The only time the kitchen was ever used for its intended purpose beyond rudimentary sandwiches or coffee was when Ros’s boyfriend, Jonathan, was there to cook.
The only drawback was the lack of central air-conditioning, but A/C was needed only during the worst of summer anyway. More often than not, they spent their days at the well-cooled office and at night, window fans sufficed.
Because of the size, the rent was high, but between the two of them, they’d deemed it worth the financial stretch.
Now, Nell flipped on the shower to get it hot and plugged in her phone to charge the battery while she listened to all of the messages that had piled up overnight.
The first few were birthday wishes. But the tone of the messages began to change quickly enough from celebration to shock. Commiseration.
None of them, however, was from Ros.
Nell debated sending her a text, but set aside her phone instead. She brushed her teeth—twice—then showered until the hot water started to run cold.
Then, wrapped in a towel, she checked her phone again. Another half-dozen messages had arrived. Word was definitely getting around that she was out at Pastore Legal.
It was too depressing to respond to any of them so she turned off her phone altogether. Her head still pounded, but she felt somewhat more human. Mopping at her dripping hair with another towel, she went back downstairs and into the kitchen. Coffee was the next order of business. And maybe some food. She had time on her hands now. She could buy a cookbook. Learn to make something besides a grilled cheese sandwich.
Her gaze fell on the plastic-wrapped loaf of bread.
He’d fixed her toast.
She snatched open the cupboard door to grab a coffee pod and shoved it into place, jabbing viciously at the button to start the brewer.
Had Archer heard the news yet?
She could just imagine what he’d have to say if he had.
“Should have taken me up on my offer,” she muttered aloud as the coffee burbled out of the spout and into her bright yellow mug with Lawyers have feelings too printed on one side, Allegedly printed on the other. “Then you’d be partners in a multioffice firm instead of out on your behind.”
She shook the thought out of her head. Nearly finished with law school, she’d believed it would be disastrous going into practice with Archer Templeton. Her allegiance had been to Martin Pastore. Becoming a junior associate there was her dream come true.
The coffee had barely stopped dripping when she yanked it out from beneath the spout. She followed the splash of cream she added with a chaser of sugar—the real stuff—and finally took a sip. It scorched her tongue, but in seconds she could feel the blessed caffeine hitting her system.
She aligned the loaf of bread neatly next to the side of the stainless steel refrigerator and carried her coffee out of the kitchen just in time to hear the rattle of the door lock.
Ros was home.
Nell’s stomach churned. She tightened the knotted towel and perched on the narrow arm of the white leather couch.
A moment later, the door swung inward and Rosalind, who looked only slightly better than Nell felt, entered.
Her eyes skated over Nell. “You’re here.”
“I live here,” she said quietly. “My leaving your father’s firm doesn’t change that.”
Ros’s lips thinned. She elbowed the door closed and tossed her keys into the stylized bowl sitting on the table next to Nell’s purse. “Maybe it should.”
Nell’s breath left her in a puff. “Ros, come on.”
“Why? You accused my father of collusion!” Rosalind spread her arms. “The very idea is so ridiculous it’s pathetic.”
Nell’s fingers tightened around her coffee mug. “And as little as a week ago, I’d have agreed with you,” she said quietly. “But I saw the records with my own eyes. While he was supposed to be acting on behalf of the court in a probate matter up in Weaver, he was taking money to influence the outcome of the case!” A whole lot of money, as it turned out.
“Well, the outcome wasn’t influenced,” Ros said flatly. “Instead of dying intestate like everyone thought, Otis Lambert did leave a will and when it came to light that was that. He left everything but his ranch on that mountain he owned to the state of Wyoming and instructed the ranch itself to be sold off. End of story.”
“That doesn’t erase what your father tried to do before the will was discovered! He was taking bribes, Ros!”
Her roommate’s expression was set. “We’re not going to agree about this, Nell. My father would never behave unethically. His reputation is impeccable.”
Nell’s hands were shaking. She set aside her coffee cup. “I didn’t want to believe it, either. There’s no way I’m mistaken.” She was also badly afraid this instance hadn’t been Martin’s only transgression, despite his impeccable reputation. He’d been too blasé when she confronted him.
“He showed me the bank account, Nell. It’s your name that is on it. Not his.”
Nell swallowed hard. She was a lawyer. She knew better than to sign anything she hadn’t read. But the amount of paperwork that flowed through Martin’s office was staggering. And she’d trusted him. A note left here or there for her to initial, to sign... She hadn’t thought a thing about it. “He put it there.”
Ros’s expression turned pitying. “If this is about me making partner and you not—”
Nell stood. “This isn’t about becoming a partner! For God’s sake, Ros, you’re my oldest friend. You’re like a sister to me.”
“And my father was like a father to you. Only he wasn’t. You had your own, except he ran out on you when you were sixteen. And my father took you in!” Ros raked her fingers through her hair. It was just as dark as Nell’s
