They can see it.
Whatever this is between us, it’s visible. Obvious.
I should be mortified.
I’m too turned on to care.
Mr. Harrison finally sits down, looking pleased.
“Cross-examination,” the judge says.
The defense attorney, DeLuca, stands. Silver-haired. Expensive suit. Smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ms. Reeves,” he says, and there’s something predatory in it. “You were three tables away from my client when this incident occurred. Is that correct?”
“Yes.” My voice is fractured now.
“Three tables. In a busy restaurant. And yet you claim to remember every detail with perfect clarity.”
“I have a good memory.”
“Do you?” He picks up a paper. “Your statement to police indicates the incident happened ‘very fast.’ Quote: ‘so fast I almost missed it.’ Does that sound like someone who observed every detail?”
I chance a look at Dario.
He’s leaning forward slightly. Watching DeLuca like he’s considering murder number two.
My pussy has thoughts about protective Dario.
Dario must hear those thoughts. His tongue peeks out just a touch.
“It did happen fast,” I manage. “But I still saw it.”
I shift. Christ one more look, one more move, and I’ll…
“Or you think you saw it.” DeLuca’s circling. “Ms. Reeves, how much wine had you consumed that evening?”
“Objection,” Mr. Harrison says. “Relevance?”
“Goes to the witness’s ability to accurately observe, Your Honor.”
“I’ll allow it.”
“One glass,” I say. “I had one glass of wine.”
“Just one? The server indicates you ordered a second.”
“I ordered it. I didn’t finish it.”
Dario’s hands tighten on the table. I track the movement. Watch his knuckles go white.
I want those hands on me so badly I can barely think straight.
“But you had been drinking,” DeLuca continues. “And isn’t it true, Ms. Reeves, that you had been watching my client for fifteen minutes before any incident occurred?”
Oh god.
Here it comes.
