Marc Nassar

"Why the fuck are you in a grouchy mood? I'm the one who's sitting in this God awful orange jumpsuit in handcuffs!" Herman, my client, says as he jingles the chains around his wrists against the plastic black table between us.

We're seated across from each other at a small rectangular table in a wide open room, also known as the prison's visitor space. The room, lit with natural sunlight from the small windows along the walls and the fluorescent beams overhead, has similar tables scattered throughout with plastic folding chairs at the longer edges. Inmates and their visitors at the tables throughout the room create a low hum of voices while guards in beige uniform keep a watchful eye over everything from nearby.

"I'm fine," I respond curtly as I shuffle through the paperwork in front of me.

"I'm no shrink, but you don't look or sound fine." He leans back and lifts a brow. "When's the last time you got laid?"

Images of a naked Celeste on her back flash to mind and my body heats. I somehow manage to keep a straight face as I continue shuffling through my notes, but I'm now forgetting what I'm looking for.

"God, it feels like it's been forever for me," Herman continues. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be in here though. They have some activities for us, and they even have a therapist who I can say whatever the fuck I want to."

I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. "I don't have too much time here, Herman. We need to talk about the appeal."

"Dr. Katz said it's good to let out what we're feeling. I hate his annoying voice, but that man has made some pretty fan-fuckin-tastic breakthroughs with me. You should talk to him sometime."

I nearly snort in Herman's face. "We're not here to discuss my mental health."

"Right, right. Alright, yeah, let's talk about how I can get the hell out of this place so I can retire on some remote island with lots of beautiful women."

I tuck my lips in, trying to mentally convince myself that I love my job. We continue going over my notes and strategies to help Herman get a revised sentence. While I've been trying to pour myself back into work, the reality is, it's been so hard to focus this week after everything that happened with Celeste. And today especially I've been in a shit mood because Vivian sent out a shit ton of invites for a party this weekend at my house.

It had completely slipped my mind that I agreed to let her throw a party at the house. Then, I woke up this morning to find a formal invitation in my inbox which stated I was cordially invited...Cordially invited to a party at my own fucking house...Cordially invited by Vivian Ellington and Marc Nassar.

Our names on the invite were in two thousand point font, and fancy cursive writing, twirled together—basically implying to everyone that Vivian and I are in some type of relationship. A few of my friends have already messaged asking about it, and warned me that Vivian isn't someone to get involved with. Apparently the word around town is that she's a "stage five clinger" and "not in a cute way" as a buddy of mine put it.

But there isn't even a situation between Vivian and I anymore. I haven't even thought about that woman since the night she planted a kiss on me when I gave her a ride back to her house and told her we should let things cool off.

But texts kept on streaming through this morning, prying into a situation that's not even a situation, and making my blood pressure rise. I tried calling Vivian up to get her to cancel things but she's been dodging every single one of my calls and messages. And according to Kristina, setup for the party has already begun at the house with vendors showing up unannounced.

Fucking hell. What will Celeste think about all of this? Will she think it's weird? Will she think I'm trying to date Vivian again? Even though Celeste and I left things on a sour note, I still don't want even a whiff of it to get back to her. I've been trying to strategize ways to win her over. And this sure as hell seems like it'll do the opposite of win her over.

Of course my daughters are ecstatic about the party. They're the only reason I'm not completely losing my shit.

I take in a deep breath. I need to focus. Herman is paying me a lot of money to be here and help him—not pout like some tween about a party. I'll just figure out what to do when I get home tonight.

I'm about to ask Herman another question about the case when his expression changes abruptly, forcing me to pause. He's looking at something behind me, his eyes growing wide and mouth falling open.

I turn to spot the source of his surprise and my eyes immediately lock with hers. My heart jumps and sweat instantly lines my palms. All the oxygen in the open room is suddenly sucked up and I'm having trouble breathing. I tear myself away as if my eyes will burn if I look too long. My pulse races as I pivot back to find Herman's mouth still open and his gaze tracking her movement...tracking Celeste's movements.

A light pain covers my chest as I turn back to take in the scene and check if that really is Celeste across the room stealing every bit of my sanity.

