“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Addison asked.

Sitting in the largest room at the Atherton Law Office, she watched her boss frown as he stooped behind his laptop, broad shoulders tense and thin lips pursed. Reid Atherton had never been one to be swayed by public opinion, but clearly it was getting to him now.

Addison couldn’t blame him. They had been getting death threats after all, not to mention people swarmed outside the office, waiting to egg their cars and shout obscenities at them.

“We never should have taken that case,” he sighed. “No matter how it turned out, we were always going to be public enemy number one.”

Was now the time for Addison to hit him with the ‘I told you so’ she had been holding back for months?

Unfortunately, no. However satisfying it might have been, it would help no one, and she was still hoping for that promotion. Being a smart-ass probably wouldn’t help in that regard.

“So what are they calling us now?” she asked instead, folding her hands in her lap.

The chair she was sitting on was sleek and modern, perfectly complementing the shiny, stylish interior of Reid’s office. It was also uncomfortable as hell, and she had been stuck there for a good ten minutes already, waiting for Reid to finally grace her with his attention. When his light brown eyes snapped to her, she immediately straightened, squaring her shoulders.

Reid was a handsome man, she had thought so the moment they had met. But he was her boss, and the last thing Addison wanted was for people to think she slept her way up the company ladder. Besides, Reid had never showed any romantic interest in her either way, so it hardly mattered what she thought of his appearance.

The press had always loved him, though, one publication even calling him the hunkiest attorney in town. How that had changed during the Rourke trial…

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Reid shrugged. “Heartless vultures, greedy bastards… One commenter suggests we should be accused of being accomplices to murder. Quite an impossibility, seeing as our client was found innocent.”

Nodding, Addison kept her expression neutral. No one liked to be hated by strangers, or thought to be a terrible person. But it wasn’t the journalists or the anonymous commentators that got under her skin the most. It was the feeling that their opinion of her and the firm was correct that bothered her the most.

“Indeed,” she replied evenly, ignoring the way her stomach turned into knots.

She knew better than to let her emotions guide her decisions. Everyone was entitled to a defense, and to be presumed innocent until found guilty. It was how the justice system worked. Yet telling herself that didn’t relieve the sick feeling in her gut.

We helped him get away with it.

The thought flitted through her mind, before she could cast it aside.

“I thought it would blow over once the trial ended,” Reid sighed. “But the way Rourke is acting is only making things worse.”

“And since he has his security guards and high mansion walls to hide behind, we’re getting the brunt of the outrage,” Addison added.

Ah, Sebastian Rourke. He was exactly as pretentious as his name, and he had given Addison the creeps all through the trial process. The way he had crinkled his nose at the fact she, a mere woman, was second chair to Reid had stayed with her, not really helping her form a better opinion of the trust-fund playboy.

Was he capable of killing his wife? Addison thought so. But it came down to the evidence, and in the end, reasonable doubt had won out. Rourke was a free man, and had already been spotted around town, hitting up trendy hotspots with different models and socialites on his arm like nothing had happened at all.

Not really the behavior of a grieving husband, was it?

It didn’t help that the late Mrs. Julia Rourke had been a veritable angel, her public image one of a woman constantly working with one charity or another, while all Sebastian used his money for was yachts and partying. Addison had to wonder how the two of them even ended up together in the first place.

“Exactly,” Reid agreed. “And who wants to hire a lawyer embroiled in controversy, constantly in the public eye? No one, that’s who.”

“It has to die down eventually,” Addison offered.

Her ass was falling asleep on the hard plastic of her chair, and she would rather be anywhere else instead of Reid’s office, giving the man empty platitudes. Not to mention it was lunchtime and her stomach was grumbling. Maybe she could sneak out the back and avoid being called an immoral bitch this time.

Now wouldn’t that be grand.

“Anyway,” Reid sighed, shutting his laptop. “I thought we could have lunch together and discuss our options. I’m meeting a potential client later on so this is the only time I have available.”

“A potential client?” Addison raised her brow at him. “I thought you said no one wants to hire us.”

“It’s an old friend looking for some legal advice,” he shrugged. “And he insisted we not meet at the office so I think it’s safe to say we’re still not people anyone wants to associate with.”

“All right,” Addison replied. “Let’s go to lunch then.”

She smoothed her hands down the front of her knee-length skirt as she got up, and Reid held the door open for her as they exited his office. In the open space that greeted them, desks were scattered around, stacked with papers and empty coffee cups, with the people behind them looking like they hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a while.

Cases that didn’t directly involve Reid or her were still ongoing, so life was still busy at the Atherton Law Office. Thankfully, their coworkers had mostly avoided public ire. Addison guessed they would like to keep it that way, which was why no one asked her to go out for a drink after work anymore.

Reid waited as she grabbed her camel coat from the back of her chair, catching a glimpse of herself on her darkened computer screen. Quickly, she tucked a strand of errand auburn hair back into her updo and slung her purse over her shoulder before rejoining Reid.

“Back door?” he asked.

She just nodded as they made their way downstairs, her heels clicking on the steps. Clutching her coat close, it was almost as if she could tell something was wrong before Reid swung the back doors open, only to find a small mob outside.

Shit.

For a moment, she contemplated turning around and running back inside, but she knew Reid would never go for that – he was too proud. So she kept behind him, covering her eyes against camera flashes with the palm of her hand.

Her boss was pushing a path through the angry people. Some were yelling questions at them, while others just chanted Justice for Julia. Gritting her teeth, Addison followed Reid’s voice, calling out for her to follow him. Disoriented, she looked down at her feet, trying to get to Reid’s car as quickly as possible.

Someone jostled her, making her steps zigzag on the pavement. A couple of reporters had circled Reid, trying to get a comment out of him. Addison tried to catch up when an angry voice caught her attention.

“You knew he was guilty,” a male voice snarled. “But the money was too good, wasn’t it?”

Before Addison could even register what was happening, she had been knocked to the ground, her purse spilling its contents out on the asphalt. She landed on her elbow as she went down, sending a sharp pain up her arm, reverberating right through her bones. Cursing under her breath, she managed to get back up, brushing gravel off her coat.

I’ve had just about enough of this.