We stand there in awkward silence, taking in each other’s appearance. I have no reference for what I’m supposed to do here. What is the protocol? Should I let him in? I should let him in.

Opening the door wider, I wave him inside. “Come in.”

Leo’s gaze stays glued to me until he passes. He stops abruptly just inside the door. “You have a cat.”

I close the door. “That’s Oliver. He’s not really my cat. He just lives here.”

“Cora.” His voice is soft with shock. “Is that Cassandra’s cat?”

“I found him outside her apartment a few days…after. No one wanted him, I guess.”

Leo leans against the door, looking at me like he just can’t believe me. I don’t know where to look or what to do. Somewhere behind me I know Oliver is staring at me the same way Leo is.

Leo reaches for one of my hands, untwisting it from the bouquet that I’m practically crushing. “You took him in.”

“It’s more like he lets me feed him.”

He puts a hand to my cheek and leans in to kiss me. He smells good. So good. I close my eyes and kiss him back.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he says, as he ends the kiss. “But you constantly surprise me.”

I can’t tell from his tone if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“That dress.” He steps back and studies me again, with that same kind of glazed look in his eyes. “Wow.”

“I should put these in some water.” I untangle myself from him, needing some distance. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to compliments.

Oliver flicks his tail and walks away. He’s not happy with me. I’m going to pay for this later, probably with a regurgitated furball on my pillow.

Leo takes a short stroll around my apartment. Such as it is. I was lucky to find this converted garage. It’s small, but it suits my purposes. I take care of the main house when the owners go out of town. In exchange, I pay next to nothing in rent. He stops to examine a photo of Beau and me that was taken just before Cassandra was killed. It’s my favorite pic of the two of us. I can see who we used to be before and I can almost remember how it felt.

I don’t have a vase, so I put the flowers in a blue jar I got at a garage sale and set them on my little dining table. They look pretty. I finger a petal. These are the first flowers I’ve ever gotten from a guy. How sad that is.

“Are you ready?”

No, I’m not ready. I still think this is a really bad idea on every level. But there’s so much expectation in Leo’s face I feel like I can’t let him down. Smoothing the front of my dress, I decide that I’ll see how tonight goes. It’s just one night. I can give him one night.

“Sure.”

He walks me to his car and holds open the door for me. His hands are a little shaky and I wonder if he’s anywhere near as nervous as me. That’s not possible. He’s probably been on hundreds of dates. I don’t hold that or his prior relationship with Savannah against him. He doesn’t owe me anything. It’s not like we’re a couple, anyway. We’re…I don’t know what we are. Whatever it is, it’s just for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll go back to the way things were.

Even as I tell myself this, I don’t believe it. I can’t imagine going back, and the truth is I don’t want to.

Chapter 12 Leo

Ho-ly. Shit.

I’m trying really hard to act cool, but Cora in that dress is killing me. When she opened the door I thought my head was going to explode. She did something with her hair—piling it on top of her head—making everything about her softer somehow. And her eyes, that intense, drop-me-to-my-knees blue, pinned me where I stood. I thought she was pretty before, but I was wrong. She is absolutely without a doubt the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

And she’s going out with me.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked her out on this date. All I know is that she is so far out of my league and she doesn’t even know it. I steal another glance at her. I’ve been sneaking looks at her all night. I’m not the only one. Every guy we pass gives her the once-over, making me want to punch him in the face. If I’m not holding her hand, I touch her back or her shoulder to signal that she’s mine.

Except she isn’t, really. We’re on this date, attempting to have a good time, but I can tell her mind isn’t entirely on what’s happening at our small table in the corner of the restaurant. I figure she’ll break sometime before the waiter comes to take our order and ask me what happened with Beau. What her brother is going through is as much a part of her as the blue of her eyes. I have to accept that. He’s the other person at the table with us. The invisible uninvited guest. Everything she does is a means to the end of freeing her brother. Even this date we’re on is part of it. I don’t kid myself that she agreed to go out with me because she wanted to. I’m holding information she wants.

She lays her menu down and I know this is it. She’s going to ask me about Beau. We can’t have anything that’s just ours.

She takes a quick sip of water. “I hear you play baseball.”

I stare at her for a moment. What?

“You used to play with my friend Jamie Osborne’s brother Matt.”

“Yeah.”

She fiddles with her water glass. “What position do you play?”

“Pitcher. Or I did. I don’t play anymore.”

“Oh.”

“How do you know Jamie?”

“We’ve been friends a long time. Since elementary school.”

“So you know Matt.”

“He tried to make me eat a bug once.” She has a hint of a smile, so I know this is a good memory. “I got him back by putting snails in his bed.”

“That sounds like him. Good for you for getting him back.”

“Do you ever miss it? Playing baseball?”

“Sometimes. I’m too busy now with law school. It was fun while it lasted.”

“What kind of law do you want to practice?”

At every turn she catches me off guard. This is such a normal, first-date kind of conversation I’m having trouble believing I’m having it with Cora.

“I want to work for the district attorney’s office here in San Diego.”

“You want to put people like Beau in prison?” Her tone takes a dangerous turn.

“I want to put guilty people in prison.”

“How can you be sure they’re one hundred percent guilty? I’m sure the DA who prosecuted my brother thought she was doing the right thing. Especially when she asked the judge for the death penalty.”

I’m in deep shit here, with no way out. I should’ve seen this coming. “I won’t be like that.”

“Why a prosecutor and not a public defender? The system could use a hell of a lot more good public defenders. I know Beau could’ve used one.” Angry, she holds up a finger. “Just one.”

“I can’t undo what was done to your brother, but I can make sure that every case I prosecute is a good one.”

She sits back in her seat and glares at me. She hates me now, I can see it. I’m lumped in with the asshole who sent her brother to prison. I have to find a way to convince her I’m not the enemy. I can do more good on the prosecutor’s side than the defender’s side. I know this. I have to make her know this.

“Cora, you should know me well enough by now to know that I will be better than the DA who sent your brother to prison.”

“You say that now and maybe you mean it, but when you’ve got a hundred and fifty cases that you’re expected to close with a conviction or a plea deal, you cut corners to do it. Did you know that close to seventy-five percent of all wrongful convictions are due to official misconduct, including prosecutors?”

“That’s not going to be me. Someone has to put away the bad guys, Cora, and I want to be one of the people who do that. They can’t be allowed loose in our society to perpetrate again and again.”