Not to mention the fact that he knew the man I was prosecuting–sounded like they were friends even. Was there a conflict of interest there, even having dinner? No, I didn't think so. It's not like he was involved in the case. But still, I wasn't going to lie to myself and say that it was just two old friends grabbing a bite to eat. We were two people that had spent a weekend having sex… lots of sex… lots of great sex.

My mind started to wander to places it shouldn't wander and I pulled up short. God, stop, Grace! What is wrong with you?

Yes, maybe it wasn't right that I was going to have dinner with him at all. But I longed to know how his life had come to the place where it was now. I longed to know how he was doing. I had thought about him so often over the years. I would have dinner with him, catch up, and then we'd go our separate ways. He lived in the same city I lived in. Okay. That was fine. I would–

A car horn blared behind me and I jolted out of my thoughts, moving forward through the light. I forced myself not to think about Carson the rest of the way back to my office. I had the second half of the workday to get through. I needed to focus.

Alex was out of the office for the rest of the day, tied up in court, and I was thankful. I couldn't help feeling guilty about making dinner plans with Carson.

I closed the door behind me when I got back to my office and sat down at my desk, resting my head in my hands and sitting quietly for a few minutes, trying to get back to a place of calm.

I couldn't help laughing out loud. Geez, what were the freaking odds? What were the chances that almost five years later, completely unexpectedly, I would walk into Carson Stinger's office in a city neither one of us had lived in when we parted? Life was wild.

I clapped my hand over my mouth. Oh my God, I hadn't used that phrase in so long. Suddenly, that weekend, the feel of that weekend, came flowing back. I let it wash over me, not just remembering, but also feeling the things I had felt for Carson back then. Oh God, I couldn't do this. I stood up and grabbed my purse and my jacket, stopping at my secretary's desk on the way out and telling her that I was going home sick. I had been working there for almost six months and I'd never called in sick or left early. I knew no one would doubt me.

"Feel better!" the secretary, Amy, called behind me, sounding worried.

I just raised my hand up and waved behind me. I had no doubt that I looked truly ill.

* * *

Carson

After Grace left, I went up to see Leland to update him about the detective's questioning. I didn't mention Grace.

Dylan was working on hacking into some databases that may or may not pan out in helping Josh's case. He was also still trying to get a lead on Bakos that would give us enough time to move in on him. Josh would enter his plea in a day or two and then we could figure out bail. It was just a waiting game at this point.

I sat downstairs in the security room, watching the tables for a while, and then I texted Leland and told him that I was leaving a little early with a headache. It wasn't a lie. I had been sitting down there thinking of Grace the whole damn time. My head was splitting.

Still, I made time to go upstairs to the forty-fifth floor to check on the girls. This was something Grace couldn't know about. I was looking forward to catching up and telling her where my life had gone, but I knew I couldn't be completely honest with her. Especially not about the girls. That was something she wouldn't like, and something she might be required to report.

A half an hour later, I drove my truck home and as soon as I slammed the door behind me, I went to the kitchen and took a couple Advil. I took a long, hot shower and when I got out, I felt better.

Seeing Grace today still had me reeling. She was about the last person I'd have ever expected to walk into my office. And yet there she had been, standing in front of me like a dream, looking more beautiful than I remembered her. And I had done a lot of remembering when it came to Grace Hamilton.

I pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved, black shirt and grabbed my phone. I had forgotten to check in with Dylan before I left and so I called him.

He answered on the second ring, "Hey man."

"Hey, Dylan, I left a little early. Did you get all the paperwork squared away?"

"Mostly, I’m hoping it will be by tonight. I'm just waiting on a few things."

"Okay, cool. Just wanted to check in."

"Okay, you all right?"

"Yeah." I hesitated and Dylan remained quiet. "Hey Dylan, you remember that girl I met in Vegas five years ago or so? The one–"

"Yeah. Pussy Voodoo?"

I chuckled. "Yeah."

"What about her?"

"She walked into my office today. She's the prosecutor on Josh's case."

