Inferno: Part 3 (The Vault) by T.K. Leigh

Author:T.K. Leigh [Leigh, T.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TV-TKL-I-EBB-201801011
Published: 2018-02-28T16:00:00+00:00

Once I was back in the car, I steered it in the opposite direction of my parents’ house. I didn’t want to be around them. Not tonight. Instead, I found myself pulling into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant in Woodland Hills and headed into the bar. Enjoying a glass of wine probably didn’t sound like an appropriate way to cope with someone’s passing, but I knew enough to know Gabriella wouldn’t have wanted me to mourn her. She would have wanted me to do something to celebrate her life. And what better way to do that than to have a glass of wine and good food?

After I placed my order with the bartender and a glass of wine appeared in front of me, I pulled my phone out and opened the Instagram app, trying to come up with a caption that properly conveyed what I wanted to say. I stared at the photo of the candles, unsure how to put my feelings into words. Sometimes simple was better. Sometimes you just needed to speak from the heart. So that was what I did.

“Thank you for showing me what love looks like. Your light will always shine in my heart because of that.”

I studied it, hoping it was good enough, then tagged Dante in the photo, posting it. I put my phone on the bar and took a sip of my wine.

“Ellie?” a voice said.

I turned to my left, seeing a man with dirty blond hair, sky blue eyes, and a perfectly tailored suit approach the bar. “Quinn?”

“It is you,” he breathed, taking the empty seat next to me. “I thought it was, but the hair threw me for a loop.”

I laughed slightly, toying with one of my locks. “I changed it back to its natural color.”

“Nice,” he said, signaling the bartender. “It looks good on you.”

“What are you doing here? Woodland Hills is a bit far from O’Connell and Greene, isn’t it?” I asked after he placed his drink order.

I met Quinn my first month as an associate at my old law firm. He was opposing counsel on a case and had proven to be quite the worthy adversary. However, he was still no match for my tenacity and drive, not to mention the fact that I routinely worked eighty-hour weeks because I didn’t like being home with Brock. Despite representing clients with opposing viewpoints, we formed a friendship.

“I quit about a year ago and started my own firm in Encino. I got tired of someone else telling me which cases to take and making me ask some of my clients to mortgage their houses just to pay our legal fees. I was just out here for a meeting.” He nodded in appreciation as the bartender placed his beer in front of him. “How about you?” he asked hesitantly after taking a sip. He’d probably heard I was fired. Everyone seemed to know about that, considering getting fired from Sullivan, Sullivan & Grace was the equivalent of being blacklisted, as I’d learned over the past several weeks.

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