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“I can make some calls,” I offered. “A few of my clients might be interested in the tax write-off.”

“Always the lawyer.”

The food arrived. A salad for Cleo, a turkey burger for Jeremy, and a BLT for me. We ate for a few minutes before Jeremy pointed his finger at me.

“So. The gala. You bringing a date?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m not seeing anyone and I’m certainly not going to cold call some random woman.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Beau, brother. You just won a big case. Take a night off. Find a beautiful woman. Have some fun.”

“I have plenty of fun.”

“Work doesn’t count.”

“I go on dates,” I said defensively. “Casual things. Here and there.”

“Here and there,” Cleo echoed, her eyebrow arched. “That’s not dating.”

“It works for me.”

“You’re going to die alone.”

“At least I’ll die with a corner office.”

Jeremy laughed, but Cleo just shook her head. “What about you?” I asked her, eager to redirect. “You bringing someone?”

Her expression soured. “No. I don’t have time to meet people in real life, and online dating is a minefield of disappointment.”

Jeremy snorted. “Amateur hour.”

“What about you?” I asked him. “Let me guess. You’ve got women lined up from here to Milan.”

“I’ve narrowed it down,” he said with absolutely zero shame. “Six possibilities.”

“Pig,” Cleo said in disgust.

I held up my hand, which Jeremy quickly slapped.

“You’re both pigs.”

We finished lunch with the usual bickering and laughter. It felt good being with them. I spent so much time in courtrooms and conference rooms that I sometimes forgot what it was like to just exist with people who really knew me.

We headed out, all of us checking our phones. Cleo hugged me goodbye.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said.

She shoved Jeremy playfully. “I’ll see you two piggies later.”

Jeremy climbed into his Uber, Cleo into a cab.

I checked my app to see where my Uber was. My phone vibrated in my hand. The name on the screen made me freeze.

Lou Corwin.

“Shit,” I muttered.

This couldn’t be good. He was going to hold me personally responsible for whatever llama catastrophe happened. Did he witness more llama lovin’? Oh God, if they ate some royal rosebush, we were going to be dragged back into court.