This conversation was pointless. Why was it so hard for Gabriel to understand? I didn’t have time for a relationship, but more importantly, I didn’t want a relationship, or at least not the kind he wanted. Gabriel wanted to shower me with romance—surprise dinners, weekend getaways, moonlit walks around Central Park, bubble baths with candles—everything most girls wanted. Just the thought made me nauseous.

“Come on, it’s one weekend. It’ll be fun,” he said. No, it was fun when you talked less and fucked me more, I thought. He wanted me to go away with him to his parents’ house in the Hamptons. A weekend away was the worst possible idea right now. I was on the verge of being named partner at Hugh and Roscow Law, one of the best law firms in the city. I couldn’t have even the appearance of being anything other than totally dedicated. Not now.

“You know I can’t. Not when I’m so close to finally making partner,” I said as I buttoned up my blouse.

“You’ve been saying that for months,” Gabriel protested. The fact that he could recall what I’d been saying for months meant this had already gone on for too long. Our relationship had started out just the way I wanted it—hot, casual sex whenever and wherever we wanted. I thought for a while maybe I had found someone I could keep around for more than a few weeks, have the kind of relationship where we satisfied each other’s physical needs but left the mess of feelings and emotions out of it. But then Gabriel started wanting more, and I couldn’t give him more.

“You’re allowed to have a life outside of the law firm, you know?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head for what felt like the hundredth time since this conversation started. I didn’t have time for this shit. I’d strung him out too long.

“Gabriel,” I sighed, slipping on my heels. “This is never going to work. We want different things.” He ran a hand through his thick black hair and looked at me with his deep brown eyes. God, he was so hot. His tanned skin and muscular frame made me want to take my clothes off and stay in bed with him all day. I tried to clear my thoughts. His good looks were what got me in this mess in the first place. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and it had been since the day I’d literally run into him on the subway, but I couldn’t give him what he was asking for.

My career was my life. I was considered one of the best defense attorneys in New York City. It had been just Dan Hugh and Jack Roscow since they started the firm 25 years ago, so adding a third name partner was a big deal. I wasn’t about to let Gabriel and his good looks get in the way.

“What do you mean?” he asked. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. When I was young and still believed in fairy tales and happy endings, I’d given my heart away. It was never happening again. I didn’t need love and a relationship to interfere with my life. I needed sex and passion and that was it.

Gabriel had been perfect for that—until now. Until he wanted a real relationship.

“Look, it’s been great,” I said. “But I’m not ready for a relationship. I could never give you what you want. I’m not girlfriend material. Right now, the law firm is my life, and nothing is going to change that. I don’t have the time for weekends away and dinner on Tuesday nights. This was never going to be anything other than sex.” I laid out my points logically and without emotion, just like I did in the courtroom.

You could always tell what he was thinking just by looking at his face, and right now, he was a mixture of anger and sadness. He dropped to his knees in front of me and ran a hand up the inside of my leg. My breath caught in my throat when he reached the bare skin above my thigh-high stocking.

“Olivia,” he whispered, his fingers reaching the edge of my panties. Goddamn him. There was no way I could end this with his fingers there. I let out a whimper as he rubbed me through my panties. “You don’t really mean that. Let me show you how awesome life could be if you stopped working 100 hours a week, and stopped giving your entire life to old men who don’t even appreciate everything you have to offer.”

That jolted me out of my Gabriel-induced haze. I pushed his hand away and stepped out of his grasp.

“That isn’t going to happen. Not now. Probably not ever,” I snapped. I straightened my skirt and put on my earrings. If I didn’t leave soon, I was going to be late. “I have to go.”

“Olivia, please,” he begged, still kneeling in the middle of my bedroom.

“Gabriel, I’m sorry. I should’ve been clearer with my intentions. I’ve really got to go.”

“Fine,” he snorted. He pulled on his jeans and grabbed his shirt before storming out of the room. He had his shoes on and was to the door by the time I joined him in the living room. He didn’t say anything else, just gave me an angry look and slammed the door behind him.

I waited long enough that Gabriel and I wouldn’t have to share the elevator, and then I left too. The courtroom was calling.

