Breaching the Contract(38)

By: Chantal Fernando


“There’s no question it’ll get messy,” I tell him. “But it’s a challenge. . . .”

I know that shouldn’t be the basis on which I accept a case, but damn, I like to be kept on my toes. I like to push myself, test myself. I like seeing how far I can bend the law in my client’s favor.

“You do enjoy a good challenge,” Tristan murmurs, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ll handle the bail hearing. It’ll give you time to look at the case and see if you’re ready. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.”

“I guess you will,” I say, and then tell him good-bye.

I look back at the photo, my chest suddenly getting tight. I don’t have it in me to put the photo away or cover it, but every time I look at it, it hurts.

It physically hurts.

I absently rub my chest and stand, then head into my bathroom to have a quick shower, knowing I have to go to the office to do some reading. Once I’m ready, I glance around, looking for my keys. I keep my gaze down, making sure not to look in the direction of the photo. I find them next to my wallet on the kitchen counter, grab both of them and head outside to my car.

I don’t need any more time off.

I have a prospective client to meet.