Donovan
I sat at my desk with a business card between my fingers, turning it over and over, lost in thought. I didn’t even notice that Juliette had walked in until she planted her ass in one of my chairs.
“Tu en fais une tête,” she said.
“Nah. I’m not in the mood for a handjob. Thanks anyway.”
She laughed. “Why the long face, my friend?”
“Just thinking about a case.”
Juliette was originally from France, but we’d started as summer interns at the firm together, along with Trent and twelve others. The three of us had been the only ones hired that fall, and we’d been tight ever since. She and Trent spent a lot of time talking about their love lives, or lack of, usually—analyzing why their relationships never seemed to work out. I’d comment and give my opinions, but it wasn’t often that w
