Binding Hearts

Smoke and signals

Ryan walked into Cole & Hartman a little before ten, the familiar hum of the office greeting him like a second skin. The coffee in his hand was still hot, steam curling into the air as he nodded to the paralegals passing by. He hadn’t slept much, but adrenaline had a way of acting like a temporary miracle drug—especially after a big courtroom win.

He made his way to his office, past glass walls and busy associates, before stopping at Marcus’s desk.

"Morning, champ," Marcus said, looking up from his laptop. "Still basking in the post-victory glow, or have the withdrawal symptoms kicked in already?"

"Bit of both," Ryan muttered, taking a long sip from his coffee. "Any fallout from yesterday?"

"Nothing urgent. ChronoSpark's CEO sent a thank-you basket—which you missed because Joan confiscated it. Something about preserving your sugar levels."

Ryan laughed. "Sounds like her."

He stepped into his office and tossed his briefcase onto the leather couch. The skyline outside looked the same as always, but today, it shimmered a little differently. Victories did that—they colored everything just a shade brighter.

As he settled behind his desk, he heard a knock.

"Speak of the devil," he said, as Joan walked in carrying a file and a coffee of her own.

"You left this on the courtroom table yesterday," she said, placing the file on his desk. "Figured you’d want it before Marcus turned it into a coaster."

"You're too good to me."

"Don't remind me," she quipped. "I might start charging."

She lingered, leaning against the desk. Joan had always been easy to talk to, even before law school. There was a sharpness to her, but also a loyalty Ryan trusted without question.

"You alright?" he asked.

Joan shrugged. "Long night. Too much adrenaline, not enough whiskey."

Before he could respond, The door swung open with casual familiarity.

“Well, well,” Marcus said, striding in with a coffee tray and an annoyingly smug grin.

“Didn’t realize this was a private reunion. Should I have knocked?”

“You wouldn’t have,” Ryan replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Fair,” Marcus said, placing the coffees down. “But you could’ve given us a heads-up before you ghosted the celebration party. Right when things were getting good.”

Ryan didn’t miss the glint in Marcus’s eyes—or the pointed look he threw at him.

Joan glanced up briefly, hiding a smirk. “He left right before my ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ duet with Anderson. Coward.”

Ryan gave a slow shrug. “Didn’t feel like competing with Freddie Mercury’s ghost.”

“Or maybe you had... other plans,” Marcus said, dragging the words out playfully as he sat on the armrest of the couch. “Plans that had nothing to do with karaoke or whiskey.”

Ryan shot him a dry look, but his silence only added fuel to the fire.

Joan raised a brow, eyes flicking between them. “I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but I do,” Marcus said, turning fully to Ryan. “Let me guess. Starts with an ‘E,’ ends with ‘lyn’?”

Ryan gave him a lazy grin, not denying anything.

"Thought I'd drop in for my daily dose of sarcasm and s****l tension."

Joan rolled her eyes, but Ryan caught the subtle smile she tried to hide.

"Marcus," Ryan said, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Tell me you’re not here just to waste my time."

"Not at all. I come bearing updates and maybe a question."

Joan raised an eyebrow. "A question? That sounds dangerous."

Marcus took the open seat beside her, pulling out his phone. "First, good news. Blake filed a motion to delay next week’s proceedings, but the judge denied it. We're moving forward on schedule."

"Perfect," Ryan said, tapping his pen against the desk. "And the question?"

Marcus turned slightly toward Joan, his grin shifting just a notch softer.

"Dinner. With me. Friday night. You in?"

Joan blinked.

Ryan tried to suppress his reaction but ended up leaning back slightly, curious to see how she’d respond.

"Wow," she said slowly. "That was... direct."

"You inspire boldness," Marcus said with a wink.

"Or foolishness," she replied, standing abruptly. "Nice try, Marcus, but I don’t date men who flirt with everyone in the building. Including the janitor."

"Hey," Marcus said, holding up a hand. "That janitor has a killer smile. But I was serious. Just dinner."

Joan shook her head, the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "You’re always serious. Until you’re not."

With that, she walked out, leaving a trail of perfume and confusion in her wake.

Marcus watched her go, then turned back to Ryan. "She hates me."

"She doesn’t," Ryan said with a knowing smirk. "She just doesn’t trust what she feels."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you get good at reading feelings?"

Ryan stood, grabbing the file Joan had brought. "Since I started ignoring my own. It helps you see other people’s more clearly."

"That sounds depressing."

"It is. Now get back to work."

Marcus grinned and left, whistling a familiar tune.

---

The day passed in a series of meetings, calls, and legal strategies. Ryan found himself distracted more than once—not just by the court case, but by Evelyn. He hadn’t seen her since the rooftop. They’d exchanged a few texts, but he knew something had shifted that night. They had stood on the edge of something important... and then he’d had to walk away.

Later that afternoon, Joan dropped by again.

"I wanted to say thanks," she said, standing in the doorway.

"For what?"

"Not making it weird. With Marcus."

Ryan chuckled. "You handled that just fine on your own."

She rolled her eyes, stepping inside. "He drives me insane. Always joking, always smiling like nothing ever touches him."

"He likes you, you know."

"That’s exactly the problem. He likes everyone. He’s charming and funny, and when you look at him for too long, you start to forget he’s unreliable."

Ryan studied her carefully. "But you don’t forget."

"I can’t afford to," she said quietly. "Not again."

There it was. Not said outright, but heavy in the air between them.

"He’s not like the last one, Joan."

She looked away. "Let’s hope not."

They stood there in silence for a moment, the noise of the office outside muffled like distant waves.

Finally, she turned. "Anyway, I should prep for the Hartman meeting. See you at six?"

"Wouldn’t miss it."

As she walked away, Ryan sat back and exhaled. The people around him were all tangled in their own battles, all fighting wars no one else could see. And somehow, amidst all that chaos, they kept showing up.

Just like he would.

Even when the lines between law and life kept blurring.