Page 31 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

Some gift horse.

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“Now, we’re going to work on your alibi,” Michael says as he sips from a glass.

After leaving the office, he decided that he wanted a drink, so we ended up going to a quiet bar tucked into a busy part of the city.

“Do you always meet clients here?” The words fly out of my mouth, and I instantly regret saying it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask that.”

“Whatever you choose to do is your business. My alibi for the night Brandon was murdered is…nothing. I was at home. I’m usually at home when I’m not at work.”

“At the time of his death, I was in my living room with a glass of wine, watching a re-run of FRIENDS. I slept in front of the television until around three am, and then I went to get a glass of water.”

“I couldn’t sleep after that, so I did some work. Light work because I didn’t want to rush and miss an important detail. After that, I heated some pizza rolls, ended up eating one, and then went to bed.”

The words come out on a roll, and I don’t take more than one gulp of oxygen until I’m done.

Michael’s response is three slow, loud, and evenly spaced claps.

“You’re good.”

“At what?”

“Your memory. You’re good at remembering the tiniest detail. I barely know what happens after I get home because I’m always dog-tired and ready to collapse. Of course, I don’t, but that’s beside the point.”

“You’d have made a fine attorney.”

His words make my heart drop to my stomach. Although said without the intention to evoke emotions, it touches a deep part of me. Those are the words I always wanted to hear from my father.

“Thank you,” I respond. “I appreciate that. But I’m not one, and I am the prime suspect in the murder of my ex-fiancé. Having a detailed recollection of what I did that night isn’t an alibi.”

He looks at me earnestly. “Don’t be a pessimist, Savannah. That might work for some people, but it doesn’t look good on you. I want you to be confident we will get you out of this mess.”

“Does that mean that you believe me?”

He shrugs. “That doesn’t matter. My job is to create reasonable doubt. To do that, we’ll be moving on to the next step. I need to know where Brandon Portman went before he went home that day.”

“Right from when he left the restaurant.”

Something occurs to me.

“When Alice came by, she said the cops kept everything hush. They don’t have any reason to do that, right? I mean, Elaine Rogers wants to nail me for the crime.”

“Why hasn’t she tried to get the news out? Why hasn’t my father called me?”

A mischievous smile spreads on Michael’s face.

“That’s because I decided I would handle your case. And I hate when rumors get around before I can put a pin in them. Fortunately for us, I know some powerful people.”

“Including Rogers’ boss. I didn’t ask him to shut down the investigation, just keep it quiet until I can get a handle on things. And he owes me one, so he agreed. Plus, they know what will happen if someone crosses me.”

I don’t know whether to admire Michael or be afraid of him.

“Most people think you’re kind and thoughtful. They don’t know who you really are.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way, thank you.”

I shrug. “Sure. I’m not about to go around telling people your business. Especially since you’ve made it the only condition with which you’d help me.”

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