Page 295 of Kentrell

They took my bag. Scanned my shoes. Made me sign the visitor log.

Then I waited.

The minutes dragged. My nerves built with every name they called that wasn’t mine. I kept going over what I’d say to her. How I’d introduce myself. How much to reveal and how much to hold back.

“Miss Davis,” the guard finally called. “Miss Johnson is ready.”

My throat went dry as I nodded, following them down the long hallways to the lawyer rooms. Private and protected—for both the client and the attorney. And Whitmore had money. Privileges. State-of-the-art equipment. So I wasn’t surprised when we entered a small but nicely furnished sitting area, complete with a water dispenser and two couches arranged for conversation.

I settled on the right-side couch with my back to the door. I didn’t want my face to be the first thing Jellybean saw. My nerves were already working overtime. Hearing the door click, then open, followed by the soft hiss as it closed behind her, let me know she’d arrived.

“You not Tasha,” she said before she even reached me.

Her voice caught me off guard. Strong but feminine. Slightly raspy with a hint of attitude that felt earned, not forced.

“Uh, yeah… I’m Attorney Davis,” I said, standing and turning to face her. “I’ve been partnering with Attorney Williams on your case.” I extended my hand for a shake, hoping to keep this professional.

She didn’t look down at it. Didn’t lift a single finger to meet me halfway. Her eyes stayed glued to my face, bottom lip slightly parted like she was seeing something she wasn’t ready for.

I stayed polite at first, giving her space to adjust to a new face. But after a full minute passed and she still hadn’t blinked, I cleared my throat.

Jellybean was nothing like I imagined. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was arresting. Deep, flawless ebony skin. Tight, almond-shaped eyes. Full lips. Even the arch of her brows held that same sharp curve I’d memorized from Kentrell. If I had to guess, the only thing Kentrell got from his father was that squared-off jawline, his nose, and maybe the stubborn set of his chin. But everything else? Every soft and striking feature? That was all Jellybean.

“Please… uh, have a seat,” I said once I realized I’d been staring too long.

She crossed the room, choosing the couch adjacent from mine, and sat down with the same quiet authority I’d seen in Kentrell a hundred times.

“Would you like some water?—”

“No,” she cut me off, still watching me, still unblinking.

“So… you’re replacing her now?” Her tone was cool but not icy. More… measured.

I shook my head, suddenly very aware that my stomach was flipping again. “No. I just… I wanted to meet you.”

“Why?” The single word came out slow, deliberate.

“Excuse me?” The question knocked me off balance.

“Why. Do you. Want to meet me all of a sudden?” She tilted her head, cutting her eyes at me with the same look Kentrell gave me whenever he was studying me… right before he picked me apart, truth by ugly truth.

“You might be a lawyer,” Jellybean continued, crossing one leg over the other and sinking back into the couch cushionslike she had all day to pick me apart. “And you might’ve been helping Tasha on this case…” She paused, licking her lips before narrowing her eyes again. “But you not here for none of that… are you, Miss Zoe.”

My breath caught. My eyes flickered twice their normal size as her mouth slowly curled into a smirk.

“You know who I am?”

“Yes.”

“And you knew I was working on this case before I came?”

“No,” she said flatly. “You just volunteered that information… but uh—thank you.” Her smirk deepened as I nodded, knowing I’d just walked into that one.

“My son spoke about you… recently.” She popped her lips together with a lazy finality as I swallowed hard.

My stomach flipped so hard I had to grip my knees to keep from reaching for the trash can in the corner.

He spoke about me?

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