Page 54 of Alive At Night

APPROXIMATELY EVERY SEVENTEEN MINUTES, I opened a blank email and stared at it for at least thirty seconds while considering requesting a new office.

About every hour, I contemplated pulling up Indeed to search for associate attorney job openings in Boston. Or, you know what, maybe it wasn’t too late to get my shot in the NFL after all. It was unlikely, but the risk might be worth it. Especially when the alternative was continuing to work with Juniper.

To be clear,workingwith Juniper was never the problem. On more than one occasion, she proved to be a valuable asset to our team.

No, the problem wasbeing aroundJuniper. Specifically, sitting two feet away from her for the entirety of every single workday. For the love of God, breathing wasn’t even an option, not without being suffocated by the smell of flowers, both from the plants she continued to pile on her desk and from that goddamn perfume that seemed to follow me home.

I didn’t know how to look at her without remembering Sunday morning. The arousal in her eyes. The way her lips parted eagerly. Her skin. Her soft fucking skin when I kissed her neck.Shit, these were not things I was supposed to be thinking about.

But she wasright here. Right next to me. How was I not supposed to think about it?

It had been so much easier in college, when she was on the opposite side of the country and I could forget her.

Spending even more time with Juniper was the last thing I’d wanted to do Monday night, but fixing her brakes was nonnegotiable in my book. I refused to let her talk me out of doing it. Or let me talk myself out of doing it. Whoever replaced her brake pads when she took it into the shop clearly didn’t know what they were doing, and while they really should fix the brakes for free, I didn’t trust them to do it right.

Much to my relief, Juniper didn’t wait around in the garage while I worked on her car like last time. However, she did bring me a sandwich and a beer around six o’clock before marching back to the elevator.

Dinner Tuesday night was on me. At precisely seven o’clock, I put a container of sushi in front of her while she looked through a pile of Gabriel’s medical documentation.

When I’d first handed over the documents, I worried Juniper would put two and two together regarding our client’s identity. But then again, it didn’t list Grayson’s name. AndElez-Everettbarely made an appearance in a sea ofpatient thisandpatient that. In a way, it dehumanized the little boy with big, hazel eyes I’d come to love.

Gabriel Elez-Everett was going to be one talented little fucker. He already was, from what I’d heard about him. The musical talent, the athleticism, and the good nature in his genes were one hell of a combination.

“Eat, Violet,” I reminded Juni when she still hadn’t looked up from the notes.

Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t say anything.

She’d been uncharacteristically quiet the last day or two, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with that…thing I wasn’t going to think about.

“You don’t like sushi?” I asked, thinking I should have checked with her before ordering from the restaurant across the street. But if I’d asked her, she would have argued about who was buying dinner. Just like she didn’t ask if I wanted my sandwich last night because she knew I’d have told her not to bother.

“No, that’s not it.” She sighed, putting down the paperwork. “I love sushi. Thank you.”

I raised a brow.

Juniper noticed. Sighed again. Wrinkled her nose a second time. “It’s just…” she started. “Violet? Really?”

I chuckled, relieved dinner wasn’t the problem. “Oh, you don’t like that one?”

“I don’t likeanyof them.”

A forbidden smile wormed its way onto my face from her declaration, one I didn’t believe.

“Okay, Daisy.”

Juniper glanced at her sushi while biting down on her own smile.

“Did you find anything?” I asked, ignoring an odd invasive warmth.

She shook her head. “No, but I’m not giving up. We need to request more of the patient’s records between birth and the date of their proper diagnosis. While all of the records surrounding the corrective surgery indicate there will be no lasting harm to the patient, perhaps we can prove that the delayed diagnosis still caused worsening symptoms or other such damages during the years prior.”

I nodded, having thought the same thing earlier. To my knowledge, Gabriel had been presenting as a healthy child until they’d learned the truth, but maybe there was something Grayson hadn’t bothered to tell me.

“I’ll work on that.”

Satisfied with my answer, Juniper returned to scouring papers while quietly eating.

But selfishly, I wanted to keep her talking. Because, well, I wasn’t sure why. A quiet Juniper was a cause for concern, I supposed.

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