"You're shittin' me."

"No. I’m not. What are the odds, right? Shit."

"Geez, man. That's either really bad luck or really good luck. I don't know. Shit's pretty complicated right now. You still interested?"

I sighed. "Interested? Doesn't matter anyway. She's engaged."

Dylan paused. "Well, engaged ain't married."

"Huh. I'm taking her to dinner tonight. Just to catch up."

"That sounds interested, Carson. Be careful."

"I will. I will. Thanks, Dylan."

"All right. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, I'll be in early. I'm meeting the dignitaries from Saudi Arabia." It was part of my job as head of security to secure high-priced items that Trilogy guests brought with them.

"Oh, right, okay, I'll see you then."

We hung up and I looked at the clock. It was ten to seven. I grabbed my jacket and my keys and headed for the door.

CHAPTER 24

Grace

I was just finishing blow-drying my hair when my cell rang. It was Abby.

"You're going to die when I tell you who I'm going to dinner with, Abby," I whispered into the phone.

"Are you answering your phone from an underground bunker?"

"What? No."

"Then why are you whispering like that?"

I whispered into the phone again, "I don't know. Maybe a hear-no-evil thing?"

"Oh God. The last time you sounded like this, you were spending a weekend in Vegas with a porn star."

I laughed nervously. "Well, funny you should mention that actually."

I heard a shriek come from the other end of the line and held the phone away from my ear, grimacing.

"Jesus, Abby," I said, raising my voice to regular volume. "Are you trying to bust my ear drum?"

"Tell me you are not going to spend the weekend with another porn star, Grace."

I laughed. It felt good. I needed the relaxation a little laughter brought. I had taken a long, hot bath when I got home, but I was still strung up as tight as a bow over the thought of going to dinner with Carson. Not to mention the fact that I still hadn't told Alex about my evening plans. He was still with some clients and I'd only heard from him via text.

"Yeah, no." I cleared my throat. "I am, however, going to dinner with the porn star." I was whispering again.

"Say what?" Abby practically yelled.

"Abby, stop it, you're going to scare the baby." Abby was eight months pregnant.

She laughed. "The baby's fine. It's you I'm worried about. What is UP?"

I sighed. "I went along for an interview with a detective today for a case I'm working on and walked into Carson Stinger's office. No joke. I thought I was gonna faint, Abby."

"Carson Stinger's office?" she asked, sounding completely confused. "What office? Where?"

"He's head security at a new hotel on the strip. Apparently he went into the military after we parted ways and he's been overseas most of this time. I don't even know all the details. He asked me to dinner to 'catch up' and I said yes."

Abby was quiet for several seconds. "He joined the military… Wow. That is a story I have to hear. You better call me the minute you get back. What does Alex think about your dinner plans?" she asked warily.

I paused. "I haven't actually told him yet. But you know Alex, he's easygoing. I think he'll be fine with it."

She huffed out a breath. "That's what I'm worried about."

"What does that mean exactly?" I asked, frowning as I put Abby on speaker and took my robe off so that I could pull on my underwear and bra.

There was another short silence before Abby spoke, "I just… remember how that guy hit on you when we were out at Thanksgiving?" Abby and Brian had come to Vegas a couple weeks before to spend Thanksgiving with me and Alex because I was wrapping up a big case and hadn't been able to get home to see my dad and sisters. We had gone out for Thanksgiving dinner, deciding to make a big night out of it and when I had left the table to use the restroom, a guy stopped me and made a pretty big show of hitting on me.

"Yeah? And?" I asked.

"Alex didn't even bat an easygoing eyelash. He really couldn't have cared less."

"That's not true! He just trusts me."

Abby huffed out a breath. "I can't hold it in any longer, Grace." And I swore I heard Brian's voice in the background saying her name quietly in a warning manner. "Shhh!" I heard her say back.

"Abby, what can't you hold in any longer?"

"He's boring!"

I sucked in a breath. "No he's not! He's… he's kind and sweet and… "