by the time I’m reaching the well-lit areas where voices are drifting from, I’m mostly ready to reenter the fray.

Mostly. I guess it depends on how much longer Ezra is occupied.

Not that I’m waiting for him to find me. It’s just that staying here while the person who invited me is too tied up to socialize seems silly. That’s all it is.

If I repeat it enough, I might start to believe it.

I can see Vera and Nate looking for me from across the ballroom when I step back inside, and I lift my hand over my head in a half wave to get their attention.

The pair of them start to slip through groups of people talking to meet me, and it isn’t until I see Vera skid to a halt, her mouth parting slightly with what appears to be shock, that I stop walking toward them.

I watch Nate cock his head in confusion at her stunned expression before turning my way, his eyes shifting just over my shoulder to something I can’t see.

I’m about to turn and see what they’re looking at when I hear him.

“Dani?”

I go still, feeling every muscle of my body lock up tight. I haven’t heard that voice in years. In fact, the last time I heard it, it was breaking my fucking heart.

I turn slowly, half hoping I’m mistaken even though I know I’m not, that he’s here —however unlikely that should be.

He looks the same after all these years, his hair the color of chocolate, perfectly parted to one side, his lean form still tall enough to make me look up at him, his deep brown eyes still holding a smile that never seems to go away, one that makes you want to trust him, however foolishly.

I stand there in a stupor for far too many moments as I take in his tight smile that seems awkward, as I notice the blond woman clinging to his arm and looking at me with curious eyes. I almost choke on his name the first time, feeling it stuck in my throat for several seconds before—

“Grant?”