Page 21 of The Monster and the Masochist

Vivian rolled her eyes, and Edmund laughed softly.

“Surely even you know jokes are supposed to be funny, Cassandra. No, this is not a joke.”

“He wouldn’t even shake my hand!” I snapped at Edmund, but it was Vivian who reprimanded me.

“He didn’t shake mine either when we met with him a few days ago, Cassandra. Stop taking everything so personally.”

I was seething, but I knew better than to argue with them. We were lawyers. Not peacekeepers. It wasn’t realistic to expect to only work cases with clients you liked or thought were innocent.

You needed to represent whoever had enough money to cover your damn retainer. I’d been lucky so far with my cases. I hadn’t had to represent anyone I found truly reprehensible, but it looked like that was all about to change.

“I’m going to go mingle,” I muttered, working against every fiber of my being that was screaming at me to just slit that man’s throat and be done with it.

‘How much simpler your life would be if you would just listen to me,’ my monster muttered testily, but as usual, I ignored it.

“Enjoy, Cassandra. You’ve earned it,” Edmund said, his tone warm.

I gave him a professional smile and resisted the urge to tell him I would enjoy it a lot more if he would just make me partner already, but I bit back that urge too.

Even I knew when to hold my tongue, and this wasn’t the time.

This event was for me; it wouldn’t do me any favors to appear ungrateful. So, I kept my mouth shut and melted into the waiting crowd to make my rounds.

Amber, one of our new paralegals, was gushing about how impressed she’d been with my defense in the Steele case when suddenly, all the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Frowning, I turned, instinctively scanning the restaurant for the source of my sudden discomfort.

My heart stuttered to a halt in my chest when I saw Theodora fucking Fairview standing at the wine bar, ordering a drink.

My blood turned to fire in my veins, and my skin sheeted with goosebumps.

What the fuck?

Theo was leaning against the bar, wearing fitted black suit pants and a crisp, white men’s shirt.

The shirt was untucked, and she had rolled up the sleeves to her elbows, showing off her lean, but well-muscled forearms. She was wearing a ridiculously skinny black tie strung up in a lazy knot around her throat like she was some sort of punk star that had just walked off stage.

Adding to the grungy rock star aesthetic she seemed to have going on was the new haircut she must have had done sometime between now and when I’d seen her in the cafe that morning.

The lower half of her head was now shaved, but she’d left the top of her dark brown hair longer. It was tied back in a slick bun, and she looked like a masc wet dream.

I watched her casually flirt with the pretty female bartender as she made Theo what looked like a Manhattan. The same uncomfortable feeling curled in my gut that I’d struggled with when I’d seen her flirting with that barista earlier resurfaced.

Was every woman on the planet fucking obsessed with her?

It was so annoying.

As if she felt me staring at her, Theo abruptly glanced in my direction, and her gaze collided with mine.

A slow, fox-like grin spread across her full lips, and she took a lazy sip of her drink as she watched me process the fact that she was here.

We stared at each other for a beat, and I felt my mouth part without my permission.

Then, she turned away and resumed her conversation with the bartender.

Losing her attention felt like a cloud had drifted in front of the sun, and I was suddenly feeling cold and rejected.

Which was ridiculous.