Page 77 of Velvet Corruption

“I told you that was a wildcard,” I said.

Alek sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“Yeah. You got that right.”

“Frustrating fun, though. O’Hara loves it when I waste his time.”

I laughed. “Can’t imagine why he doesn’t like you.”

We both chuckled, but quickly went silent. I shuffled on my feet, chewing on my lip before clearing my throat.

“Look, Alek…I’ve been a shitty friend. Didn’t want you to deal with a hardass by yourself, too.”

Alek’s expression shifted—just a flicker, just enough. Then he sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“An idiot,” he repeated. “A well-meaning idiot, but still.” Then, as if that settled it, he straightened his tie. “I still need to get you elected.”

I looked at him as a small warmth pressed against my ribs. I ignored it. “Thank you,” I said. “Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon,” he said. “You need food before you keel over. Did you eat before that meeting?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Alek dragged me to a café a block from the courthouse. We got a window booth, the morning light pouring in, the city moving along outside. The smell of real coffee was almost enough to make me forget the swill in O’Hara’s chambers.

Alek ordered for us—which I usually hated—but I let it slide.

As soon as the coffee hit the table, he arched an eyebrow. “That ledger caught Klein off guard.”

I smirked. Added another sugar to my coffee. “I only brought it up to see if he would offer his client up as a witness for a bigger case, but I guess a mobster lawyer wouldn’t.”

Alek nodded. “It wasn’t a bad idea. He seemed a little shaken by it, but only a little.”

I shrugged. “People fake confidence all the time.”

“Not Klein. Not like that.” His gaze flicked to me. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Organized crime shit. Standard.”

Alek studied me for a second longer than I liked. Then he leaned back. “Yeah. Standard. Still, I don’t know how you can shrug it off.”

“I don’t. I’m not,” I said. “I just can’t do anything about it in this case in particular. I’m trying to become DA.”

“Because you’re fueled by the pursuit of justice?”

“No. I’m fueled by spite and subpar courthouse coffee.”

Alek sat back, arms crossed. “Ah. So you’re living on the edge of death.”

“Correct.”

We got our food, and for five blissful minutes, we didn’t talk about court, crime, or the Callahans. We talked about Natalia;she was staying in Boston only a few days before she went to New York City. Turned out the surprise trip was to meet some sort of internet boyfriend. Alek asked about Rosie; whether she was feeling better, if she was staying with Julian for a bit.

And then, as he finished his last sip of coffee. “So…I jumped down your throat this morning. What happened between you and Kieran?”

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