Page 33 of Ravaged With You

I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I hear those words. I exhale, then give him a hug. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Are we good?” he asks as I pull away.

“Absolutely.” I can’t guarantee I won’t press him again later, but for right now my heart is full again, knowing that my best friend is beside me.

We cross the small alcove, and Red holds the glass doors, etched with the firm name, open for me.

Immediately, our receptionist, Roxie, stands. She comes out from behind her desk, then pulls me into a hug. Well-past retirement age, Roxie has been with the firm longer than anyone, including the partners, as neither the original Kline or Rosenfeld are still alive. It’s like being hugged by a loving grandmother, and it’s everything I can do not to burst into tears.

“We didn’t expect to see you this week.”

“I know.” I’d called this morning to tell the attorney I’m assigned to about Mel’s death. “But I can’t just sit at home. Red’s taking me to deal with probate stuff,” I lie, “so I thought I could pick up some files and do a little work at home.”

“Oh, sugar—”

“I need to do something.”

She gives me another quick hug, then nods. “Do you want me to tell the partners you’re here?”

I shake my head. “They’ll be in a staff meeting now. I’ll just grab a few things and go.”

“Well, okay, but you let us know if you need anything. And you take care of her, Charlie.”

“I will, ma’am.”

Roxie is the only person I know who regularly calls Red by his legal name. They met when Red came in to sign the corporate documents for Swift Red that my boss had put together.

I lead Red back to my office, accepting condolences along the way. I share the space with two other legal assistants, neither of whom are here. “Probably in the meeting,” I say, nodding for Red to close the door.

The first order of business is to see if we ever took on Mel’s hotel friend as a client, and once I’m logged in, I navigate to the admin section and pull up the client list.

“Are you authorized to be in those files?” Red asks, though since I’m already in, the question is somewhat moot.

“Technically, no. But I’m not logged in as me.”

“Jo…”

I look up at him. “I did some work with Marissa a few months ago,” I say, referring to the office manager. “I saw her type in her password.” I have a knack for remembering certain things. Not a photographic memory per se, but names and numbers have a habit of sticking with me.

“So it will look like she was in the files.”

“Assuming anyone even notices. It’s hardly top-secret stuff.”

“But if they do, won’t they notice it’s from your computer?”

I shake my head. “Not unless they dig deep. And seriously, aren’t you overthinking this? We’re not doing a secret mission trying to get enemy intel. This is just your run of the mill law firm, and all we’re looking for is a name.”

“Fair enough. Too many years running black ops. But hurry, okay?”

“That’s the plan.”

As he leans over me, his nose near my ear, I try to focus on my search. But his proximity is distracting. As is the certainty that he can smell my strawberry shampoo. I still don’t understand why changing back was important to him, but considering his mood this morning, I decide not to explore the topic.

Besides, I’ve just gotten a hit. “There, see?” I point to the screen where Mel’s name is prominent. “He’s referred five clients over the last three years. I know Jack and Remy,” I add. “We met them after college when you were overseas. Looks like they’re currently inactive, which makes sense. Both have moved to the East coast.”

“Donna Clark is a frequent customer at the distillery,” Red tells me. “A party planner.”

I swivel around to look at him, my eyes narrowing. “Were they affectionate?”