A sign on their right with an arrow pointed to a trail that led to an even steeper path with the words,Waterfall .5 miles.
“Do you want to try that?” Luke asked, a glint in his eyes.
Dahlia’s competitive nature wouldn’t let her say no. They climbed quickly, coming to steps attached to the stone face.
“Does that say one hundred stairs?” Dahlia gaped, horrified.
“What? Worried you can’t do it?” Luke began jogging up the steps.
“I think there might actually be something wrong with you,” she called after him. “Some of us have to wear high heels. I’m not sacrificing my knees for this!” Dahlia began climbing behind him—slowly.
Luke stopped halfway up to wait for her. “You win. Not my smartest idea. I’m not twenty anymore.”
Dahlia laughed. With all the energy and exuberance Luke radiated just existing, she couldn’t imagine him as a young, brash twenty-year-old.
Thankfully, the climb wasn’t as bad as she expected. When they reached the top, they folded their arms on the safety fence and looked down to where the waterfall crashed beneath them.
“This is incredible! I didn’t realize all of this existed an hour from Atlanta.” Dahlia shook her head in amazement. “I’ve lived here off and on for over a year, but other than location shoots, I’m not sure I’ve gone more than five miles from Buckhead.”
“I forget this is here, too. It’s like we were talking about last night. I’ve been so wrapped up with work, trying to be the best. I guess I just… forget.”
Dahlia remembered what he’d said about his father considering him a disappointment. Most parents would be thrilled to have a lawyer in the family. “What made you want to go into criminal defense instead of a cushy, corporate job?”
Luke’s bangs had fallen forward over his forehead, and he pushed them back with an exhale. “It pays well,” he said with a disarming grin.
Dahlia shook her head slowly. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Every time something gets serious, you make a joke or laugh it away.”
Luke’s lips parted and his gaze bounced between her eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, but only because I need a longer breather.” Dahlia arched a brow at the joke, and Luke sighed. “It’s not a noble reason, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“I’m curious… We’re becoming friends, right?” Her heart caught and didn’t start beating again until he gave a slight nod, his eyes on her instead of the view. “I want to know more about you.”
Luke blew out his breath and pivoted so that he faced away from her. “When I was in law school, it was my turn to be my father’s golden child. He was fighting with Declan about his Irish family and what David Bloom liked to callpriorities.
“Long story,” he said, when Dahlia opened her mouth to ask. “My father considered the law the perfect profession for both James and me. He was convinced one of us would become a state senator or something. He might still get his way with James,” Luke mused, as if the thought had just struck him.
“But when James abruptly ran off to the military, my father decided I should become a prosecutor. James was always the one he wanted, but with him gone, I was all he had left.”
Dahlia’s brow furrowed. “But that wasn’t what you wanted?”
“I cared little either way. I told you it’s not a noble story.” His tongue pushed against his lip. “One night, a group of us went out drinking in Athens. It’s a college town, so intoxicated students aren’t that unusual. But we were rowdier than normal. We’d just won a playoff game against a rival football team. Everyone was amped.”
His mouth twisted at the memory. “It was late, and we were waiting for a ride, when a group of guys came by wearing the other team’s gear. They were looking for a fight because who does that—stay late at the local bars after losing a rivalry game? Anyway, words were exchanged, we started fighting, and the police came.
“It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but one guy from the other school needed stitches after hitting his head on a brick building. We were all arrested, but an hour later, the Chief of Police walked in and told me I could leave. I was thrilled. I’d never been in trouble before, and trust me, the drunk tank is a nasty, gross place to be.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“The next day, I woke up with a killer hangover but nothing else. On Monday, I found out that one of my friends who was there, but not actually part of the fight, had been charged with aggravated assault. A pretty serious charge that could end his law career before it started. He didn’t have money for a lawyer, and frankly, it never occurred to any of us that night that we should ask for one.” He shook his head in disgust.
“Apparently, when the police questioned him—still sick and hungover—he told them what they wanted to hear, thinking they’d let him go home. Because the copstoldhim that was what would happen,” Luke said in a hard voice. “The aggravated assault was because of the stitches. The guyIhad punched. But because of my family’s money and power, I wouldn’t be held responsible.
“Instead, my friend was going to pay the price because he didn’t have a lawyer telling him to shut the hell up. I told my father if he didn’t help my friend, then I would confess.
“I’d heard my mom rail against the justice system for years, but I never paid much attention until I saw it in action myself. The law was being applied unfairly, and I couldn’t be part of that by becoming a prosecutor.”