Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

I lock up my office before walking toward the elevator with her. “Do you remember how good it felt when we got our first win?”

She smiles. “The Jodi Harris case. I remember it well.”

“Off the back of that we were put onto defending the grand theft auto and DUI of the state’s attorney.”

“And we lost miserably.”

I chuckle. “We did, but do you also remember the feeling of being given such a high-profile case? The feeling of being entrusted like that? My father knew we weren’t going to win, the evidence was clear against him, he even admitted it when he was intoxicated.”

“It doesn’t matter, as lawyers we were supposed to pick apart the evidence and make him seem innocent even if he was as guilty as sin.”

“Yeah, we really weren’t on our best form for that one. But my point is if we were never entrusted with that case, we wouldn’t have had the initiative to ask for more and to get down and dirty in the thick of things.”

“You make it sound so sinister.” Her laugh reverberates around the elevator.

“Stacey is an incredible lawyer, but what most law graduates lack is a sense of initiative. They like to play things by the book but we didn’t learn the things we now know by always doing things by the book.” The doors to the elevator ping open and we walk into the parking garage. “Joe is innocent, I know for a fact without checking into anything, so we’ll get our win.” I stop outside the doors. “Trust me on this, she’ll learn a lot more putting together her own cases instead of sitting in second chair and observing.”

“I do trust you, I wouldn’t have left your father’s company and started our own from scratch if I didn’t.”

“Good.” I start walking toward my car. “And you know what this means?”

“What?”

“A free weekend,” I exaggerate with a desperate voice.

She chuckles. “I can’t remember the last time I had a whole weekend to do whatever the hell I wanted. Any plans?”

I click the fob of my car keys, my Mercedes lighting up the lot. “I’ve got something in mind.”

I duck my head as Tris drives past me as I turn onto his street, popping back up when he turns the corner. I hope he didn’t recognize my SUV, but there’s a lot of people around here with the same model as me so hopefully he won’t realize.

I turn onto his driveway and park outside the house, hopping out while

grabbing the boots I’ve bought for Amelia and walking to the back gate. I check it’s open this time, sighing in relief when it is and walking through it toward the pool house.

All the curtains are closed so I can’t see inside. I press on the door handle but it doesn’t budge so I knock a beat on the glass.

I hear a thump then a curse making me chuckle as footsteps get closer to the door and Amelia’s sleepy, confused face appears when the curtain is pulled back.

“Wakey wakey!” I shout happily, my breath fogging up the glass of the door.

She shields her eyes against the bright sunlight, grimacing at me. “What are you doing here?” she asks, not making a move to unlock the door as she stares at me.

“Let me in and you’ll find out,” I retort, hiding the boots behind my back.

She huffs audibly before unlocking the door and pulling it open. Spinning around, she walks into the kitchen. “Too early,” she mutters, dragging her feet.

“Not a morning person?” My gaze falls on the crumpled-up duvet on her bed before I follow her into the kitchen and lean against the counter, the boots still behind my back. “Were you still sleeping? It’s nearly nine thirty.”

She swings her head around, narrowing her eyes at me. “Yes, I was still sleeping.” She pauses as she reaches into the cupboard and pulls a cup down. “I was up until three this morning.”

I’m not ashamed to say my eyes drift down to her ass in the tiny pajama shorts she’s wearing, checking her out. If my hands weren’t behind my back, I don’t think I could keep them to myself. She clears her throat and my head snaps up. “Sorry, what?”

She leans against the counter, crossing her arms. “I said: I thought you had work this weekend.”

Pulling my arms from behind my back, I dangle the boots off my fingers by their laces. “Change of plans. I thought I could take you on one of my favorite hiking trails. You in?” The expression on her face turns amused as she pushes the boots with her finger so they swing. “You don’t like them?”

“They’re brand new.” She pauses and I wait for the rest of her sentence, but when she only stares up at me, I raise a brow watching as she pushes off the counter and steps around me.