Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I want to tell him the truth. I don't want him to worry himself to death. "How does the attorney-client thing work?"
"Did you kill someone?" he asks.
"The secrecy part?" I ask.
"Privilege? It means an attorney can't share anything a client tells him as a part of normal attorney-client relations. If you did murder someone, and you hired me to defend you. If you confessed, I couldn't take that to the cops. And the court couldn't compel me to testify either. But I can't suborn perjury. I can't put you on the stand to say you didn't do it."
"Is it just with the courts? Or does it include brothers and sisters?" I ask.
"Ethically speaking, it includes everyone who isn't a part of the team."
"Can the team be you and me?" I ask.
"Of course, Cass, but if you did kill someone, I recommend a different attorney. I won't be objective."
"Do I have to give you a dollar or something?" I ask.
"Did you see that on TV?" He laughs with a levity I don't expect. He laughs the way he did when we were kids, and we shared jokes about Mom and Dad, and Zack and Laurel, and we didn't expect ourselves to have the world figured out. "Sure, yeah." He pulls a bill from his wallet (a hundred, of course) and hands it to me.
I return it and we shake. "The artist, Bryce, wants to work with a couple. So Damon and I are playing a couple. For the job."
"And to make your ex-boyfriend jealous?"
Why does everyone think that's a prime motivation? "That's a fringe benefit."
Jackson raises a brow.
Okay. It's a nice benefit. I admit it. "Yes, I enjoy his envy." At least, in theory. "But it's more that Frederick is competition, and he's not above telling the artist Damon and I are…"
"Competition how?" Bryce asks.
I explain the mechanics of our arrangement as quickly as I can. Hopefully, I don't have to see Frederick for any of this. Most likely, he'll be there at the pitch sessions. There could be one. Or a lot.
"It's just Frederick, on his own?" Jackson asks.
"No." I don't say the words. I don't say we're competing with my ex and the woman he fucked behind my back but they fill the air anyway. I curl into myself.
Jackson frowns. "So you're not sleeping with Damon?"
"Try not to look so happy about it," I say.
He shakes his head no deal. For the first time all night, he smiles.
Which is annoying. I appreciate his desire to protect me, I do, but I'm an adult woman. I'm perfectly capable of making my own dating choices. Even if I have no intention of sleeping with Damon, I'm not letting him think he gets to dictate that. "I might still sleep with him. That's my choice to make. Even if you think it's a mistake."
"And murdering him is my choice to make, even if you think it's a mistake. Wait." He shifts into attorney mode. "There's no privilege if there's a criminal conspiracy."
"Is this a conspiracy?"
"It's arguable."
"Everything is arguable to an attorney," I say.
He laughs an easy, hearty laugh. One I haven't heard in a long time. "I'm worried about you, Cass. You've been struggling with the breakup. You put on a brave face, but I see it."
"Because I live with Mom and Dad. They're insane. Did you know they ask me to eat dinner with them every night?" I ask.
"Dad isn't home in time for dinner every night."
"Mom either! She's working a photography gig half the nights." Mom runs a boudoir photography business. She spent most of her time managing the business when we were young. Once we were old enough and we wanted to spend nights with friends, she added herself into her rotation of photographers. She offers to take portraits of us all the time. And she's talented with those too. But it's weird, knowing she usually takes photos of people wearing way fewer clothes.
"So you're sitting there, alone?"
"Sometimes, yeah. They ask me to text them while I eat!"
Again, my older brother laughs.
"It's not funny. They want pictures of my food! They want to make sure it's a nice, homecooked meal," I say.
"You are a good cook," he says.
"Don't start. I can't take you doing it too," I say.
"You know I won't agree to that. I love you, Cass. I can't stand to see someone hurt you. Especially someone who got a second chance to hurt you." He pulls me into a hug.
I sink into it. For a minute, I'm a kid again, accepting my brother's protection, sure nothing will hurt me as long as Jackson is here to defend me.
But he couldn't save me from falling for Damon once.
And he can't do it again.
That's all on me.
I struggle to fall asleep. I wake drowsy. And then I see it. Not just the likes from friends and colleagues. Not just the other woman's fake I'm happy for you comment.