Lincoln was making a name for himself. He was already moving up into the big time. Talk was buzzing around the city that he was a shoe-in to be the next U.S. attorney for the New Orleans region. Wood was the figurehead in charge of the Castille cases, but the news stories always quoted Lincoln and Jonesy. They were on the front lines, scrapping it out in court on a daily basis, fighting to keep the pressure on many of my former clients.
Castille had fallen quickly. Once Vinnie jettisoned him, the prick caved and accepted a plea deal. He turned state’s evidence and was Lincoln’s star witness. I might have been a wanted woman, but Castille couldn’t walk outside without fearing a sniper bullet.
Even though I kept up, I was far removed. New Orleans was my home now. I felt like there was a piece of Lincoln here that I could keep close. And the city was big enough so that we’d never cross paths. I referred out any federal cases and stuck to the state courts. That all but guaranteed we’d never meet. Making sure I never saw him again hurt like a bitch. Even so, this was the way it had to be. I had to let him go, for his own good, more than anything else. That’s what I told myself, anyway, on the warm afternoons that turned into twilight as I sat in my creaky porch swing and watched the streetcars roll by.
Lincoln wasn’t here with me, but I still felt him. He was in my heart for good and always, even though I’d resigned myself to living without him. Somehow, I was less lonely knowing he was out there somewhere.
I actually ran into Kennedy at the state courthouse once. I thought it was Lincoln at first, standing with his back to me. My heart leaped, and I fought the urge to run to him, to just throw my papers down and jump into his arms in front of the clerk’s office. Then Kennedy turned toward me and I saw the deep brown of his eyes and his high cheekbones that were a perfect match to Wash’s. I knew instinctively that he and Lincoln were brothers, both men tall, handsome, and built solid. Kennedy was gorgeous, but not the one my heart sought. He gave me a rakish wink before stepping into the clerk’s office and out of sight. It took me a few weeks to recover from that day. Even now, I still wished it had been Lincoln standing there.
Would Lincoln even know me now that I’d dyed my hair blond and changed my ways? Now that I wasn’t the bad bitch? Well, maybe I was still a little bad, but nothing like my former glory. I had flipped the coin, choosing the shiny side for once and for all. I would never slide back down into the pit of fear that had ruled my life for far too long. I sometimes imagined Lincoln would have been proud of my choices.
Honestly, I would have spent all my time imagining the life I could have had with him. But it hurt too much. So I buried myself in my work, and for the first time, I actually felt rewarded after a long day at the office. That odd feeling let me know I was doing the right thing. I often wondered if the right thing would ever come naturally to me again, the way it did to Lincoln.
I forced myself to stop thinking about him—something I had to do multiple times a day, like popping my wrist with a rubber band.
I relaxed my legs, letting them slide and catch down the surface of the pleather with a rubbery squeak. No luxurious top-grain leather here, no sir. My stomach rumbled. It was already lunchtime.
Carol buzzed my phone. “Your noon appointment is here.”
I maneuvered from the couch and arranged my blouse and skirt before realizing I never set noon appointments. “Wait, Carol, I have an appointment right now?”
“Yes, ma’am. I set it yesterday when you were in that deposition.”
Ugh. “Try not to set anything at lunch again. I’m starving.”
“Sorry, Ms. Angel. I’ll run out and grab us some lunch while you’re in the meeting. It’ll be waiting for you when you get back to your desk.”
Now, that was a good save. “Thanks, Carol.”
I checked myself in the mirror next to my door. I was almost used to the blond locks, though I missed the red a bit. Even so, I couldn’t be too obvious. I didn’t feel threatened now that I had a new identity and DiSalvo was room temperature, but I still needed to be careful.
I paused at Carol’s desk. “What sort of case?”
“Some elder law issues, sounds like.” She handed me a thin paper file of intake information before grabbing her bag and hurrying out the back way. “I’ll get Sandwich Sam’s. Back in fifteen minutes.”
“Perfect.”
The conference room was at the front of the office. My heels click-clacked on the tile floor of the hallway, announcing my arrival.
I swung the door open and dropped the file. The edge hit the floor, sending the sheets scattering at my feet.