ARI PULLED her glasses o and pressed her fingers against her eyelids. She’d been staring at her computer screen so long, they burned and ached as if she’d gone too long without blinking.
Stretching as she stood, Ari debated going home. Most people working in her immediate area had left hours ago and Sloane never came back after court.
Ari glanced at her stack of files. She’d gotten so caught up in Sloane’s case, she hadn’t prepped her bond hearings for the next morning. She would not hand over her files with sloppy notes scrawled over the front like other people did.
As a certified control freak, she hated that four days out of the week someone else represented her cases for her, but there was just no way to get through the slough of work if they all had to be in court all day for minor events. Plus, with just one judge in each division, they’d spend too much time waiting for their turn. Alternating this way was e cient, but still uncomfortable.
Tackling the stack, Ari typed up her position on each case and whether they would be extending a plea o er.
Anticipating contingencies, she also provided her reasoning for her decisions just in case Dave had to go o -script.
When she was finished, Ari opened her drawer looking for a bag of granola. Damn it. She’d eaten it for lunch.
Turning to the mini fridge with a prayer on her lips, Ari groaned when she came up empty there too. The lack of change in her purse made the vending machine a non-starter, so she gulped down some water hoping to keep hunger away until she was done.
Back in her chair, she decided to go through all the witnesses’ statements in Sloane’s case. Ari had only dealt with three witnesses in her case, but Sloane had nearly a dozen. If she could at least get a handle on those, she’d be in better shape to get more done tomorrow.
Who knew proving a stalking o ense would be so complicated?
“Dinner,” Sloane announced when she appeared in the doorway, startling her.
Ari whirled around, surprised and confused by her presence and the large, brown paper bag in her hand.
“What?”
Dressed in the same ivory suit she’d left in, Sloane dropped the bag on the shared part of their desk. Ari didn’t ask where she’d been even though she was immediately curious.
“Dinner,” Sloane repeated, over enunciating. “It’s traditionally a substantial meal consumed late in the day.”
Ari narrowed her eyes. “Hilarious.”
Sloane tore open the bag, unleashing the unmistakable fragrance of cooked cabbage. More specifically, the cabbage rolls from Harry’s Delicatessen. Her favorite.
Ari’s stomach grumbled in response. “How did you know I’d like this?”
Sloane rolled her eyes. “Because every time you eat it, our o ce smells like sulfur for like three days. It . . . leaves an impression.”
Accepting the Styrofoam container, Ari laughed to mask her embarrassment. “I know it smells heinous, but you have to try it, it’s literally life changing,” she said, her mouthwatering.
“I got a pastrami sandwich,” Sloane replied before producing two cold bottles of water out of her bag.
“Next question,” Ari said with a mouthful of delicious meat, cabbage, and tomato sauce. “How did you know I’d be here?”
Sharing the table, Sloane unwrapped her sandwich before ripping open a bag of kettle chips. “You didn’t tell Dave where you were leaving your files in the group chat,” she explained, signaling to the work cell they’d all been issued.
“I figured that meant you were still here.”
Ari took another bite. “What if I’d just forgotten to tell him? Were you going to let this deliciousness go to waste?”
Sloane glanced up at her before winking as she popped a chip into her mouth. “Guessing you were still here rather than blowing o your responsibility was the safe bet.”
The wink raised Ari’s body temp
erature several degrees.
“Wouldn’t you have been surprised if I was o gallivanting with some tall, dark, sexy stranger that swept me away from work,” she replied, giddy from the rush of nutrients to her body.
“I guess I would’ve had to find someone else who shares your enjoyment of . . . fragrant foods,” she snapped after swallowing.