I drop down to reach under the bed in search of my clothes. It’s just after six in the morning and I haven’t quite decided whether or not I should wake Lance before conducting a pretty epic Walk of No Shame Whatsoever.

Last night was incredible. Full-blown amazing in every single way. No man has ever wrecked me quite like this before. Well, I mean, sure, okay, some have secured their slots in the Trix Bang of Fame but it has never been like this. It never made my eyes swell up or made every nerve in my body burst. I’m surprised I’m even alive right now, to be honest.

So, needless to say, I’m fucking terrified.

If I wake Lance and he looks at me with regret, it’s gonna kill me. I don’t want him to think last night was a mistake. I want him to reach out, take my hand, and pull me back in for round four.

Or is it five?

“Trix?”

I flinch and hop up to find Lance resting on his side staring at me.

“Hi, Lance,” I say.

“What are you doing on the floor?” he asks.

“Looking for my undies.” My hand slides over them. “Oh — here they are! No, wait…” I pause to look closer. “Those are yours.”

“You have somewhere to be?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Uh, well...” I tilt my head. “I did have a meeting scheduled with the Arts Center about my family’s annual donation but I guess that’s canceled.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Found them!” I pick up my panties from the foot of the bed and slides them on beneath my dress. “Because I quit.”

Lance turns and sets his feet on the floor. “Is that what happened yesterday?”

“I don’t want to get into the gory details or anything but... yeah. Starting today I’m officially not Argento Barbie anymore. No more charity auctions. No more fundraisers. I’m out.”

He stands up and walks over to me buck-ass naked but he doesn’t seem to care. Not saying I do or anything…

“And you’re okay with that?” he asks.

“Sure. It was my idea.” I step into my shoes. “Papa doesn’t want me so I’m not wasting my time anymore.”

“Trix…”

He cups my face with one hand, guiding my head up.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” I say.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast?” he asks.

I instantly smile. Breakfast doesn’t sound very regretful. Not at all.

“I don’t know if I should,” I answer.

“Why not?”

I squint at the closed door. “Isn’t the kid home? She might have an opinion about that sock…”

He laughs. “Then, would you like to avoid her and go to breakfast with me?”

I hum. “That’s a bit more like it.”

Lance leans in and plants a soft kiss on the edge of my mouth. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning!” I reply.

“You sleep all right?” he asks. “It’s kind of an old mattress.”

“Yeah, it was fine. After what we did, I could probably have slept just fine on dirt.”

He smiles. “Good to hear.”

“All very good.”

“I’m gonna put some pants on,” he says.

I glance down and sigh, getting one last look. “If you insist.”

He kisses me again, this time hitting the center of my mouth, and then turns to find his pants.

“I’ll head downstairs,” I say. “Can’t quite remember where I left my purse.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he says as he enters the bathroom.

I step out into the hallway, rolling my eyes as I catch sight of that stupid sock hanging on the doorknob. I yank it off and toss it back into the bedroom before closing the door behind me and going down the stairs.

“Purse, purse...”

I mutter to myself as I scan the living room, replaying the events of the night. I got here and then we... went to the kitchen for wine!

I walk that way and grind to a halt in the doorway. The refrigerator door is wide open and Lance definitely didn’t walk down here past me already so that means…

Haley glances around the door, her face going just as stiff as mine.

So much for avoiding the kid.

“Hi,” I say.

She looks me up and down as I do the same to her. Jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt. Hair up in a sloppy ponytail and... is that cinnamon gum she’s chewing?

Haley throws on a smile as she kicks the door closed with a bottle of water in her hand. “Hi,” she says. “It’s... Trix, right?”

I nod. “Short for Beatrix.”

“That’s a cool name.”

“Thank you.”

I spot my purse on the island counter and slink toward it. I grab it slowly, wondering if there’s any real way to explain its presence other than I’ve been upstairs all night with her dad. Judging by the heavy, awkward silence, I’m gonna guess not.

“So,” she says, “are you like, my dad’s client or what?”

I hesitate. “Umm...”

“Hey, Trix,” Lance’s voice rises from the living room, “how about we skip breakfast and go back upstairs for a quick—” He grinds to a halt in the doorway. “Haley!”

I turn to look at him, my face blushing when I see he’s wearing nothing but jeans with a shirt hanging from his hand by his side.

The girl spins around and pretends to check her phone.

“You’re up really early,” he says as he quickly throws his shirt on.

She keeps her eyes low. “I have a quiz first thing and I need to review my notes, so...”

I tilt my head, once again glancing her over. Her eyes are pink and I’m pretty sure that’s dry shampoo in her hair...

“Okay,” Lance says, clearing his throat. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She slides her bag up her shoulder and nods at me. “It was nice to see you again.”

I nod back. “You, too. Bye, Haley.”

She bolts out the kitchen and I hear her shoes tap quickly up the stairs.

Lance exhales hard. “She didn’t hear that, did she?”

“She totally did.”

He winces. “Right.”

I look down and my lips twitch. “You put your shirt on inside out… and backwards.”

He looks down and sees the tag on the outside. “Crap,” he says.

