“That’s not even the right reference—” Ari started, but stopped when Sloane couldn’t contain her laughter. She was baiting her on purpose.
Glancing at the group of friends waiting for her by the door, Sloane returned her attention to Ari as if overcome with pity. She leaned over, her golden skin reeking of coconut tanning oil. “You know, if you’re going to survive ten seconds in a courtroom, you’re going to have to buck up, Buttercup.”
Ari resisted moving away. She hated the proximity but couldn’t let herself look weak. With her fists balled at her sides, she remained motionless and tried not to react while Sloane’s breath assaulted the shell of her ear.
“You’re too easy to get a rise out of,” Sloane whispered.
“Don’t make it as fun for opposing counsel as you’ve made it for me all these years.”
Rage blurred Ari’s vision, but she gritted her teeth instead of responding. Pretending not to be rattled, Ari turned to grab her bag o the chair as Sloane sauntered away, obviously pleased with herself.
“I don’t know why you let her get to you like that,”
Jasmine said as they walked toward the door.
“It’s fine,” Ari replied over the lump in her throat as she jammed her trembling hands in the pockets of her jeans.
“Like you said, in a few weeks I’ll never have to see her again.”
CHAPTER 2
THE FIRST MONDAY in August was unbearably hot and humid.
Ari peeled o the shirt she’d been sleeping in and stood naked in front of her air conditioner. The window unit wasn’t powerful enough to cool her tiny one-bedroom apartment, but she made the best of it.
Once she was no longer at risk for heat stroke, she slipped into her stall shower and was blasted by icy water. Instead of cursing, she held her breath and forced herself under the freezing stream, deciding the cold water would make for a great hair day. Nothing was going to get her down, not even a malfunctioning water heater.
Leaving her clothes for last, Ari wrestled her wavy black hair into submission until it was straight and glossy. She took another turn standing at the AC blowing lukewarm air before putting on her make up.
As she did, her gaze veered toward the newly framed picture hanging on the wall of the living room some might call a glorified hallway. In it, a couple dozen people in uniforms smiled as they gathered in front of a supermarket.
Ari was standing at the center holding Trixie, the orange cat they’d found stowed away in the back of a cereal truck.
Her chest tightened. She’d started working at the market as a cashier when she was sixteen. Just over a decade later, she’d made it to assistant store manager. The place had become a second home, and leaving it was a little harder than she expected. Even with promises to visit, it would never be the same.
Dressed in a black pencil skirt, camisole, and pantyhose, Ari slipped on a pair of sneakers. The rest of her suit and high heels went in her bag, with the exception of the blazer she slung over her arm. With her lunch bag in hand, she was ready for the first day of the rest of her life.
Outside, the air was so thick and hot it was impossible to believe the sun had barely been up an hour. The steam fogged up her glasses and forced her to pull them o until they acclimated to the temperature change.
As she jogged down a flight of stairs at the end of her u-shaped apartment complex, Ari wished she could drive her car to work. It was old and crappy, but the AC worked. If she was lucky, in five or six years she might inherit a parking spot without having to sell an organ to a ord it.
Walking several blocks to the metro station with music streaming through her earbuds, Ari couldn’t stop smiling.
She’d dreamt of this moment since she was twelve. Even though she hadn’t factored the crushing heat into her fantasy, everything felt so right. It took all her self-control not to blast Staying Alive while strutting.
By the time she made it onto a metal car packed with bodies, sweat was dripping down her hose-covered legs.
Whoever made the stockings mandatory had never worn them in the summer. Or maybe at all.
As the metro moved on the track perched several feet above bumper-to-bumper tra c, Ari texted Jasmine to wish her luck on her first day of work in Seattle. With the time di erence she wouldn’t see it for a while, but Ari wouldn’t be looking at her phone again until lunch.
As her station neared, Ari gave up her seat and finished dressing. By the time the car doors slid open, she was perfectly composed with the exception of the perfume she’d spray on herself at the end of her five-minute walk to the o ce.
Each step toward the massive, peach and white building quickened her pulse. She’d made the trek a hundred times before as a summer intern, but now she was arriving as an assistant state attorney… as long as she passed the bar.
Pushing aside her worries about having survived the grueling test, she held her bags tighter and marched up the side entrance.
“No, Dad, that’s not what I need.” A woman screeched into her phone as she paced the walkway leading to the security checkpoint. “They don’t care that it’s my first day! I need my ID to get into the building. Please just send me a picture.”