Page 26 of Sugar

In bold.

With a few underlines for good measure.

Los Angeles real estate was as insane as the city itself. Following the navigation’s directions, I’d gone down one-way streets of nothing but dilapidated buildings before turning to be surrounded by million-dollar houses. Another few minutes, and the pattern repeated. Million-dollar condos filled high-rises that stood down the street from tourist traps and sightseer buses that promised a glimpse at the stars.

Located outside of the busy downtown, Wells Law was firmly situated in the ritzy area. It wasn’t in the tallest building. Infact, it was the shortest on the block. But the classy signage on the brick building wasn’t for multiple businesses occupying the space. It was only his firm’s name in elegant writing above the entrance.

I’d parked in a pricey lot down the street that I’d assumed was as close as I was going to get, but as I approached, I saw I was wrong. Situated between his building and the high rise next to it was a parking lot. It was easy to miss since tall greenery blocked everything but the entrance and exit. From my angle, I was able to see the little booth thingy complete with an attendant in it.

It might be more convenient, but I bet that lot requires a credit check to use.

I continued by, pausing for a second right before I reached the door to check my bag, my clothes, and my breath.

I had my supplies.

My clothes—wide-leg gray pants and a plain fitted blue top—were in order and without any stains, wrinkles, or lint.

My breath was minty fresh.

I was good to go.

Anticipation bubbled through me as I walked inside.

And was immediately stopped by a suited man in the entryway between two heavy doors. Agiantsuited man who was intimidating with big bouncer-at-an-exclusive-club energy.

Despite that, his smile was warm and friendly as he looked up from an iPad. “Good evening. Name?”

“Madeline Baker.”

He tapped the screen, and a loud click echoed around us before the second door swung open. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, you too,” I muttered, surprised by the level of security.

I walked into the spacious waiting area, my steps slow as I took it all in. And there was a lot to take in. The interior walls matched the exterior brick, but with the addition of dark wood floors and exposed beams on the high ceilings. It could’ve felt cold and cavernous, but it didn’t. It looked cool and modern—like a converted industrial space that could hold amazing parties or exclusive culinary pop-ups. A glowing sign of Wells Law warmed the brick wall next to a pretty water feature that added a calming white noise.

“Madeline?”

I looked up as an older woman came down the hall to stop at the built-in wooden desk that jutted out from the wall.

“Yes,” I answered.

Her friendly smile grew. “Hi, we spoke earlier. I’m June. Mr. Wells is wrapping up a phone call and will be right with you. Have a seat.”

I was tempted to question her for any info on her mysterious boss, but that would be a shitty move. At best, I would make it awkward. At worst, I could put her job at risk.

I wasn’t the level of ruthless that would burn the world for a good story. At least not for my college paper.

I returned her smile. “Thank you.”

Taking a lap around the room, I paused to read the labels under the art pieces that seemed to be on consignment fromlocal artists. Interspersed between them were a handful of shiny awards hanging on the wall and lining a ledge.

“Make sure you ask him about those,” June put in from her spot at the desk. “He hates that I insist on displaying them. His ears get all red.”

“Thanks for the scoop,” I said, mentally adding the question to my list.

I continued on until I reached the waterfall. I looked down into the rock basin and bit back a delighted squeal.

A handful of fish zipped around the water. They weren’t the usual koi I would expect to see in such a polished setup. Small and brightly colored, they looked almost comical in such a large space.