“It could have gone much worse,” I assure him as he pulls the shirt over his head.

“All things considered, I think you’re right.” He puts the shirt back on correctly. “We’re not moving too fast for her, are we?”

I cringe. “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to answer that yet.”

He chuckles. “Me neither.”

“Still want to go out for breakfast? I know a nice place.”

“Moira’s?” he asks.

I raise a brow. “Okay, you’re really gonna have to knock that shit off.”

He grins.

* * *

I finish off my first cup of coffee, feeling far more alert than when we first sat down here.

“You were right,” Lance says as he glances around the nearly empty cafe. “This place is nice.”

I nod. “I’ve never seen it this early, actually. Or on a Tuesday, now that I think about it.”

“Usually your Sunday spot, right?”

“So, should I just assume you already know everything about me or what?”

He sets down his mug. “Not everything. Patterns stand out, that’s all.”

“Patterns? You mean, schedules?” I ask. “As in reports from private investigators, that kind of thing?”

“Yes.”

I shrug. “Well, that’s honest.”

“They didn’t follow you for very long. Just a few weeks. They backed off when you were cleared of mischief.”

“Ooh.” I feign a shiver. “Cleared of mischief. I like that.”

He leans forward. “I think they might have been wrong, though. You’ve been nothing but trouble for me.”

I chuckle. “A little trouble is good sometimes.”

“It’s not bad so far.”

The server, Roger, pauses above us with a fresh batch of coffee in his pitcher. I nod, signaling to him for a refill and he squints from me to Lance and back again.

“Tell no one I was here and I’ll double your tip,” I whisper.

He flashes a wink before rushing off toward the next table.

Lance pauses. “What was that about?”

“Kinda feels like I’m cheating on my friends being here without them,” I say.

“I know what that’s like,” he says.

“Oh, yeah?”

“When Hal and I first moved to Cambridge, there was a little sandwich shop just off campus. She loved it and forbade me from going without her, but...”

“You did?”

“Just the once.” He shudders. “Never again.”

“How old was she then?”

He looks up, thinking hard. “About ten?”

I blink. “Wow. How in the world did you manage law school with a ten-year-old?”

“I asked myself that every day, actually.”

I glance into my coffee. “I guess your wife took care of her? Well, ex-wife?”

Lance opens his mouth then closes it again. “How’d you know I was married?”

“Just an assumption,” I say quickly.

He nods. “Right, yeah. We figured, you know, get married, have the baby, and just kind of make life up as we went along.”

“Divorced, huh?” I ask. “Two of my friends are a divorced couple, so I have a little idea of what that’s like. They didn’t have kids, though. Thank god.”

I laugh at the mental image in my head of Robbie awkwardly cradling an infant.

Lance takes a breath. “We never divorced, actually.”

“No?”

“No. She died while she was having Haley,” he says.

I set my mug down. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He waves a hand. “It’s ancient history. Literally.”

“That’s...” I exhale, feeling a twist in my gut. “Rough.”

He looks at me across the table. “You probably have a little idea of what that is like, right?” he says. “Your ancient history is similar, in a way. Just a different perspective of it.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. It is.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “after that, my parents helped me take care of Haley since I was still in high school. Then, I went to college at Stanford and they pitched in there, too, while I was in class or at work. After I graduated, I packed her up and we moved out east so I could go to law school. It’s been me and her ever since.”

My smile returns. “That sounds kinda neat, actually.”

Thankfully, he smiles, too. “She spent a lot of her childhood hanging out in dusty, old libraries with me and my friends, helping us study and make flash cards, things like that.”

“Ultimate babe magnet, too, I bet.”

“No. Well...” He bites his lip. “Okay, maybe a little. But, mostly, that was the last thing on my mind.”

My heart swells. “You sound like one hell of a dad, Lance.”

“I like to think I’m doing okay.”

“No, you are,” I say. “My dad dropped me on my grandmother’s doorstep. Don’t think he really knew how to deal with a baby girl.”

“I knew what I had to do the second I met her,” he says. “Can’t believe I’m defending Angelo Argento here but your dad probably did what he thought would be best for you.”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “I guess my childhood wasn’t awful. He was never too busy to take my calls, never missed a recital...”

He raises a brow. “Piano?”

“Ballet.”

“Ballet?”

I gasp. “Is this actual brand-new information for you?”

“It is!” He leans forward. “I didn’t know you danced.”

“We’ve literally dance once together already.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you danced danced.”

“Only for a little while. Takes a lot of structure and discipline — and I just don’t have that.”

He chuckles. “I can see that.”

I take a quick sip. “The school I went to burned down last year.”

“Shucks.”

“I was sad to see it go. I had some good memories.”

“Haley took ballet for a week, I think,” he says. “She hated it, dropped out, and signed up for karate instead.”

I laugh. “I like her.”

“Me, too. She got detention in junior high for twisting the arm of a kid who grabbed her ass. Almost broke his wrist.”

I smile, impressed. “I bet you were so proud.”

“I was. I really was.” He scratches his chin. “The school board did nothing to discipline the kid, though.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

His eyes flash with dormant anger. “I went lawyer dad on them so damn fast...”

