In open court, Damon did not work this hard.
Rebecca looked mortified. My father was a thundercloud. I wanted to ask Damon what, exactly, his game was. Not in front of the audience.
Ten minutes later I was striding out the front door with Rebecca at my heels.
The car stayed quiet. I scrolled through the new files Meredith had pushed me from the dinner hour, eyes on the city lights smearing past the window. When the car eased to the curb in front of Rebecca's address, I was relieved enough to loosen my tie.
I said good night.
She climbed out.
Then, two steps away, she turned back.
"Do you hate me, Damian?"
I lifted my eyes.
"I know you're engaged," she said, a careful little smile in place. "I'm not interested in attaching myself to the famous Voss brothers. The last few years have
