Optimistic. Now there was a word I never used. “How am I going to pay for this?”
“You’re not. I’ll handle the appeal for nothing. If we’re successful, you’ll sue the state for wrongful imprisonment, and they’ll settle. My office will earn a cut of the settlement, and that money will go back into our pro bono pool.”
“That sounds like a better deal than I’d get anywhere else. So I guess we’re done here for now?”
He looked amused. “You didn’t ask me what a guy gets paid for wrongful imprisonment.”
I shrugged. “If it comes to that, I figure you’ll let me know. I’m not in this for the money.”
“That’s a good attitude.” The lawyer stood up. “But if we’re successful, it could change your life. You could go back to school or buy a house.”
A house. I liked the sound of that. “Thank you for helping me.” I bussed my empty water bottles into his recycling bin.
“Are you kidding? This is going to be fun.” He rubbed his hands together. “When you see May Shipley, tell her she owes me a coffee date.”
“I will.”
After I left the lawyer’s office I called Sophie immediately. “How’s my girl today?”
“I’m good. Mom is on the plane to Virginia.” She’d gone to stay with her sister. “So if any hot guys wanted to come over for dinner, I’d be available.”
To her house? Now there was a first. “I just happen to know a guy who’s free for dinner.”
“Tell him to get over here, then.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sophie
Internal DJ playing: Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”
Waking up in my bed with Jude the next morning made me as happy as I’d ever been. We’d waited a long time for this moment of true peace, with the sunrise turning my curtains from pink to orange and then yellow. We lay curled together, his chest against my back, his arm around my waist.
It was perfect. In fact it was so perfect that he decided to shift me onto my back and drop kisses on my bare breasts.
“Good morning,” I whispered as he began to suck sweetly on my right nipple.
“Mmm,” he agreed.
I moved my hand to his tousled hair and sighed. “We’re living out my high school fantasies right now. I always wanted to have you in my bed.”
He released me with a wet pop. “It’s the best thing ever,” he mumbled, turning his attention to my other boob.
“It could only be better if my father knew,” I pointed out. “He’d die to know you were naked in my bed.”
“Gonna be naked in some other places in a minute,” he said as his fingers coasted down my body.
“You’re insatiable,” I said, though it was a false complaint. I’d never felt so desirable.
“I could blame three years of incarceration,” he said, licking my hipbone. “But it’s really just you.”
Swoon! “Get over here, then.”
“When I’m ready,” he said in a bossy tone.
But when he glanced up at me, I got a smile—a hundred watts and then some.
*
After that first-rate beginning to my morning, it was time to prepare for my big meeting at the hospital. Mr. Norse had been kind enough to push the meeting back three days due to my father’s arrest. He pushed back Denny’s meeting, too.
Now I’d have to face the music, which intimidated me. So I put on a real suit, a silk blouse and heels.
“Dayum,” Jude teased me from the kitchen table. “I’d hire you.”
“You’re biased. And I’ve dressed this way only because I want to be fired in style.”
“That’s the spirit.”
I flipped him off, but then smiled, ruining the effect. The sight of him shirtless at my kitchen table was pretty uplifting. I hoped my mother stayed in Virginia for a little while so I could see it again. “Let’s make coffee.”
Jude pointed at the machine. “I started it already.”
“I could get used to this.”
He grinned.
*
At nine sharp I walked into Norse’s office and took a seat across from him.
“How are you holding up?” he asked. “I would have given you more time, but…”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “The department can’t wait for my family soap opera to play out.”
He gave me a sympathetic look. “Then I’ll cut right to the chase. You’ve impressed us, Sophie.”
A but was coming. I could hear it.
He cleared his throat. “Sophie, there’s something I need to ask you, and it’s not an easy topic of conversation.” He pushed a folder toward me. “I need you to tell me your involvement with a request for a bed in an inpatient drug treatment program our office received in May. Please take a look at this file.”
“Okay?” I had no idea what case he might be talking about. So I took the folder and flipped open its cover. On top was a letter—one page—on the letterhead from the state prison.