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we are going to, unless you plan to kick me out now.”
                  Cass shook her head at his naivety.  “I’m not going to kick you out.  The staying is fine.  The people knowing isn’t.  This is a small town, Reed, and you and I represent very different parts of the populace.  If people here knew we were together like this, it could ruin you.”
                  “You don’t really believe that, do you?  It’s not the 1950’s, Cass.  Even Gresham County has to move forward sometime.”
                  Cass looked him straight in the eye, “I’m not kidding about this, Reed.  I’ll work for you.  We can carry on behind closed doors all you want.  But we are not going to be seen together.  I am not going to be responsible for ruining your chances to succeed here.”
                  Reed didn’t like it.  He hated it in fact, but Cass was hardheaded and convincing her otherwise would take time.  Rather than start a fight he couldn’t win, he gave her a brief nod.  “Fine, I’ll cook breakfast in the morning.”
                  Cass sighed with relief and settled down to sleep, resting her head on his chest and feeling that for the first time in a long time, things were looking up. 

CHAPTER THREE
                  Reed exited the courtroom feeling vaguely disgusted by the deals that had been struck.  In small towns, specializing in only one brand of law wasn’t really an option, and criminal cases were few and far between, unless one counted the petty variety.  But of late, he felt like he’d been drawing the worst of the lot.  Shaking off that thought, he glanced at his watch, noting that it was still shy of four o’clock which meant Cass would still be in the office when he got there.  He smiled, thinking about convincing her to get naked on his desk again.  Cass Blakely was quickly becoming an addiction and he was more than fine with that.
                  Stepping out onto the front porch of the courthouse, Reed hadn’t quite reached the steps when a familiar raspy voice called out to him.  He turned to see Rowena leaning against one of the large white pillars bearing a no smoking sign, a lit cigarette dangling from between her lips. 
                  “Good afternoon, counselor.”
                  “Ms. Blakely,” he replied evenly. 
                  Rowena let out a rusty cackle, “Ha!  Considering how intimately you and my daughter know one another, that’s a bit formal between us, wouldn’t you say?”
                  Reed felt the anger bubbling up inside him, but he didn’t take the bait.  Rowena hadn’t been a mother to Cass.  She’d been a drunken disaster, bringing in one predatory man after the next.  He could remember one incident in particular.  Cass couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve to his fifteen.  A hairy, drunken sot wearing nothing but boxer shorts and sporting a hard on had stumbled out of their trailer shouting for Cass to stop hiding, to come on back home because he’d just been teasing her.  A muffled sob had caught his attention and he’d turned to see Cass hiding behind a paw-paw tree growing near their porch.  It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out what had nearly happened.  It had been his mother, though, who had come to the rescue.  She’d marched out onto the porch with her shotgun trained right on him and had told him he’d either leave willingly, or with an extra hole or two for his trouble. 
                  “I wouldn’t say your relationship with your daughter, or lack thereof, has any bearing on how I choose to address you.”
                  “So proper... always, so proper.  Just like your Mama!  Your daddy wasn’t that proper.  He might have worked two jobs, but when the weekend rolled around, Lan Harrison knew how to party,” she said