Page 33 of Don’t Fall For A Bodyguard

I nodded. “The address is 214A. I assume that means his office is located above the bar.”

“Kind of a strange place for a lawyer to have an office.”

“Not if all your clients are musicians.”

I got out of the truck and walked around to open Payton’s door. When I offered him my hand, he hesitated, then finally slipped his hand into mine. I was tempted to pull him into my arms and kiss sense into him, but I held back. He was skittish, and I knew that now was not the time for my demanding side.

We headed for the door, and I pressed the buzzer.

“Yes?”

“It’s Lennie and Payton.”

“Come on up.”

The door unlocked, and I reached for it, motioning for Payton to go first. The air inside reminded me of the nightlife around here—the underlying scent of alcohol, sweat, and cigarettes.

We climbed a long set of stairs and reached a landing with another door. 214A. I guess big time lawyers didn’t need to advertise.

I knocked once, and Elias opened the door. I’d never seen the man unkempt, and today was no exception. He was dressed in charcoal trousers, with a pink button-down and a patterned tie. With dark-rimmed glasses and slicked-back hair, he looked like he was ready for Wall Street, never mind Broadway.

“Lennie, Payton, nice to see you,” he greeted us. “Come on in.”

The office turned out to be an apartment with an open floor plan, including a kitchen and living room. Unlike the stairwell, this place was modern, bright, and smelled like citrus.

“This is an interesting location for a law office,” Payton mused as he glanced around.

“I work with interesting people, so it suits. Besides, it’s not only my office, it’s my home. I own this entire building and I remodeled the place myself.”

“You did?”

“I can write a brief and swing a hammer,” Elias quipped as he motioned for us to follow him.

We passed the living room and entered an office, with more windows that looked out onto the street below. It was quiet up here. Good soundproofing for sure.

“Please, have a seat.”

Payton and I sat down in the leather chairs across from his desk. Elias took his seat, and opened up his laptop.

“Zoe filled me in on some of the details about your weekend nuptials in Vegas. While I specialize in contract law, I also have experience with divorce. I take it that’s how you want to proceed? To file for divorce?”

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t reply. Neither did Payton.

Elias raised one dark eyebrow. “Or maybe not?”

“Uh—”

“Well—”

Payton and I spoke at the same time.

Elias smiled, and the man looked like he was about to pose for the cover of GQ.

“It’s really not my place, but perhaps it would be a good idea for the two of you to talk to a marriage counselor or a therapist before you file. If you still wish to proceed, I’ll handle it as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

I glanced at Payton, and he stared back at me.

“What do you want to do?” he asked me.

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