* * *

Lawyer had not been my first career choice. I had wanted to be a painter, maybe someone’s wife and mother, before real life had made me grow up and realize you didn’t always get what you wanted. I’d graduated at the top of my class from Columbia Law School, and had immediately received offers from several firms. I’d seen firsthand the effects a mediocre defense attorney could have on the lives of their clients, and I was determined to never let that be me.

Over the years, I had become good at arguing, and even better at questioning witnesses. Now, ten years in, I could turn even the best-trained witness into a stuttering mess in a matter of minutes.

The poor girl in front of me didn’t stand a chance. She was young and naive, and a terrible liar. She’d accused my client of rape, and I would’ve bet my expensive Chelsea apartment on the fact that she was lying. Rape cases were my least favorite. Nobody won those cases. But someone had to represent the defendants, especially the innocent. There were hundreds, probably thousands of unreported, unprosecuted rape cases, and just as many where the perpetrator got off easy, but there were also dozens of false accusations.

“Do you remember having sex with Mr. Holden?” I asked.

“Well … I … I don’t know,” she stammered, never making eye contact.

“You don’t know if you remember having sex with him?”

She looked around the courtroom like the answer was somewhere on the walls.

“Answer the question,” the judge prodded.

“No, I don’t remember having sex with him.” She said the last word like it was poison.

“If you don’t remember having sex with him, how can you be sure it was him? How can you be sure you had sex at all? How can you be sure you didn’t make the whole thing up?”

“Objection!” Jason Drew, New York City DA, yelled. I resisted the urge to smirk and kept my face neutral. I was surprised it had taken him so long.

I’d been offered a job by the DA’s office before I’d even graduated. I could be in Drew’s seat right now, but I’d turned it down. Something he knew and was still bitter about. We’d gone to law school together and had been rivals, and friends, since the very beginning. And though I’d been offered the job before him, prosecution wasn’t for me—it was criminal defense or not at all.

“Withdrawn.” I didn’t need her to admit to making up the whole story, because the evidence proved it. Two hours of testimony, and very a short deliberation later, and the jury agreed with me.

“I don’t know how you sleep at night, Roberts,” Drew said, walking into the elevator behind me.

“Me? What about you? Prosecuting innocent people.” I turned around to face him.

“He wasn’t innocent.”

“Well, luckily, the jury gets to decide … not you.”

“That poor girl is going to be traumatized for the rest of her life.”

“My client spent six months in jail, waiting for this case to go to trial. You don’t think that is going to impact him?”

“You know Jerry would hire you in a heartbeat if you ever wanted to join the light side,” Drew said, abruptly changing the subject, his eyes never leaving mine. We’d slept together once, during our first case against each other. Too much emotion, adrenaline, and alcohol had gotten the best of us. It’d made for an awkward-as-hell next day in the courtroom, but it had no impact on our relationship now.

“Not a chance,” I replied, as the elevator arrived on the ground floor. “Seeing the look on your face every time I win a case is too priceless.” He stumbled on his response long enough that I took a second jab at him.

“You should really work on making quick comebacks,” I said, getting off the elevator. “Maybe it’ll help you beat me in the courtroom.”

“A little arrogant, are we?”

“When have you ever known me to be humble?” I laughed.

“Fair point,” he conceded. “You always said you wanted to be the best, I just wish you’d put your talents to use for the right team.”

“You know why I chose to be a defense attorney,” I said, ignoring his implication that defense attorneys were in the wrong.

“It’s never too late to change for the better,” he joked. I considered Drew to be one of my closest friends, but we just didn’t get to spend much time together—conflict of interest and all.

“That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“Was that ship named ‘The Stella’?” Drew teased, holding the door of the courthouse open for me. I stiffened at the reference to my past, but then let it roll off me.

“Ha, very funny.”

“You wanna share a cab?”

“Nah, I’ve got to head back to the office for a while.”

“You work too hard, Roberts.” He shook his head and hailed a cab.

“That’s why I’m the best.” I smirked, and he shook his head again. “See you next time, Drew.”