Page 8 of Barristers & Bones

Sylvie nodded her head toward me. “You probably got distracted trying to learn about what types of law they practice.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alexa leaned over and looked at my screen. “You’re reading about commercial real estate legal terms.”

Sylvie flipped her computer around. “So I took the fun route, trolling through the local gossip and social sites. Here’s a blogger who posted about the ‘hottest attorneys’ in Las Vegas, and every partner in that firm is listed. Look at the photos she included.” The blogger wasn’t wrong, and I inwardly sighed.

Except for the Spade cousins, it seemed like good-looking men were usually colossal assholes. So far, Roman had proven my theory correct. "This isn't making me feel any better about the internship."

Sylvie kept scrolling through the site. “It says they’re well known in the legal community and give to charities. It also looks like some of them are serial daters.”

I looked over her shoulder at the collage of photos the author had included and snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

We continued digging for a few minutes when Alexa hummed. “They’re from all over the United States, which made me wonder how they met. At least two–and probably all of them–were sent to that horrific boys’ ranch in Arizona as teenagers.” She glanced at me. “Your home state. Do you remember that news story?”

My stomach dropped. “The one that made national news about fifteen years ago?”

Alexa pointed to her screen. “Yes. Bitter Creek Ranch Academy. There were serious allegations of abuse and torture, and several boys went missing and were never found.” She raised her eyebrows as her fingers flew over her keyboard. “Someone has worked hard to bury the fact that those men were there as teenagers. They did a decent job.”

My heart squeezed with unwanted sympathy. “I was just a kid, but I remember it well. That place was evil. God, those news stories gave me nightmares.”

Sylvie sat back. “The Vegas Legal blog has an extensive article about the partners. Several of them still practice law, but their business interests are where most of the money comes from. That, and family inheritances.”

Her phone buzzed, and she read the text. “That’s Ezra. They’re wrapping up.”

We shut down our computers and got back to work. As we helped Ezra carefully load the casket into the back of the sleek gray Cadillac mortuary hearse, I brooded about what Monday would bring. The thought of spending a week under Roman Fowler’s thumb made the hairs on my arms rise.

Chapter 3

Luna

On Monday morning at two minutes to eight, the apartment doorbell buzzed, the flat sound vibrating through me. I checked the peephole and stared at Roman Fowler in another expensive suit, standing on the front stoop.

Alexa sat at the kitchen bar, eyeing me carefully. “Are you going to be okay with him?”

“Yes. Somehow, I convinced myself he wouldn’t show up, and have been holding out a vain hope that he changed his mind or would get too busy.” No such luck. I opened the door and stared up at him. He stood there, tall and domineering, then stepped around me and strode into the living room.

“Good morning.” His voice was a low rumble as his dark eyes swept over me and the apartment. He took in the scattered law books on the coffee table and Alexa sitting at the kitchen counter. Carl eyed him warily from the back of the couch, his tail twitching.

“How do you know where I live?” I asked.

“Gideon must have gotten your address from the law school. Imagine my surprise when I pulled up to the Spade family mortuary.”

“You’re lying. Even the school doesn’t have my physical address.”

His lip twitched, but he didn’t elaborate.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” I turned to Alexa. “This is Roman Fowler. My roommate, Alexa Torres. Sylvie Spade is our other roommate. She’s at the mortuary already.”

Roman nodded to her. “Alexa, nice to meet you.”

I grabbed my backpack, which held essentials in case I got stuck with him all day. That thought had me pausing, and I turned around and dug through a kitchen cupboard, pulling out a box of Red Hot cinnamon candy and a bag of cinnamon bears.

Alexa stared at him, unblinking. “Hello.” Then she noticed what I was double-fisting. “Do you think it’s going to be that bad?”

I glanced at Roman and nodded.

“Are you ready?” he asked, checking his expensive watch.

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