Conflicted

“The psychiatrist will write up his report and send a copy to me and to the prosecution,” he explains. “And from there we work out the best strategy for his defence.”

“And for you, that’s insanity,” I say.

“An insanity plea makes my job easier, yes. But think about it this way: if there is even a remote chance this guy will be out one day, wouldn’t you prefer he’d have intensive therapy rather than be forgotten in the prison system?”

“Yes,” I admit. He makes a good point, and I know I need to work on my ability to see all sides of an argument.

We reach the city just after eight. So much for having me back by five. It’s been a long day and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep. As we drive through the busy restaurant district of town, Aaron pulls into a parking space outside of a Thai restaurant.

“I thought I could treat you to dinner.”

“Sure,” I reply, secretly thrilled. Suddenly I’m not so tired.

I get out of the car, my arms wrapped around my waist as I wait for him to join me on the sidewalk.

“You like Thai?” he asks. “Or there’s an Italian place just over there.”

“Thai is great,” I say.

He nods and leads me inside, his hand resting on the small of my back. I shiver, a thrill racing down my spine at the feel of his hands on me. If he notices, he doesn’t show it, and I’m glad. The last thing I want is for him to pick up on my attraction to him. We’re led to a small table near the back of the tiny restaurant. We sit down, a candle burning softly in the centre of the table between us.

“So tell me more about Lacey,” he says, as the waiter fills our glasses with the expensive white wine he ordered. I reach over for my glass and take a sip to steady my nerves. It does nothing. At this point, I think a whole barrel would fail to calm the storm inside me.

“There is honestly not much to tell.” I sound so lame. It’s times like this I wish I were more interesting. Or at least knew how to lie about it like Ariel.

“Come on, give me more than that. Sell

yourself to me.”

I blush and he laughs.

“Such a dirty mind for an innocent girl.”

I take another sip of my wine, my courage building. “I never said I was innocent. Maybe I meant there’s not much I want to tell you.”

“Ah, that’s better,” he says with a grin. “Boyfriend?” His dark eyes twinkle as my cheeks colour. Again.

“No,” I admit, suddenly feeling shy at how fast the lines of our relationship are blurring.

“I find that surprising,” he comments, smirking. “You must have boys lined up to date you.”

I cringe. “I’m not interested in ‘boys.’”

He grins. “Girls then. I’m all for whatever you’re attracted to.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I reply. I narrow my eyes because I’m pretty sure he knew that. His smirk confirms it. “I mean the guys my age aren’t mature enough for a relationship, and the last thing I want to be is just a notch on somebody’s bedpost. I don’t have time for that.”

“Are we talking about anyone in particular? You seem too annoyed for this not to be personal.”

“My friend Lucas,” I say, after a slight pause. “He’s the perfect example of what I’m talking about.

“How so?” he asks. His tone of voice changes slightly, but I’m too worked up to really care. He’s right. I get plenty of attention from guys, but they’re not the type I want anything to do with.

“He has a different girl every night, and I don’t see him changing his ways anytime soon.” I shrug, twisting a lock of my hair around my fingers. “I mean, good on those girls who can be like that, but I’m not one of them.”

“So, what are you looking for, Lacey?” he asks. His eyes burn through me as I think about his words. I don’t know what I’m looking for. That’s part of the problem. But I’ll know when I find it. I shift in my seat, the conversation moving faster than I’m comfortable with. He’s my boss. Sure, I have a crush, but it’s not like I want it to go anywhere.

Do I?