That raven black hair that haunts my dreams...those big blue eyes that are as wild and untamed as the ocean...those lips I'm dying to taste.

Celeste.

Wait, what the hell is she doing here?

She's being guided to a seat across the room along with a young woman next to her and a kid about three or four years old between them. She keeps looking back at me as if she's in just as much shock as I am. My mind works rapidly to try and put the pieces together. Is that her sister-in-law and her nephew?

"That's the bitch who attacked me at the restaurant a couple of months ago! The one in the jeans!" Herman says in a sharp whisper, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"W-what?" is all I can say back to him, trying to process.

"Remember when I texted you that I wanted to sue? And then later you talked me out of it saying there were bigger issues I was dealing with? That's the girl!"

"A-are you serious? What happened?" I gulp and try to keep my mouth closed.

"I went to this shitty diner near your office after we met. I ordered a burger and she came out and tried to stuff it in my face," Herman whispers before shifting in his seat.

I can't help but crack a smile picturing Celeste doing something like that. The dark storm cloud over my mood lightens just a little bit.

"I'm being serious!" he says, reacting to whatever is on my face, but a smile starts to break out on his face.

A squeal catches both of our attention and we turn to take in the scene. The woman next to Celeste is jumping up and down as a young man in an orange jumpsuit walks into the room with a guard next to him. He has wide, thick shoulders but they're slightly slumped as he shuffles to his visitors with a wide smile. His hair isn't as dark as Celeste's but from this angle, it looks like he could be her brother with his thick eyebrows and light skin.

Could he be?

My skin starts tingling as I watch the scene unfold. The woman next to Celeste keeps squealing, catching the attention of everyone in the space. The guard says something to them and the woman quiets down before launching at the man with the child in her arms. They hug briefly, a little longer than what the guards typically allow, and then kiss quickly before the woman says something to the guard. And then Celeste smothers the young man with a hug around his face. He laughs and for a moment it looks like he's going to start crying. My heart breaks. The man looks barely into adulthood and the chains that surround his wrists don't look like they belong there.

Oh God, that has to be Celeste's brother. She mentioned he was in trouble but I never imagined it would be this kind of trouble.

"That's Noah," Herman says, pulling me from the reunion happening across the room from us.

"Huh?" I respond back.

"That kid that just came out. His name's Noah Peters. He came in here not that long before I did. He's one of the only people in here who you question why. He's way too innocent, unlike the rest of us."

"Wh-what happened? Why is he here?" I shouldn't be asking these types of questions as I'm currently here on Herman's dime, but I'm not really interested in discussing anything else at the moment.

Herman shrugs. "Armed robbery. Apparently the kid stole some really expensive shit with a weapon on him and got caught right after."

I turn back to find Noah carrying his son and sitting down with his wife and Celeste. They are all giddy with excitement, yet Celeste's smile falters when she glances over at me briefly. My stomach flips. "Who's his representation?" I say to Herman while still looking at Celeste. Her eyes flicker with something unreadable before she turns back to her brother.

"I don't fucking know." Right. I look back at him. Why would he know? Herman shifts and sighs. "But, Noah and I have become friends. I can't believe he knows that crazy bitch. I'll have to ask him about her."

I slam my notebook shut. "Don't call her that."

He makes a face. "Why?"

"Because. Just don't fucking call her that, alright?"

"Woah. Seriously Marc, what's up your ass today?" Herman asks as I start packing up my things. "Alright, fine! I won't call her that if you win this appeal."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "We're done for the day." I signal to the closest guard. "We're done."

"Hold up, wait! Did we get through everything?"

"Basically. I'll let you know if I need anything else." I nod once before turning toward the exit.

I don't look back when Herman says, "Alrighty, then."

There are strict rules in place at any prison, which means I can't go up to Celeste's family and introduce myself. I keep my gaze tracked on the exit.

Why didn't Celeste tell me about this sooner? She knows I'm one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the state. If anyone could help it sure as hell would be me.

I try to draw in slow, steady breaths to keep my anger at everything today in the lowest possible setting.

I have research to do.