Chapter Twenty Two

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That evening . . .

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Shamira knocked gently on the door to Shane's office. The door buzzed and opened slightly, so she pulled it the rest of the way open. She peaked her head inside. Shane was sitting behind his desk, and the judge's wife she'd seen the previous night was in a chair across from him. She was wearing a different dress suit than she had the last time, so she'd probably gone home in the interim.

"I'm sorry Sir," Shamira said, looking down at the ground. "I didn't know you had company. I'll come back --"

"Come in, Shamira," he interrupted. "Mrs. Grunholdt, this is Shamira, my latest acquisition. Dressed appropriately, I see," he murmured appreciatively.

Monique had put several more outfits into Shamira's closet, including the tight stretchy black pants with a zipper that ran from the front to the back between her legs, a black leather bustier that was laced up the middle, a brown leather belt, and black opera g