I keep my eyes on the glass conference room table in front of me. Every muscle in my body feels stiff and cold but my pulse races blood through my veins.

Jerry leans over in his chair next to me and says something in my ear. I ignore it. It’s probably just the same old crap he told me on our way over here.

He’s got nothing.

Say you don’t know what he’s talking about.

We’ll be out in five minutes.

I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the subpoena. Five minutes of Argento Barbie and I’ll be right back to ignoring him and my family again.

The door opens and I quickly turn my head up. A woman with thick-rimmed glasses walks in carrying a stenotype. She nods at me and sits down at the far end of the table as I exhale slowly. Not him. Not yet.

My eyes land on the bottle of water in front of me. That adorable secretary brought them in before. She smiled at me with what I’m sure was a clever wink-wink but things have definitely changed since I leapt into Lance’s coat closet.

The door opens again and my breath catches.

Lance walks in. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “Meeting went long.”

My heart stops as soon as I see his face.

“That’s all right, Lance,” Jerry slurs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Finally, Lance turns to look at me. “Ms. Argento,” he says with a nod.

“Mr. Tyler,” I say.

He sits down across from me and sets his notes down, along with his phone all ready to record our conversation. I stare at him, my stomach getting wrecked by butterflies. I’ve felt nauseous all morning counting the moments until I’d be in the same room with him again.

It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him.

We were barely together for very long at all and yet I still feel like someone just reached across the table and ripped my heart out. I’ve been in relationships that lasted ten times as long that I got over in a matter of hours but Lance Tyler has lingered with me. That man. His life. His beautiful daughter. How much I wanted to be a part of all of it.

But I didn’t fit. I don’t fit in anywhere. Not in his family or mine.

Lance raises his eyes, glancing at me for only a second before clearing his throat and looking down again. “Ms. Argento, would you state your name for the record, please?”

I nod as I gather my wits. “Beatrix May Argento.”

“And your father is Angelo Argento?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Argento, are you aware of any of your father’s dealings with local businesses?”

“My father sponsors several local businesses,” I answer.

“I’m not referring to sponsorships,” he says. “I’m referring to him extorting them.”

“Objection, Lance,” Jerry says. “Where’s your proof?”

Lance opens his file and slides out a sheet of paper. “According to your own bookkeeping, Mr. Smitts, the deposits made on these dates last month correspond to the same amount leaving the accounts owned by the following local business: Yummy Bean Coffee, The Red Brick Road, and—”

Jerry scoffs. “These numbers are rent, Lance. Mr. Argento owns the buildings these businesses operate in.”

“Except these amounts are fifty percent more than what they say they pay in rent,” Lance says. “You mind explaining why these people are overpaying your father, Ms. Argento?”

I flinch but my mouth opens. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my tongue stiff.

“Hikes in rent occurred in this area in the same month in 1995,” he says, staring at me. “The same month the violent crime rate plummeted.”

“Sounds like the quality of living went up with the property values,” Jerry says. “This is economics, not crime.”

Lance keeps his eyes on me. “Ms. Argento—”

“Jerry’s right,” I say. “Once again you’ve dragged me down here for unfounded accusations with no substantial proof.”

“There’s more than enough reasonable doubt here to convince a jury,” he says.

“Then, we’ll see you in court, Mr. Tyler.”

I lock my knees to keep them from shaking as I stand up and grab my jacket off the chair. I expect Lance to argue and say he has more questions but he just sits there as Jerry and I head for the door.

“Have a good day, Ms. Argento,” he finally says.

I turn back, my chest tugging me toward him but I stick to the doorway.

“You, too, Mr. Tyler,” I say.

Our eyes lock once more. Is this really what our affair has morphed into? Pointed stares and ambiguous pleasantries?

But he made his choice. I made mine.

I look straight ahead as I walk to the elevator with Jerry’s voice murmuring in one ear and out the other. He seems happy, the bare hints of a smile on his lips, so I guess he approves of my performance. The Argento family lives for another day. I guess that’s a good thing.

I step onto the elevator, trying hard to keep my eyes on the floor but I give in at the final moment before the doors close.

Lance stands at the end of the hall, one hand in a pocket and the other gripping his notes by his side. Stiff jaw and soft eyes.

The doors close and I hold my breath as the sudden descent turns my stomach.