Work

With the two-week leave of absence over, Erik drove me to my office at Dorman, Wallace, & Edward’s in Chicago’s West Loop. Perry welcomed me with open arms. She looked happier than I remembered and shot a flirty glance at Domie Dorman, son of the senior partner, as he came by to say hello.

I had missed working, though I didn’t miss my clients. Today, that was going to change. When Dorman Sr. knocked on my door with a list of new cases he wanted me to take, some had committed crimes against women. A few had murdered their spouses or companions. I told him I was through representing men who abused women.

“From now on, I’ll pick the cases right for me,” I said.

Dorman shifted uneasily and seemed to bite his tongue. “Do what’s right for you, Wil.”

It was a step in the right direction.

Perry brought me up to speed with the two cases we had been working on, and I busied myself with research in my office until around lunchtime when I heard a bold knock on my door.

Charlotte—aka Charlie—