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place in the firm had been secured. But I never would have been hired in the first place without Mitchell’s support.
    “Your money is still in a blind trust?” Old habits die hard. From the time we first met, he’s tried to keep me on the straight and narrow, so he asks that question regularly, to make sure I don’t mess up.
    “Where else would it be?” Legal ethics require I don’t invest in any business associated with the firm. So to keep from getting into a conflict of interest, I placed the money I made playing the stock market in college into a blind trust that earns hundreds of thousands a year, so I’m not hurting for money. But without Mitchell I never would have learned how to invest in the first place.
    “With your financial savvy, Trenton, I never understood why you didn’t work as an investment banker. You could have made millions.”
    Biting into a succulent slice of the steak, I smirk. “I have made millions.”
    “You could have run your own investment firm.”
    I shake my head. “I never wanted to manage other people’s money. Only my own. Now I don’t even get to do that.” I lift a shoulder. Once I’d figured out how to make money off the stock market, it’d become less of a challenge. Defense law, on the other hand, is another thing entirely. You never know the outcome. Too many variables involved. “But I do get to defend those who can’t afford decent legal representation.”
    “As well as those who are guilty as sin,” Mitch says. Even though he understands what drives me to represent those charged with a crime, he’s never cottoned to my practicing criminal law. He’s much more comfortable advising clients, which he’d done when he worked at the firm. In his current job as the head of the Investment Management Division of the SEC, he deals with the same issues, albeit from the government side.
    “Who amongst us isn’t, Mitchell? Haven’t you done your share of sinning? I know I have.” Last night after the cocktail party, I’d visited the delectable Selena. I owed her after canceling our date because of Bernie’s arrest. But burying myself in her heat did nothing for me. My heart hadn’t been in it. Not anymore. All I could think about was another face, a much younger one, with dark hair and pansy-blue eyes. After we fucked, I’d left Selena’s bed and headed home. I don’t think I’ll see her again.
    “So anything new on the horizon?” he asks.
    “A trip to North Carolina to visit Willie Vaughn.”
    “The death row inmate?”
    “Yes. His case is finally coming up on appeal. Holden asked me to take Madrigal.”
    His fork clatters to his plate. “Why?”
    “I told you. He’s hoping that she’ll switch sides. Plus, Willie’s case plays right into her wheelhouse. She’ll be able to apply what she knows.” I might not be totally on board with her tagging along, but the case will be a great learning experience for her.
    Resting against the back of his chair, he studies me. “You’ve changed so much since you were a kid. Sometimes I forget how far you’ve come.”
    I may object to his interfering and questioning of my career choices, but I owe him much. So I lift my wine goblet to him in acknowledgment of everything he’s done for me. “Thanks to you.”
    He clinks his water glass with mine. “And Holden. He took a chance when most partners wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”
    “Including Slayton.”
    “Most especially him.”
    After dinner, I head to my condo in Crystal City with its breathtaking view of the nation’s capital. Ditching my suit, I slip into a pair of silk pajama pants and a robe and pour a glass of my best Chardonnay. The night is clear, the moon’s full, so I let my mind drift back to those childhood days. Dinner with Mitchell always brings back painful memories. I suppose it’s the price I have to pay for the good he did me. A snotty-nosed kid from one of the worst sections in the city, I was a fourteen-year-old badass,