Page 12 of Alive At Night

“I’ll start,” I said firmly. “You just worry about kicking ass at the game tomorrow. And for the love of God, promise me you’ll get some rest, ’kay? Or I’ll have to swing by your hotel tonight and tuck you in myself.”

Grayson’s lips curled in that rueful but amused way of his.

We’d been friends for years, but our beginnings had never really left. I might just be an associate attorney these days, and he might be the one starring in the NFL, but I’d always feel like his team captain.

“I promise,” he said.

* * *

My footsteps draggedon my way back to the office. I’d overshot my lunch hour by twenty minutes, too swept up in my conversation with Grayson to realize the time.

I didn’t want to admit it at lunch, but with the information Gray told me, I wasn’t confident we’d have a case. And I hated the feeling sinking deep in my gut. I was a provider. Being the one people turned to for help? I reveled in that role. I liked doling out realistic, no-nonsense advice to those willing or looking to receive it.

But any advice I could offer Grayson right now was lacking. Medical malpractice suits were determined based on the harm that was caused by negligence, and it would be hard to prove that in his situation. Gabriel was recovering fine from his surgery; he hadn’t suffered life-threatening effects from the heart defect before they were able to treat it. And while I more than understood Grayson’s concern for their next kid, I wasn’t hopeful thatwhat-ifwould be enough.

That didn’t mean I wouldn’t look into it for him, though. I’d do anything I could. Even if it—shit.

Even if it meant enlisting help from Juniper St. James.

I slouched against the doorway to our office, feeling unnecessarily worn out from the trek back. Juniper had her back to me as she rapidly worked through a spreadsheet projected onto her desktop. Apparently, the only times she buckled down were when I wasn’t around.

Maybe I should sift my way through research before doing this—before asking her. But surely that would be a waste of time, especially since a quick internet check on my way back confirmed what Juniper said earlier. That McKinley Medical case had a lot of similarities to Grayson’s, and she’d been on that team.

“Daisy.”

She didn’t turn around. Or stop. Just kept click-click-clicking. What was shedoing?

When she lifted her hand off the mouse, I thought for sure she would turn around. She was probably doing that thing where she paused dramatically before answering me to make itseemlike she could care less about our conversations. Juniper picked up her polka-dotted tumbler and took a drink. Then she went back to work.

Goddamnit.

“Juniper.”

I walked into the office, emphasizing her name. Her real name. She ignored me. Did she realize that she was only reinforcing the idea that I should, in fact, continue to call her any other name besides her real one?

With a step to the side, I hoped I might appear in her peripheral vision. But that was when I realized she was wearing earbuds.

No fucking wonder.

I waved a hand in front of her face, and she jumped. The glare that swung to meet me probably wasn’t a good sign, considering I wanted a favor.

God, I couldn’t believe I was about to ask for a favor.

“What’s got you so plugged in, huh?” I asked as she whipped her earbuds out.

To my surprise, a bit of blush rose onto Juniper’s cheeks as she rushed to press Pause on her phone and flip it over.

“Nothing.”

She spun her chair to face me, and we were suddenly pressed so close together that I had to take a step back. And sit. Standing above her had delivered an angle confusingly filled with cleavage, and now my subconscious was forcing me to glance out the window. My brain seemed to think the skyline could be a visual palate cleanser and slow my oddly rapid pulse.

“What do you want?” she urged, and the tap of her finger brought my attention back to reality.

“Can I, uh, have a donut?”

Suspicion danced over her face, but she nudged the platter of donuts toward me. “Here.”

I picked one up, plopping the sugary, powdery fried dough into my mouth. Juniper’s lips twitched as she watched me, making me feel like a goddamn zoo animal with how carefully she studied my approach to eating her donut. But so be it.

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