Page 31 of Cause and Effect

“Don’t do that.” She held up her finger.

“I only speak the truth, Laurel.” I stared into her beautiful eyes.

“You invited me over to discuss the case. So far, that hasn’t happened.”

“Then let’s discuss it.” I climbed out of the pool, grabbed the other bottle of wine, and refilled our glasses. “So far, the only defense we have is her shattered ankle and inability to wear heels,” I said, sitting in the lounge chair.

“That’s not a good defense, Julian.”

“I know that. Hence, the reason we need to find something else.”

“Someone in Derek’s friend circle had to know he was cheating. Guys like to boast about that to their friends.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I said.

“Sure it is. Tell me about one guy you know that hasn’t cheated and boasted about it.”

She was right.

“Okay. You have a point. We’ll get a list of Derek’s friends and start interviewing them,” I said.

“This wine is amazing. Where did you get it?” she asked as she finished her glass.

"Isn’t it wonderful?" I grinned. "I discovered it in Italy a few years back. There's this lovely elderly couple who own an orchard, produce the wine, and sell it at an outdoor market. It's exclusive to Italy, so I occasionally have a few bottles shipped here."

“It’s nice that you support their small business,” she said, holding her glass.

Grabbing the wine, I poured some into her glass. “What can I say? I’m a nice guy. Come on.” I grabbed her hand and helped her from her seat, leading her down the steps to the beach.

“If you’re such a nice guy, why are you single?” she asked as we reached the shoreline.

“It’s what I choose,” I replied, staring at the water illuminated by the moon’s light.

“So, are you a commitment phobe?”

“I guess you can say that. What about you? Have you dated anyone since Jason passed away?”

“I went on a couple of dates with this guy in San Francisco, but he was boring. Wow.” She stumbled, and I gripped her arm.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“That wine is really starting to hit me.”

“I’m feeling it, too. I think we drank too much.” I smirked, swooping down and picking her up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her arms wrapped around my neck.

“Carrying you back to the house so you don’t fall.”

“Put me down right now, Julian Hamilton.”

I opened the sliding door and set her down in the kitchen. I’d forgotten how potent that wine was.

“I can’t drive home. I should call an Uber,” she said.

“Or you could just stay here tonight.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so, mister.” She jammed her finger into my chest.

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