I CAUGHT A FLASH of pink out of the corner of my eye and spun in my desk chair to see Juniper pause in the doorway to our office. In one hand, she held her phone, staring at it while gripping a bright pink box in the other. I wasn’t sure what the hell was so interesting on that phone of hers, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to spare me a glance.
That was fine. It was honestly better if we didn’t interact because that never seemed to lead to anything good. Never had. Never would.
Tipping my head back, I closed my eyes. I had a fucking headache. Probably from the overpowering cloud of floral perfume that I’d all but lived in since starting at Gardner. It seemed stronger than I remembered from when we were—
Heels clicked across the floor, drawing closer and cutting off my thoughts.
I was about to open my eyes when a weight settled on my lap. Slowly, tentatively.
Distractedly.
“What the hell, Daisy?”
I opened my eyes to find them covered by a sheet of brown, sweet-smelling hair. Juniper shrieked, startled as she tried to correct herself before sitting fully on my lap. But it was too late. With her hands full and her balance off-kilter, Juniper’s ass landed squarely on my crotch. And hell, that was not what I needed this morning.
“Oh my God, I thought this was—” She broke off, sounding out of breath as she tried to push herself up. But she failed, careening to the side when her ankle wobbled in those goddamn high heels of her. She fell back onto me for a second time, and I had to grab the arms of my chair to keep myself in check.
She seemed like she needed a little nudge. And while I’d love to give it to her, touching Juniper was an awful idea.
“Whatever you thought was wrong,” I groaned as she wiggled on top of me.
Goddamnit, I needed her ass to find a new place to sit, and I needed that now. Before things got even worse. For both of us.
I snatched the pink box from her before she dropped it, hoping an extra hand might also help her find her balance.
“I know you want this desk,” I said, gritting my teeth in frustration. “But if you’re trying to steal it from me, this is not the way to do it.”
“I’m not trying to steal your desk,” she huffed. Her hand landed on my thigh, the quick touch burning through my pants as she pushed off me. Once she was back on two feet, I breathed a sigh of relief. I saw Juniper do the same, except the burst of oxygen did nothing to tame the blush on her cheeks. “I just—I just wasn’t paying attention, Julian.”
“Clearly.”
I crossed one leg over the other, and Juniper grabbed her box back out of my hands.
“What’s that?” I asked.
She flicked the top of the box open and grabbed a plastic plate from her desk. Wordlessly, she began plucking donuts out of the box and arranging them on the platter. I watched her chest rise and fall with quicker-than-normal breaths as she ignored me and fussed with her donuts instead.
“I thought we’ve been over this, Rosie.”
Juniper surveyed her donuts without responding. Satisfied that they hadn’t been damaged in the process, her cheeks indented with a tiny smile before she licked some powder off her finger.
She made a little noise of satisfaction, and I shifted in my desk chair.
I cleared my throat. “You can’t bribe your coworkers into liking you.”
“It’s called being nice,” Juniper said, words clipped. Her smile faded as it landed on me. “We’ve already been over that, too.”
I suppressed a sigh. God, she was a suck-up. For all her hollering about how she’d gotten here on hard work alone, she sure liked to do a lot of kissing ass and not a whole lot of anything else.
“You were so worried about your nice little donuts that you just sat on me, Lily.”
“That was an accident,” she sniffed, her attention shifting back to the donuts. “Cameron told me that the Happy Hole was his favorite.”
“The Happy Hole?” I repeated, disbelieving that any self-respecting establishment would name themselves that.
“They sell donuts, Julian.”
“I gathered that,” I said dryly, glancing at the pile of donuts again.
To my increasing frustration, Juniper had been assigned to the same case Cameron was working on. And now she kept acting like they were friends or whatever.
They were not friends. And they definitely weren’t more than friends. Cameron just had a sweet tooth.
“You bought two dozen donuts just because Cameron said he liked—” I scrunched my nose in distaste. “The Happy Hole? Don’t you think you’re coming on a little strong?”