“Hell yeah, you did.”

“He got suspended and Haley got ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“See?” I grin. “Good dad.”

His face slowly grimaces. “She started college this year and... honestly, I’m not taking it that well.”

“At least you know where she sleeps at night, right?” I joke.

He raises his mug. “Thank god for that.”

“Where is she going?”

“Northwestern.”

I jolt. “That’s where I went!”

“Yeah, I know.”

I glare at him and he laughs. “What’s her major?”

“Undeclared at the moment,” he says. “But I have my hopes.”

“Hopes for what? Do you want her to go law school? Follow in dad’s footsteps?”

“All dads do, don’t they?”

I look down, feeling a sting in my chest “I used to think so,” I say.

His eyes fall on my shoulder and he clears his throat. “Just tell me that school is full of boring kids who want to go to class, do their homework, and be in bed by nine so I can sleep at night.”

I snort. “Oh, hell no. When I was there, that place was Party City every—”

His eyes grow wide with horror.

“—other year,” I correct. “Yeah, that school is nothing but a bunch of ugly, virgin nerds.”

He squints in disbelief. I reach over the table and pat his hand.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I say. “She’s a smart kid with epic arm-twisting skills.”

Lance deflates and smothers his pain with a few more gulps of hot coffee before setting his empty mug to the side.

“Have you had enough coffee yet?” he asks.

I slide my own mug a few inches away and lean forward.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

He brings his hands together in front of him and stares at me over two steepled fingers. “What the hell are we even doing?” he asks.

“I have no idea,” I answer.

“Should we stop?”

“I don’t want to. Do you?”

“No.”

We stare silently at each other, waiting for the other to expand but neither of us takes that bullet.

I nod. “Good talk.”

He folds his arms on the table. “Trix, you are a stunning woman,” he says.

“I know,” I say with a smile.

“And I know that if I don’t get to know you, I’m gonna regret it.”

“You already know plenty, don’t you?”

“I know who you are,” he says. “I know the persona you put on to distract the world from what your family really does.”

“Allegedly,” I say.

“But that doesn’t mean I know you. The woman you are with me right now isn’t anything like the one I met in my office or danced with me in front of a hundred people.”

“Yeah…” I sigh, “she had a lot going on.”

Lance smiles. “I want to see you again. The real Trix. Someplace where I can forget who I am and you can forget who are you are... and we can just be ourselves.”

My heart skips. “Someplace simple,” I say.

He nods. “Exactly.”

I can’t help the smile on my face. Maybe this is what Nora was talking about before. Simple.

Of course, nothing about this is simple, no matter how much I want to pretend. Lance is the one man I shouldn’t have looked twice at. I’m the one woman who can mess everything up for him if we’re not careful. But I don’t see him as an enemy and he doesn’t treat me like a plague.

I look at him and I see a kind man. A hot, single dad for sure but a good guy just trying to do some good in the world and provide everything for his daughter.

I see a life; one that makes me think twice about mine.

“I would like that very much,” I say. “But...”

He leans forward an inch. “But?”

“It’s easy to talk about the real Trix.” I gesture at him. “What about the real Lance? At the end of the day, you’re still the guy prosecuting my father.”

“My case doesn’t touch you.”

“Lance, he’s my dad.”

“And yesterday, you walked out on him,” he says. “He didn’t want you anymore. That’s what you said, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Well, I want you.” His gaze wanders my face. “He only wanted you around because of what you could do for him.”

“Why do you want me around then?” I ask.

He smiles. “Because you care. Not just about your family but other families, too. That whole tongue-lashing you gave me about the good your father does and the thousands of presents under Christmas trees — you meant that. But you got it wrong, too.”

“How?”

“Your father doesn’t do that work. You do. You know, half the photos I have of your brothers are them walking the streets, hanging out with known thugs at the horse races, or their mugshots. The ones I have of you? Volunteering at soup kitchens. Playing with kids in hospitals. Look me in the eye and tell me you did all of that because Angelo promised you a seat at his table and you were just biding your time until then. You’re better than that, Trix. You’re better than them.”

“And none of this has anything to do with how you want information from me in exchange for cutting his sentence in half?”

“At first, sure. But after last night?” He pauses. “At this point, do you even want him out that badly anymore?”

I inhale to argue but my tongue freezes.

No. I don’t.

I don’t care if my father gets out of jail or not.

I look down, feeling my insides tighten.

“Trix, I’m sorry,” Lance says. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “You’re right. I’ve spent years showing blind loyalty to a family that clearly has none for me, but…” I take a deep breath. “Lance, I want to keep seeing you but I can’t help you with your case. I’m sorry.”

He nods. “I think we can work with that.”

“I don’t want to hear about it, either,” I add. “So, if we could keep that subject off-limits while we’re together, that’d be great.”

“Okay, just so I have this clear...” He smirks. “We can continue seeing each other as long as we don’t talk about my work?”

“Or my family.”

“Or your family.”

“That’s it,” I say.

“No work. No family.” He bites his lip. “What do we talk about then?”

I chuckle into my mug. “We might not even need to talk at all.”

Lance smiles.