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fee.”
    She leaned forward, her face folding in a scowl. “What the hell for? That store is rich as Rockefeller, they’ll pay out, and then you’ll get your money. I’m an old woman. I’m injured, I can’t afford a retainer!”
    Brendan sighed quietly. Deidra Heffernan was claiming to have slipped on talcum powder in the beauty aisle of Telford’s Pharmacy. According to her, the powder had fallen to the floor and broken free of its container, and since no one at the store had cleaned up the mess, it was still there when she made her way down the aisle and stepped on it, causing her to fall down and twist her knee. Brendan suspected she emptied the powder onto the floor herself. But no one had seen her do it. She’d been stealthily positioned to obstruct the security cameras. 
    He began pulling pages out of a folder and setting them on the desk before her. “1981, slip and fall at Wendell’s Diner. 1989, slip and fall in the bathroom of Foley’s Department Store. 1995, slip and fall at Sal’s Donut Shop. 2004, slip and fall in the Providence bus terminal.”
    “What’s your point? It’s not my fault these places leave dangerous stuff all over the floor to trip me up!”
    “Of course not,” Brendan said. “But if I’ve discovered your previous lawsuits, then Telford’s lawyers are going to find them, too. It’s going to make you look like a fraud. And we’re most likely going to lose. So if you want to proceed with the case...” He slapped the page with her newest claim down before her. “Then I’ll have to ask for a retainer.”
    She stood, grabbing her cane. “You’re just a little boy . I wouldn’t pay you a dime! I’ll find a real lawyer. A man who knows what he’s doing!”
    “Good luck with that.” Brendan smiled. “Terry Ann can show you out.”
    She limped dramatically toward the door. “I can find my own damn way out!”
    Minutes after she left his office, Terry Ann peeked her head in, her green eyes wide. “She didn’t look happy.”
    “No.” He rubbed his temples. “She wasn’t.”
    And neither was Brendan. He’d been trying to fight his way out of a funk all week, ever since Friday night. When he’d slept with someone’s fiancé. He’d tried to shake it off, telling himself it was fine, he wasn’t looking for attachments. He’d been attracted to someone, had a roll in the hay, and now it was behind him.
    Or it would be, if he could only stop stewing about it. After Marc had dropped that particular bomb on Brendan’s head, he’d said nothing further. Beyond repeating that he was sorry. Humiliated, Brendan had finished dressing and quickly left the apartment. He kept telling himself he had no right to be hurt. He’d been promised nothing. He’d taken a risk. Risks were...well, risky.
    At least he knew one thing for certain now. He most definitely was bisexual. It was the most erotic experience he’d ever had, and he couldn’t stop the flashbacks that invaded his mind in quiet moments. The kissing, mostly. He’d never been kissed like that before.
    So big deal, he was enlightened about his own sexuality. But now the only person he could imagine being sexual with was beyond his reach. Fucking engaged . 
    Why had Marc bothered telling Brendan he was engaged? He could have just told him to piss off and left it at that. Why did he confess? It was driving Brendan bonkers. He had to stop thinking about it. It was distracting him from his work.
    “You okay, boss man?”
    He looked up, having forgotten that Terry Ann was in the room. “Oh yeah, fine. Everything all right out front?”
    “Yeah, we’re good. Got some appointments in today, I’ll send them on to you.”
    “Good. Thanks. Oh, so our charming Miss Heffernan,” he slapped the folder closed, “will not be coming back. She’s made a fortune over the years by being decidedly clumsy. I knew if I asked her for money up front she’d bail. Christ, I hate these cases, and I’m no good at them. People coming in