That must have struck a nerve because Juniper made a whole show of ignoring the question. She tucked a wavy piece of hair into the elaborate pearl barrette on the side of her head before smoothing her skirt—black with small, white polka dots. As I watched her, I realized the dots were exactly the size of the pearls she wore as accessories.
Jesus Christ, Juniper.
I had a utilitarian outlook on clothes, which was one reason that I often missed the days of throwing on something comfortable to help my dad in the shop.
“I’m not coming on to him, Julian. Despite your continued belief that I have a one-track mind.” She tutted. “I think that says more about you than me.”
I pushed the barb aside because I wasn’t going to be the naive one in this situation.
“Look,” Juniper continued, “I know you’re upset because they didn’t put you on Cameron’s case.”
“I’m not upset,” I countered. “We’re not kids, Daisy. This isn’t some competition.”
She raised a brow at me. “Says the man who’s calling me by my childhood nicknames.”
With a grunt of annoyance, I swiveled back toward my desk. Unable to focus on the case notes I needed to read through, I stared at the cityscape instead. The sun was high; soon, I would be heading out for lunch with one of my visiting college buddies.
“Look, they only picked me because of the experience I have from my internship,” Juniper said, her voice softening. Was she pitying me? “Cameron doesn’t even have much background with the type of case we’re working on. But I played a pretty big role in winning a malpractice suit against McKinley Medical,” she added, suddenly sounding smug as all hell.
Yeah, never mind. There was no pity there. Not that I wanted it.
I sighed, inwardly realizing that beneath the attitude, she had a point. My internship experience consisted mainly of family law, one of Gardner’s other specialty areas.
“Fine.” I dragged a hand over my face. “Go deliver your donuts, then, if you feel like it will help win cases.”
I didn’t bother looking back at her. But I could tell she hadn’t moved from her spot beside me. Mostly because her presence was like a weight on my shoulders. But it also had to do with her perfume giving me a headache. Or maybe that was the donuts.
Finally, I felt her shift.
“I was going to offer you one, but I think I’ve changed my mind,” she said before picking up the pastries. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her fly through the door—as fast as someone holding two dozen donuts could fly through a door, anyway.
Kicking myself beneath my desk, I refocused on my laptop. I had a lot of shit to read before lunch. Better get started.
I almost didn’t see my former teammate Grayson when I walked into the Bellflower Bar. He’d camouflaged himself with a ball cap and sunglasses while lounging in a booth at the back. But when he tipped his head to thank the waitress for bringing over his drink—likely nonalcoholic; Grayson never drank when we lived together—I noticed that recognizable sharp jaw and five-o’clock shadow.
Sometimes I forgot he was fucking famous now.
While it’d been fun over the last six or so years to watch many of my college teammates go pro and start successful careers, it also stung. It was a bittersweet reminder of what I’d missed by moving home after graduation.
Grayson rose to his feet when he saw me, pulling off his shades before enveloping me in a gruff hug.
“You can keep the glasses on if you wanna lie low,” I said with a crooked smile.
“Nah.” He waved the idea away. “People don’t usually come up to me if I’m with someone else. It’s when I’m sitting alone that they think it’s fair game. Plus, we’re in Knights territory now.”
“You had that game-winning interception last year when LA matched up with the Knights, remember? Trust me, people know who you are. If anything, you gotta be careful ‘round here.”
Grayson chuckled, and we both squeezed into the booth. This was one of those places that put more tables on the floor than there was room for.
“No Nessa on this trip?” I asked. “Gabriel?”
“They haven’t come to many away games this year,” Grayson said, glancing to the side. The way he did it made my stomach sink.
“Why not?”
Last season, Grayson’s wife and four-year-old son traveled all over to watch his games. We had a hell of a time at the last one out here; I carried Gabe around on my shoulders and ignored Nessa whenever she glared at me for swearing at the field in front of her son.
The waitress took that inopportune moment to swing by to get my order, and my impatience ticked up while I waited for Gray to reply.
