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“I don’t—” she starts, outraged. Then she realizes I’m teasing and rolls her eyes. “It’s not my fault people put their entire lives and business on the internet where I can find it.”

I nod my agreement. “So that is what PI work is nowadays? You do everything online? No in-person stalking?”

“Very rarely. Sometimes it’s necessary to get my eyes on things, but for the most part, yes. I do my sleuthing online.”

Another nod. “Is that how you found the paintings?” I ask casually.

Another shrug. “He wasn’t very secretive about the purchases. Just the prices.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “He must have been a little secretive. Or else I would have known about it.”

A grin curls her lips—smug, proud, and far bigger than I expected. “Agree to disagree, Mr. Price.”

Leaning forward, I plant my forearms on the table. “Do you think you’re that good? Or is my team that bad?”

Her smugness doesn’t fade an ounce. “Both.”

I need this girl on my team.

“Come work for me.” It bursts out of me, no subtlety or grace. I need her on Randall’s case.

Her answer comes just as quickly. “No.”

Now I’m the one who’s surprised. And my usual charm drops instantly.

I lean back in my chair with a heavy thud, letting my confusion show. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t like your firm.”

I’m completely lost. “What? Why? It’s a normal firm, with a variety of clients and a variety of cases. What’s there to dislike?” I gesture at nothing in particular. “I mean, more than the general dislike of lawyers.”

Charli sighs. “Look. I’m not expecting you to be working pro bono on environmental cases. But out of the four random cases I checked, the companies you represented were unethical, power-hungry monsters. That is why I don’t want to work for you.”

For the first time in my career, shame slithers through me. Because she might be right.

I know how people feel about lawyers. I’m not blind to the stereotype, or even to the truth about a lot of attorneys. We can be greedy, selfish, and place our careers above everything else. I know I’m not like that, but I’m also self-aware enough to know that my clients aren’t always the best representation of that. If Charli looked up my cases and dug into my clients, I don’t blame her for jumping to conclusions.

I drum my fingers along the table and look out at the café, considering my next words carefully.

“This case is nothing like my others,” I tell her. “Regardless of my past, this client is a good man. And he deserves good help.”

When I shift my focus back to Charli, I find her head cocked as she studies me closely.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

When I nod in answer, she chews on her lip for a moment before asking, “Are you being biased that he’s a good man? Or is he actually?”

“He’s the best person I know,” I answer without hesitation.

She takes two full minutes to think about her next step. When she finally speaks, it’s with the weight of her consideration behind it.

“Okay, then. Tell me about this good man. And his case.”

SIX

CHARLI

I study the man in front of me, cataloging every reaction, every thought I can catch. He’s got a good poker face so I can’t see everything, but I can see the important things. Namely, that he’s fully aware of his past clients’ reputations. He doesn’t try to convince me that the man who was sued by his employee for an unfair severance package isn’t a shithead who was very much unfair with the severance he awarded—to the man who worked for him for twenty years and was three months from retiring.