“It’s fine. Really,” he said. The elevator stopped at their floor, and they both stepped out. “I mean, we both knew this was going to run its course eventually, right?”

There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but then she smiled. “Right. Absolutely.” She gestured. “After all, you have your laundry list of thirtysomething commitment angst.”

“And you have . . . what was it again?” He rubbed his jaw, as if trying to remember. “‘Self-selected out of the happily-ever-after rat race,’ was it? No obligations, expectations, or endgame of a marriage, two-point-five kids, and a minivan in the suburbs.”

She laughed. “I really laid it on thick that night, didn’t I?”

“Oh, there was quite a speech.”

They reached her door. When she turned to face him, he took his keys out of the pocket of his workout shorts and gave her a soft smile, one that she returned. And as they stood there, looking at each other, on that doorstep where they’d first met and also had their first kiss, they both understood exactly what this moment was.

Closure.

“Good night, Victoria.”

Her voice was soft. “Good night, Ford.”

He left her standing there and turned toward his own place. When he heard her front door shut, he briefly closed his eyes.

And kept right on walking.

Thirty

THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY, one of Victoria’s associates, Nadia, rushed into Victoria’s office with an excited smile.

“Got a question for you,” she said. “I’m in the middle of the Ciotta deposition, and he just said that he recorded some phone calls between his wife and her co-worker, trying to find out if there was anything ‘flirty’ going on between them. When I asked, he admitted that neither his wife nor the co-worker knew that he was recording them.” She cocked her head. “Isn’t that wiretapping without consent? Did the guy actually just admit on the record that he committed a crime? Can we use that as leverage against him?”

Victoria considered this. “Maybe. If that does constitute an illegal wiretapping.”

“And does it?”

Victoria smiled. “No clue. But I agree it’s worth looking into. How long before you have to get back to the dep?”

Nadia checked her watch. “Two minutes.”

Hearing that, Victoria got down to business. “All right. Here’s what you’re going to do: grab Joaquin and explain the situation. Tell him I said to start his research with People versus Melongo. I know that the Illinois Supreme Court recently struck down the state eavesdropping law as overbroad, but I’m not sure how the case law has shaken out since then. That’s the first thing we need to figure out. And tell him to also check into whether there’s any kind of exception if the eavesdropper owns the phone line on which one of the parties was talking—like some kind of implied consent.”

“Got it.”

“When you get back to the dep, don’t mention the wiretap issue yet,” Victoria said. “Take another break in forty-five minutes, and then you, Joaquin, and I will discuss whether we have a move here. Sound good?”

Nadia nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”

Moments later, Will walked into her office. “I’m going to Perry’s for lunch. Do you want me to pick up your usual?”

Always a lifesaver, this man. “That would be great—thank you. And keep my schedule clear at one o’clock. I’ll need fifteen minutes to meet with Nadia and Joaquin.”

The rest of the afternoon was nonstop, between advising Nadia and finalizing a marital settlement agreement in one of Victoria’s own cases. It was after seven o’clock when she finally got home, stripped out of her suit, and changed into jeans and a flowy, sleeveless shirt. Luckily, she had a quiet evening planned. She’d probably just rent a movie since her trusty e-reader had been failing her as of late—nothing she read seemed to grab her attention these days.

After unpacking her briefcase, she realized she’d forgotten to check her mailbox on the way up. Sticking her keys into her back pocket, she headed down the hallway and waited for the elevator while scrolling through all the work e-mails she needed to catch up on over the weekend.

Ding!

As the elevator doors opened, she looked up from her phone and saw Ford standing inside.

With an attractive blond woman next to him.

It took Victoria a moment to find her voice. “Hi.”

“Victoria—hi.” He smiled awkwardly at her while holding the elevator door open for the blonde, who gave Victoria a polite hello as she stepped out.

Ford followed the blonde out of the elevator, then—always the gentleman—he held the door open for Victoria, too.

“Thanks.” She stepped inside, and then turned around and looked at Ford.

As their eyes met, the elevator doors slid shut between them.

Swallowing, Victoria pushed the button for the ground floor. Then she looked up as the elevator descended.

Her lip began to tremble.

Shit.

Her stomach rolled. Covering her mouth, the instant the elevator doors opened she bolted out and pushed through the front door. She ran straight to the alley behind her building and dry-heaved while holding on to the brick wall with one hand.

Afterward, she leaned against the wall, catching her breath.

She couldn’t go back to her place. She couldn’t risk that she would hear them laughing, or—God—hear the bed squeaking or banging against the wall, or the blonde moaning his name, or worst of all, Ford moaning as some other woman touched him, kissed him, stroked him, and figured out all the ways to drive him crazy, like Victoria once had.

She pushed herself off the brick wall and started walking.

Several people passing by on the sidewalk did a double take when they saw her. Victoria ignored all the looks, for once not giving a shit what anyone else thought. Seven blocks later, she walked into Rachel’s boutique shop, ringing the chime on the door.

Standing behind the counter while tagging a dress, Rachel looked over. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Victoria, what happened? Are you okay?”

Victoria caught sight of her reflection in the mirror behind Rachel. Thick black rivulets of mascara streamed down her face, mixing with her tears.

She gave her friend a wry smile. “I think it’s safe to say I’m definitely not okay.”

* * *

AUDREY ARRIVED AT the shop ten minutes later with a bottle of bourbon in hand.