“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” he finally said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What’s going on?”
“They lied, Jules.” Only a few times throughout our friendship had I heard Grayson sound so tired. “Or they just plain fucked up.”
“Who?”
There was a brief pause while Grayson gathered his thoughts. When he began talking, it was with slow, measured words. To most people, he’d likely sound collected. But he was barely holding his shit together—I could tell.
“I transferred Gabriel to the clinic in Modesto because I wanted him to be seen by the team of doctors who treated me growing up. I requested imaging. Just to check, now that he’s older. And it’s showing that his heart—”
Grayson broke off, dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t have to say more for me to understand, though.
My fingers curled into fists below the table as I realized. Shit.
Grayson grew up with a congenital heart defect—some funny word that had to do with his aorta being too small. I didn’t know the details; all I knew was that it wasn’t good. Freshman year of college, he suffered a stroke, significant enough that he sat out sophomore season, which was also our last chance to play together.
When his son was born a few years later, doctors said his heart was healthy. My friend had been elated that Gabriel wouldn’t have to go through what he did. And now…
“Oh, hell. I’m sorry, man.”
Grayson lifted his head, shaking it. “I made his previous team pull up his old images from when he was born and—”
He clenched his teeth together, and I figured out the rest.
“And it showed the same?”
He nodded, drawing a deep breath before taking a sip of his drink.
“He’s had the defect since he was born, Jules. And they didn’t catch it. What if something had happened? What if he—” Grayson inhaled slowly, forcing a bit of calm into his voice. “He’s already had the surgery to correct it. It went well, and he’s recovering back home.”
I relaxed slightly, nodding to the waitress as she dropped off a drink for me.
“Well, that’s good news, at least.”
“Yeah.” Grayson didn’t seem the least bit settled, and I knew there was more. “But Nessa…God.”
As soon as his wife’s name left his mouth, Grayson whipped off his hat and scrubbed both hands over his face before dragging fingers through his short hair. Then he shoved his cap back on top of his head.
“You’re freaking me out, Gray.” I gripped my drink tightly. Nessa was the reason I knew Cameron’s sister, Collins. They’d lived together in college, and I became friends with both of them when Nessa started dating Grayson. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this kind of stress can’t be good for you and your heart.”
He chuckled, but it was mostly humorless. “You sound like Nessa.”
“Always did like her.”
And I needed to know she was okay.
Mentioning Nessa appeared to settle Grayson’s nerves. He relaxed back into the booth.
“This just isn’t how I wanted to deliver the news.” His lips stretched then, pulling into a smile. The first genuine one I’d seen today. “Nessa’s pregnant again.”
“Oh hell yeah.” I leaned back in my seat, too, matching his grin. Relief drenched my nervous system. “I’d be calling for shots if you weren’t, you know, you.”
He laughed openly at that, and it was good to see that twinkle in his eyes. “I’m so fucking happy,” he said. “You have no idea.”
And then everything dimmed.
“But if I’d known…” He pressed his lips together momentarily. “I don’t know if I would have chosen this. They told us there was a risk our kids could inherit the defect, but now we know it’s so much more than a possibility. And yeah, I want Gabriel to have siblings more than anything. Anything, Jules. But not at the risk of their health.”
I struggled to find words, but Grayson said them for me, sounding broken.
“I’m pissed, man. We should have known about Gabriel a long time ago. We should have been able to make an informed decision.”
My insides clenched. He was more than pissed; the burning in his gaze gave it away. Grayson Everett had always been incredibly even-tempered, and I’d never pegged him as vengeful. But he was a family man, through and through. God save anyone who threatened Nessa or his kids.
So I wasn’t surprised when he added, “And I want to take action.”
“Legal action?”
He nodded. “Shit, I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
The relief on Grayson’s face was palpable. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’ll start,” I said firmly. “You just worry about kicking ass at the game tomorrow. And for the love of God, promise me you’ll get some rest, ’kay? Or I’ll have to swing by your hotel tonight and tuck you in myself.”
