Shawna ended the call as we rolled to a stop. I scooted over to make room for her, and she climbed in. She scowled, pursed her lips, clutched her briefcase handle white-knuckled, and started in on Jillian right away.

"The bitch didn't even need me! She could have brought Peggy to do what I did!"

"What did you do?" I asked, playing dumb.

"I took notes. Notes! I was the damned admin assistant!"

I winced, "Oof. Yeah, it sounds like a crappy maneuver. Why did you think she insisted you be there?"

She sighed. "Because I'm going to be representing the man. A replacement trial for Sam's to make partner."

"So," I asked, "is this one guilty?"

"He claims to be," she said, finally relaxing enough to put her briefcase on the floorboard instead of hugging it to her.

"Wait... what? Your client is claiming to be guilty? Is he?"

Shawna paused. "Yeah. We won't try to prove he's innocent; we're shooting for an insanity plea. Reduced time in a mental facility. He'll be out in about five years."

"Good god. Who the hell is this, Shawna?" I demanded.

"You're not going to like it," she warned.

I already knew I didn't. "Just tell me."

"He's the Meeting Place Shooter. They moved the trial up here because they didn't think he'd get a fair one down there. The states agreed to work together, which is why he's out of Mississippi."

"The Shooter?" I exclaimed. My acting was excellent, I had to admit. "What the hell, Shawna! The guy admitted to it!"

"I know! But like I said, we're going to try the insanity plea."

"And whether or not you make partner is resting on this," I stated.

"Yep."

I tried logic and a moral sense of order again. "If you don't think you're going to win anyway, now would be the perfect time to jump ship to somewhere else before you've invested a lot in the case."

She was quiet. At first, I thought she was contemplating the idea, but after a while, I realized she was trying to find a way to explain she wanted the trial. I put her out of her misery.

"You want to stay on the case. You think it's an interesting challenge, and if you can pull off an insanity plea, then you'll be able to leverage yourself better."

She nodded. "Yeah. Then would be the best time to find a new law firm, one far away from the witch."

I wanted to explain she didn't know the half of it, but I couldn't. I had to pursue the topic. "So, you'll jump ship if you win this case?"

"Yeah. Probably," she said with a deep sigh, and her shoulders sagged. "Hell, I don't know. When I'm partner, I have more say over the kinds of cases I take on. I wouldn't have to take crap like this."

"But you'd still be defending the guilty," I stated.

"'Allegedly guilty,' Olivia. We've had this conversation before."

"You're right; we have. A lot."

We lapsed into silence. Just as things got awkward, my phone rang. It was my mom.

"Hi, mom," I answered with more enthusiasm than I felt. "What's up?"

"Child! Why haven't you called your mother?" she admonished. Despite her words, I could hear her smile.

"I'm sorry, mom, work has me wrapped up in a couple of projects," I explained. I glanced at Shawna, who cocked an eyebrow at me and the white lie I'd just told my mother.

"Well, it's good to know you're keeping yourself busy. But I want to invite you to a party. In case you don't remember, your father retires this year. We just got the call from the powers that be; he's officially retiring next week!"

"Next week?" I asked, eyebrows arching. "Wow! I thought it would be at the end of the year!"

"Yeah, well, the financial people said now was the optimal time before his next birthday. Honestly, I don't understand any of it. All I know is we're throwing this party together quickly. It's going to be next Saturday."

"Do you need any help?" I held my breath, hoping she'd say no. I loathed planning parties, but I would for my mom and dad.

"No, we paid a small fortune and hired help at this late date," my mom said, talking rapidly. "I just wanted you to know so you could put it on your calendar. Tell Shawna she and her guest are welcome."

"Yeah, sure thing, mom."

"Okay, hon, I need to go. I've got about twenty more phone calls to make," she said. "Be sure to tell Shawna! I'm not calling her!"

"I will. She's in the car with me."

"Oh good. We love you. See you Saturday at six at the Bistro."

"Wait, did you say the Bistro?"

"Yeah. Seems they have some special going on. I was quite surprised. It was very affordable. Maybe it had something to do with the fact one of the owners just died? Okay, got to go! Love you!"

She ended the call, and my stomach churned. "Fuck my life," I whispered.

"What's wrong?" Shawna asked.

"Well, first, you need to know you and a plus one are invited to my dad's emergency retirement this Saturday at six."

She gave me a half-grin. "Let me guess... at the Bistro?"

I slumped in the seat. "Yeah."

She roared, a great belly laugh filling the car. "Oh, Olivia, I feel for you, I do. But you have to laugh at the irony. I mean, what are the odds? Just when you and Lucas are fighting, you have to attend a party at his restaurant!"

