Page 74 of My Bossy Billionaire Attorney

I lift my head from the desk to see Clarissa standing in front of it, two coffee cups in her hands. She’s looking at me with an expression caught between uncertainty and pity.

“Yes,” I say, taking a cup to save her from having to look at me.

“Okay. I thought you could use the warmth. It’s a cold morning,” she says kindly.

Indeed.

After finding out that the person who wants me arrested and jailed for Brandon’s murder is willing to fabricate a video to add one more chink in my armor, my life has successfully fallen below rock bottom.

In the past two days, I have slept for almost four hours. And those four hours were filled with nightmares.

Or a prediction of what is to come because they featured me,the star, in handcuffs. The only reason I could tell that it was anightmare was because Brandon, Eric, and Elaine Rogers were correctional officers assigned to me.

“It gets cold fast,” Clarissa says. “There is a problem with the machine, so the coffee isn’t that hot.”

I know she’s telling me to drink it, so I do. It turns out to be hotter than I expected and scalds my tongue, but I bite the tip to keep from yelling.

I best get used to the misfortunes of life, because where I’m headed, they will be my constant companions.

“A—any progress?” She asks carefully.

I turn to her. “Progress?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes still carry the curiosity they held before that fateful day when I was escorted to the station, but there is hesitation in them now.

“You mean about my case?” I decide to make it easy for her.

She nods.

“Well, I don’t know. Do you think I killed my ex-fiancé?” I ask sarcastically.

She shakes her head briskly.

“No. I don’t think you did, and I’ve been telling everyone that. I don’t know who is behind it, but I’m sure Mr. Stone will figure it out.”

Mr. Stone, my attorney.

The same person who decided that it was in my best interest not to know about crucial evidence against me.

My fingers curl into a tight fist as I channel my anger there. I’m still livid, even though a part of me wants to understand that he did it for my benefit, that maybe he has a plan.

“Yeah,” I respond, already tired of the conversation. Of life in general. “He will.”

Clarissa shoots me a grin. “You’ve got this. I’m glad you came into the office today.”

“Me too.”

Partly.

I came in because I needed something to keep my mind busy, and staying in a motel room, staring at my phone did not seem to help.

But a paralegal who is under investigation for murder cannot work at a prestigious firm. I found out that my workload had been shared between Clarissa and another new paralegal.

I continue with the coffee, taking it slowly. Clarissa returns to her work, leaving me alone.

When the cup empties, I toss it into the bin and return my head to the desk.

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