Page 25 of Barristers & Bones

“How’d you get an internship with them, anyway? I thought you had something lined up with a water law attorney.”

“I did, but Klim Hudson assigned me to Fowler instead. I’m there under protest.”

He shook his head. “You need to be careful. I’ve heard Fowler and his partners are basically a crime syndicate, and they don’t mind getting their hands dirty.”

“It sounds like someone's been watching too much late-night reality TV.” I’d grown up with the Spade family, so I wasn’t as freaked out as I probably should have been, and neither The Firm nor the House of Spades seemed to leave a trail of broken victims like my father did.

Jared leaned forward. “Around Vegas, there really are dead bodies buried out in the desert–or dumped in Lake Mead. Just be careful.”

“It's good then that I'm just a lowly law student intern. What are the rumors anyway?” I broke down and asked.

“Besides the legal but morally gray shit? Bribery, blackmail, greasing palms.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Probably money laundering too.”

I scoffed. “You’re describing half the successful white-collar businesses around here.”

“Look, Luna.” His voice dropped. “I'm not saying Roman's firm is the mob, but they've got that same untouchable vibe. People get in the way or mess with their interests, and they end up like Schrödinger's cat—neither alive nor dead until someone opens the box.”

“Except nobody wants to open the box,” I concluded, my skepticism showing.

“Exactly.” Jared nodded, as if pleased I was following along.

He might be a shmuck, but he wasn’t stupid. Too bad he had such a shitty personality. “I'll avoid poking around. And like I said, I don’t plan to go back, anyway.” Even as I said it, I wondered if I had a choice.

“That’d be smart.” He pushed away from the table and stood, his chair scraping against the floor.

I put my headphones on and turned back to my homework. Jared was a bit of a conspiracy theorist, and he hadn’t told me anything I didn’t already suspect. Shaking off his warnings, I got to work.

Hours later, my mind felt tired, and my eyes stung. It was time to quit. When I snapped my book shut, the thud echoed in the near-empty library.

Turning my phone on, I winced as notifications started pinging.

Roman: Ivan said you stormed out of the office. Don’t leave again without checking in

He could go screw himself if he thought I’d be checking in with him when his partners were being pricks.

Roman: Are you returning today, or will you continue sulking for the rest of the afternoon?

Roman: It’s after five. You owe me hours. I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning

“Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered under my breath. My fingers flew across the screen as I typed out a response.

Luna: Can’t. Tomorrow’s Saturday

He texted back almost immediately.

Roman: Non-negotiable

Me: Fill in the acronym to your law firm here, and add a “YOU” at the end

He didn't respond. I shoved my things into my bag with less care than usual. Carl would be waiting for dinner, and Ezra had texted about binge-watching some TV together. Both seemed like heaven compared to the hell of dealing with Roman Fowler and his stupid partners.

Dusk had fallen, and I wondered if I could make it to my car before it got too dark. I pulled my car keys out and muttered to myself as I walked out of the library. “Stubborn, pushy asshole.”

“Talking to yourself now?” a voice murmured to my right.

Jumping, I yelped and held up the keys I’d laced between my fingers. Roman leaned against a pillar outside the law library with his arms crossed.

“What in God’s name are you doing, lurking outside the library? Jesus Christ, man. You scared the hell out of me.”

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