Page 3 of My Silver Fox Savior

“As long as we’re safe,” I mutter.

“Safe,” he repeats with a humorless laugh. Sitting forward, he puts the papers down, staring at me with bloodshot eyes. “We’re safer than the three brothers trapped for an entire day with their violent, drug-addicted?—”

“I don’t need the emotional blackmail, Carter,” I hiss. “I’m here to help people. Otherwise, I would’ve told you to go to hell months ago.”

He sighs, nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just this job …”

“Try to think about the good we’re doing. That’s what I try to do.”

“For every good thing, there are ten or twenty bad ones.”

“If you think like that, you’ll never be happy.”

“I’ve worked here for nearly twenty years, Lily. Believe me, I stopped trying to be happy a long time ago.”

I shake my head. I think I may even make a tsking sound, which I’ve tried to stop myself from doing because it makes me come off as thinking I’m better than people, asprissy.

“I don’t agree with that,” I say. “I think if you come to work and do your best and manage to helpsomepeople, there’s no reason to let it eat away at you all the time.”

“So you haven’t had any nightmares? Or days off stolen by memories of this place?”

“I just don’t see the benefit in going on about it,” I snap. “Anyway …” I lower my voice. “Why the split today?”

“I’ve whittled the cases down to two thatneedhelp. One is a girl whose mother has allowed her to hang out in some dive bar across the street. A few of the neighbors have contacted us. The other is a kid whose uncle keeps him in the same enclosure as a large dog; a relative informed us about it. It’s the only way we would’ve heard since it’s on the city’s outskirts. I’m taking the dog.”

He gives me one of his looks. It doesn’t take much to decode it. He’s basically telling me—without saying it—that there’s a chance he goes out to this place and the dog mauls him. Or the psycho uncle beats him up. He’s giving me a look that says,You’ve got the easy job.

“Where’s the file?” I ask bluntly.

The bitter truth is there are never any easy jobs in this profession.

CHAPTER THREE

LANDON

“We can always find the time,” Ethan says, giving me a searching look across our shared office. We’ve shared an office since we started the agency, a promise we made a decade ago that we’d always be equals. He’s tall, on the bulky, muscular side, with full dark black hair slicked back and a gold watch winking at his wrist. “What sort of pro bono work are you thinking?”

“A couple of parents in an apartment block in The Row want to sue a local gang for noise complaints.”

“Noise complaints?” Ethan says doubtfully.

“There’s more to it. The gang has been trying to draw kids to their bar. God knows why, butweknow it can’t be good. If they can get the bar closed down for noise, maybe they’ll move on.”

Ethan nods. “Find another bar, find some more kids …”

I grit my teeth. “Don’t start that crap.”

He fiddles with his watch. “It’s not crap, Landon. It’s just a fact that these sorts of people will always find somewhere to pull their stunts. If you get this bar shut down …”

“Then where does it end?” I growl, sitting up and thinking,months, not years. “If doing good has no meaning, then we should just sit here waiting for the next starlet to decide to leave her husband.”

“Ah, so our entire business is a joke. Peopleneeddivorce lawyers, dammit.”

“I never said it was a joke. I’m not putting down our business; I’m not putting this stuff down either.”

He raises his hands. “All right. Jeez.” After a pause, he says, “Are you okay, Landon? You’ve been in a bad mood all morning.”

“I’m fine,” I grunt.

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