Grayson’s lips curled in that rueful but amused way of his.
We’d been friends for years, but our beginnings had never really left. I might just be an associate attorney these days, and he might be the one starring in the NFL, but I’d always feel like his team captain.
“I promise,” he said.
My footsteps dragged on my way back to the office. I’d overshot my lunch hour by twenty minutes, too swept up in my conversation with Grayson to realize the time.
I didn’t want to admit it at lunch, but with the information Gray told me, I wasn’t confident we’d have a case. And I hated the feeling sinking deep in my gut. I was a provider. Being the one people turned to for help? I reveled in that role. I liked doling out realistic, no-nonsense advice to those willing or looking to receive it.
But any advice I could offer Grayson right now was lacking. Medical malpractice suits were determined based on the harm that was caused by negligence, and it would be hard to prove that in his situation. Gabriel was recovering fine from his surgery; he hadn’t suffered life-threatening effects from the heart defect before they were able to treat it. And while I more than understood Grayson’s concern for their next kid, I wasn’t hopeful that what-if would be enough.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t look into it for him, though. I’d do anything I could. Even if it—shit.
Even if it meant enlisting help from Juniper St. James.
I slouched against the doorway to our office, feeling unnecessarily worn out from the trek back. Juniper had her back to me as she rapidly worked through a spreadsheet projected onto her desktop. Apparently, the only times she buckled down were when I wasn’t around.
Maybe I should sift my way through research before doing this—before asking her. But surely that would be a waste of time, especially since a quick internet check on my way back confirmed what Juniper said earlier. That McKinley Medical case had a lot of similarities to Grayson’s, and she’d been on that team.
“Daisy.”
She didn’t turn around. Or stop. Just kept click-click-clicking. What was she doing?
When she lifted her hand off the mouse, I thought for sure she would turn around. She was probably doing that thing where she paused dramatically before answering me to make it seem like she could care less about our conversations. Juniper picked up her polka-dotted tumbler and took a drink. Then she went back to work.
Goddamnit.
“Juniper.”
I walked into the office, emphasizing her name. Her real name. She ignored me. Did she realize that she was only reinforcing the idea that I should, in fact, continue to call her any other name besides her real one?
With a step to the side, I hoped I might appear in her peripheral vision. But that was when I realized she was wearing earbuds.
No fucking wonder.
I waved a hand in front of her face, and she jumped. The glare that swung to meet me probably wasn’t a good sign, considering I wanted a favor.
God, I couldn’t believe I was about to ask for a favor.
“What’s got you so plugged in, huh?” I asked as she whipped her earbuds out.
To my surprise, a bit of blush rose onto Juniper’s cheeks as she rushed to press Pause on her phone and flip it over.
“Nothing.”
She spun her chair to face me, and we were suddenly pressed so close together that I had to take a step back. And sit. Standing above her had delivered an angle confusingly filled with cleavage, and now my subconscious was forcing me to glance out the window. My brain seemed to think the skyline could be a visual palate cleanser and slow my oddly rapid pulse.
“What do you want?” she urged, and the tap of her finger brought my attention back to reality.
“Can I, uh, have a donut?”
Suspicion danced over her face, but she nudged the platter of donuts toward me. “Here.”
I picked one up, plopping the sugary, powdery fried dough into my mouth. Juniper’s lips twitched as she watched me, making me feel like a goddamn zoo animal with how carefully she studied my approach to eating her donut. But so be it.
“You’re getting powdered sugar everywhere,” she said. There was a bit of humor in her voice.
“Maybe next time you bring treats, you should pick ones that aren’t so fucking messy.”
I licked my lips, and Juniper’s eyes flicked down to my mouth momentarily.
Heat wrapped around me.
This was annoyingly embarrassing. But somehow, I knew eating one of her precious donuts would soften her up a touch.
“The messier, the better,” she said primly. As if messy and Juniper St. James ever went together in the same sentence.
After finally swallowing the mouthful of fried dough, I cut to the chase.
“I need your help.”
