Page 15 of Barristers & Bones
“You ready to go home?”
She pulled the headphones off. “Pardon?”
“Are you ready to go?” I asked again slowly.
“Yes.” She looked down at whatever she’d been reading, then back at me, as if she needed a minute to shift gears. I wondered idly if Luna had sensory overload issues or tunnel concentration, like my law partner Xander did. She packed her things, and I took her back to the mortuary.
She turned to me. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. What time do you want me to be there?”
I smirked. “Nice try. I’m picking you up at eight again.”
We got out, and Luna sighed loudly. “You don’t need to pick me up or walk me to the apartment.”
“But I want to.” I followed Luna to her door, and she turned to me.
“Bye.”
“May I use your bathroom?”
She studied me. “Are you messing with me right now?”
“A little.” I waited her out.
She narrowed her eyes and put her code in. When we walked inside, she bent down and scooped up her three-legged cat, who waited at the door and meowed impatiently. “Hello, Carl. Did you miss me?” The cat had an unpleasant, grinding purr and seemed to barely tolerate her. And who named a catCarl, for fuck’s sake?
“What happened to his leg?”
“We don’t know. He kind of adopted us. Ezra thinks he followed his late owner to the mortuary, and when the man was cremated Carl decided we’d have to do. The bathroom is down the hall.” She put Carl down, and he looked up at me suspiciously, then started licking himself.
Luna smirked. “See? He likes you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And that’s how he shows it, by licking his nonexistent balls? Why is he named Carl?”
“I named him after a character from the book seriesDungeon Crawler Carl. You probably wouldn’t like it, you’re too pretentious and stuck up.”
I arched an eyebrow and made a mental note to look up the series as she pointed down the hall. She’d thrown a good dozen insults at me today, but I didn’t mind. If she knew what I planned to do with her, she'd do more than just insult me.
“The bathroom is the second door on the left.”
As I walked down the hall, I studied the apartment. The first door I passed was closed, but the next one stood open. The room was neat, and an overstuffed bookshelf stood against one wall, crammed with books and a few personal items. Based on all the books, this was probably Luna’s room.
It wasn’t like most women’s bedrooms I’d seen. There weren’t feminine knickknacks or clothes strewn around, or an overpowering smell of perfumes and lotions. It was all about comfort and books. I tried to see if they had any security as I walked back into the kitchen, where a tall blond woman stood next to Alexa at the bar. All three of them were beautiful, but Luna was the one I wanted to fuck.
She pointed to her friend. “This is Sylvie Spade. Her family owns the mortuary.”
Sylvie quirked her mouth. “Roman Fowler, of FUCK, Legal. So you’re the jackass who ruined Luna’s internship plans and our fall vacation. I know one of your partners. Are you as big of an asshole as he is?”
Luna didn’t try to shut Sylvie up. Her friend didn’t mince words, and she was protective of Luna. Good to know. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Spade. Tell your grandfather and cousins I said hello.” I nodded at Alexa and turned to Luna. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eight sharp. Don’t stay up so late tonight.”
Walking out, I cracked my knuckles as I strode to my car. Ever since I’d glimpsed Luna’s flushed, animated face as she talked with Gideon last Friday, I’d been obsessed with her. She disliked the country club, ate without embarrassment when she was hungry, and had been fascinated by Euphoria. It would be a pleasure to spar and debate with her before I eventually had to break her.
When I walked into the office twenty minutes later, the partners were gathered around my oversized desk, already drinking my liquor and playing with my coin collection. We met like this at least once a week after hours to decompress and catch up. Sometimes we sparred at the boxing gym a few blocks away, or met up on the weekends to watch a game or shoot the shit.
Drakos glanced up when I strode in, still wearing his suit jacket and silk tie. “How’s the new intern, mentee, whatever-the-fuck she is?”
“Better than expected. I think you’ve heard that she’s Montgomery Cross’s daughter. Klim changed her mentorship at the last minute and sent her to me.” I smirked evilly and poured myself a drink. “Then she tried to weasel her way out of it.”
Ivan shook his head and folded his muscled, tattooed arms. “So, of course, you didn’t let her, being the contrary jackass you are. That would’ve been like waving a fucking red cape at you. I still need to do a background check on her.” He wore faded jeans and black biker boots and was our expert hacker. Ivan had his law degree, but he hated being an attorney and was a savant with computers, so he did whatever the hell he wanted to, including our security and investigations.