"The odds are straight from hell," I scoffed. Deep in my bones, I was certain Lucifer had his hand in this.

"Okay," she said, still giggling. "So, what is it you and he are arguing about?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I stated. "I really don't."

"But..."

"No buts, Shawna. I'm serious. It's just some crap between him and a client he's trying to get. He let it go a little too far, and I saw it. So, now I'm hurt and pissed off."

"Sounds pretty major."

I took a shaky breath, on the verge of tears. "Yeah."

She changed the subject. "So, what have you been doing with yourself lately?"

The sudden switch threw me off guard. I said the first thing that came into my mind, "I've been helping Lucas on some projects with his business."

"Oh? What kind of projects.?"

"Contract things. I can't talk about it. Confidentiality and such."

"What about your company?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, it runs well enough without me. We have the quarterly board meeting coming up soon. I suppose I should get up to speed about our forecasts. Though maybe my dad has the right idea, and I should retire."

Shawna nodded. "Oh, hey, so I know you have joined the committee dealing with the cancer ward at the hospital. Sam was the Chair of the board, and now they're looking for someone else. Maybe you should think about it," she suggested.

"Hmm..." I thought. "I don't think so. If the company doesn't keep me occupied, I'll likely be busy with Lucas' business. Of course," I scoffed, "I might need a new hobby if Lucas doesn't work out."

"That's the spirit!"

I snorted. Shawna could be a goofball when she wanted to be. It was her go-to for trying to cheer me up. The thing was, it almost always worked. I felt better having gotten a few things off my chest, even if they were partial truths.

She looked out the window, and a somber expression came over her. "Looks like we're just about there."

I reached out and squeezed her hand before she picked up her phone and texted John's family to tell them she was arriving a little early.

"Are you ready for this?" I asked, trying to gauge where she was emotionally.

"As ready as I'm going to be," she said, exhaling heavily. "At least it's not a traditional wake, you know? I hate those. No, John stated in his Will he wanted a party. So, we've arranged for a party."

My eyes widened, "You're serious? We're going to a party?"

"Yep. Got a DJ with a dance floor... open bar... hors d'oeuvres galore. His sister insisted."

"Well, this will be different."

"Yeah, but it's what he wanted."

"Which is what's important." We stopped at the gate of a community. "Where are we?"

"This is where John's parents live. We're having the Celebration at the Country Club."

"Oh. Posh."

"You could say that."

The car passed through the gate, and we drove through the very high-class suburb to the golf course and Country Club on the back of the neighborhood. The valet was waiting to open our doors. I let Shawna get out first as she was part of the family.

We heard the thumping of the bass coming from inside. Through the enormous windows, I could see a champagne fountain and the tables of food. As we went around and through the front, loud music and screaming children assaulted my senses. This is so not going to be my thing.

The woman who came out to greet Shawna I quickly recognized as John's sister. Shawna introduced us.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I shouted in her ear.

"Thank you, but today, we're going to have a good time. We'll worry about the sad part tomorrow at the funeral."

I smiled politely and nodded. I then began my hour's worth of following Shawna around before I could extricate myself from the scene. The first thing we did was grab some bubbly. It was early in the day for me, but who could resist champagne with strawberries?

I sipped it and tried not to spit it out. I realized my palette wanted hell-alcohol, and nothing would compare ever again. I sighed, set the glass down, and then made my way to the bar to find something else.

I eyed the non-alcoholic examples she had lined up and chose ginger ale. "Can I have this in a glass, please?" I shouted to her over the music.

She poured it into a champagne glass and added a few strawberries with a wink. I grinned back at her and fished out a generous tip. I suspected I really wouldn't drink it, but I couldn't wander around a party without a glass in my hand. It gave me something to do.

Shawna introduced me to John's family. I smiled politely at each of them, not knowing if I should offer condolences or not. Eventually, though, I needed a break, went out into the pool area, and stood looking out over the golf course.

I recognized Lucifer then even though he had dressed like one of the staff. He glanced my way, caught my eye, then turned away to help a customer book a tee time.

I sighed. It was time to go. Only, I realized wherever I went, he would likely follow me, even if he never interacted with me. I'd told him not to bother me; he was pushing the rules. I thought about where I might get a few moments of peace, completely alone. No place came to mind, and I felt trapped. There was nowhere to run or hide where I could just sit, think, cry, and brood.

I said goodbye to Shawna, claiming a headache from the music and supposed champagne I'd been drinking. I had the driver come around and take me home. If I was going to feel miserable, I might as well be miserable in comfort.