Page 70 of Velvet Chains

“You probably won’t,” Alek said. “It’s my job to think of every possibility, right?”

“Yeah, I get it,” I said. “I just…I could be disbarred.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “Because you’re the victim of a crime? Are they going to disbar every single public defense lawyer in this county? No, they aren’t.”

“I mean, you’re right…”

He sighed. ““You need to act like the DA, Ruby. Get out in front of this. Make it look like you’re investigating them, not sleeping with them. Control the narrative. Tell people the Callahans are targeting you and mobilize the police.”

“That feels like it could create some surprises. I would rather not do that.”

He moved his head from side-to-side. “I mean, you’re not wrong,” he replied. “Justice moves slow, so there’s that.”

“What does your day look like?” I asked.

He gave me a look. “Less dramatic than yours. Couple of phone consults, an arraignment in Suffolk County, and then I’m getting dinner with a man who thinks we’re still just friends.”

I snorted. “Does he know you’re using him for breadsticks and plausible deniability?”

“I don’t think he’s figured it out yet,” Alek said. “But to be fair, he’s pretty and has no object permanence. So I can ghost him until after Christmas.”

“He sounds wonderful,” I said.

“He’s hot,” Alek replied. “And good in bed. That’s pretty much it. He’s pretty boring. Really, really into cars.”

“Ew. He really into Subarus?”

“Ruby, that’s lesbians,” he said, very seriously.

We both laughed.

“It is gross, though,” he said. “If he stops talking about cars for long enough, I might introduce him to you.”

“Oh, so you really like him.”

He laughed. “I don’t. I really want to like him.”

“That isn’t the same at all.”

“I know. Tell me about it,” he said. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in. I’ll let you work.”

“Okay. Catch you later. Thank you for the coffee.”

He smiled. “Yeah, of course,” he said.

He stepped out of the office and I watched him go.

The rest of my morning was a blur, email after email, phone call after phone call. I barely looked up until noon, when my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten and my assistant poked her head in to ask if I still wanted to keep my lunch with Morales.

“Yes,” I said automatically. “I’ll head down in a few.”

I grabbed my coat and slung my bag over my shoulder, just as the phone on my desk started to ring again. Not my cell. The landline.

Line two. School.

I froze.

I picked it up, heart already stuttering. “This is DA Marquez.”