I had hired her as a part-time paralegal/assistant last year after our last paralegal up and quit after eloping with some guy she met on the internet. After a month of not being able to find a suitable replacement, Lena suggested she take the job. She needed the money, and the experience would be invaluable as she entered her final year of law school. Unsurprisingly she had proven to be the best-damned assistant I’d ever had.
Though I sure as shit would never tell her that.
Even though she was four years younger, she acted as though she were the older sibling. Plus, she was bossy as hell, and any compliment fed her ego in ways that made her completely insufferable.
She sat down on one of the leather chairs on the opposite side of my desk, stretching out her legs, a pile of folders balanced in her lap. She and I had always been told how much we looked alike. There was no question we were related. We shared the same dark hair, blue eyes, and dimple in our right cheek.
I fired up my laptop, opening my email, wishing she’d go away so I could get into my day. The canceled meeting freed up an hour. I planned to use the time to work on the Garrick deposition, which was proving more difficult than I had anticipated.
“Let it go, Lena. I don’t want to talk about it,” I retorted testily.
“I can’t believe you,” she said with a sigh.
“What are you talking about?” I braced myself for the inevitable shitstorm aimed my way.
“You are such an idiot. Ugh.”
“Excuse me?” I made myself busy opening emails, barely reading them.
Here it came…
“You were with mega-bitch. That’s why you look like something the cat dragged in. You only ever have that someone-ate-my-soul look after you’ve been with her.” Lena crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
“No, why would you—?” I started to deny it, then stopped myself. There was no point. I scowled at Lena. “Okay, yes. Chelsea came by this morning. She didn’t stay long. End of story.”
My not-so-little sister crunched up a ball of paper and tossed it at my face. “You slept with her. Do you want an STD? Seriously, have some self-respect, man.”
I sat back in my chair, scrubbing my hands over my face. “It was a one-time thing. A stupid mistake—”
“Your entire marriage was a stupid mistake.” Her words stung because they were true. “You reek of shame.” She shook her head sadly. “You disappoint me, big brother.”
I blew out a noisy breath. “It wasn’t my finest hour, Lena. But it didn’t mean anything. I’m not getting back with her. It’s over,” It felt important to say the words out loud. I’d tattoo it on my fucking forehead if necessary.
“Does she know that? Mega-bitch isn’t exactly known for being quick on the uptake.”
Lena had never liked Chelsea. It started the first time I brought Chelsea home after a date, and my obtuse soon-to-be-ex had accidentally knocked a soda all over Lena’s dog-eared copy of Nancy Drew and The Hidden Staircase. Lena’s favorite book had been ruined. Chelsea had never apologized either, which only added insult to injury.
“It’s just a book. Can’t you watch the movie or something?” Chelsea had asked with a shrug when Lena had gotten upset. Lena’s opinion of her was set in stone after that.
That should have been my first clue that any relationship with Chelsea was destined for failure. It all went downhill from there. Lena never hid her dislike of my ex. Her barbs were numerous and pointed. But the feeling was mutual. Chelsea’s default reaction to any good-looking woman was immediate loathing. And my lovely sister was an instant threat, even at ten years old.
“I don’t want to talk about Chelsea,” I replied tersely.
Lena clicked her tongue. “Fine. But when she boils a bunny in your kitchen, I’ll be the first to say I told you so.”
I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, sis.”
The door pushed open, and a well-tailored man with perfectly groomed black hair and an I-had-sex-for-breakfast expression waltzed into the room.
“Adam, there you are. The Taylor interview was bumped up to eleven. Can you head over to the precinct a bit early?” my partner Jeremy Wyatt asked without so much as a hello. He wasn’t the kind of guy to waste time on pleasantries. He came up short when he saw Lena in the chair, his face transforming from serious to charming in two seconds flat. “Good morning, Marlena. You look well-rested this morning.” He was the only person alive, besides my mother, who dared to call Lena by her given name. And even though she threatened him with varying degrees of bodily harm for using it, he continued to do so. Mostly to annoy her. And it worked.