It was obvious from the way he was acting that he didn’t want to see me again.
“Good bye, Charlotte,” he said, his tone dismissive.
“Bye.”
When I got back to my apartment, I took a long, hot, shower, letting the water pulse over me, hoping to erase the memory of Noah Cutler. I wasn’t sure it was going to work, and I was right. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. There was a lump in my throat, and for some reason, I felt like I wanted to cry.
Which was ridiculous.
How could I feel like crying over a man I’d just met less than twelve hours ago? But I couldn’t get away from the fact that it hurt. The way he’d dismissed me, the way things had seem to change so drastically. One moment we were joking around, then kissing, his hands moving up my body, giving me goose bumps… and then the lust in his eyes had disappeared in an instant, replaced with a devastating hardness. Maybe it was true that you couldn’t have amazing sex with someone you didn’t know. Or you could, but then you’d be left with these upsetting consequences.
I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, then got out and wrapped myself in a towel. My phone was on the counter by the sink, and it began buzzing with a call.
It was a number I didn’t recognize, and I answered it immediately, hoping it was Noah, hoping he was calling to tell me he was sorry about how we left things, that he didn’t mean to seem cold, that –
“Charlotte?”
I recognized the voice immediately. It wasn’t Noah. It was Professor Worthington.Was he calling to fire me? Had Noah told him what had happened between us? Had Noah insisted that I be taken off the case?
“Hi, Professor,” I said, combing through my brain and trying to think of anything I could possibly say to save my job.
“Where have you been?” he demanded gruffly. “I’ve been calling you for the last half an hour.”
“I was in the shower,” I said.
“Charlotte, if you’re going to be working with on this case, then you’re going to have to make sure you have your phone on you at all times. Do you understand?”
“So I’m still on the case?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Professor Worthington had gone from sounding rushed to sounding slightly pissed and really annoyed.
“No, I just… I meant…” I couldn’t come up with a good explanation, so finally I just said, “Professor, I want you to know that I am one hundred percent committed to this case, and I will do whatever it is you need me to.”
“Well, then act like it. I need you to meet us down at the police station in thirty minutes.”
“The police station?”
“Yes. Noah Cutler is going to be questioned, and I’m going to need you to take notes.”
“Of course.” My pulse pounded. Not only was I still on the case, but I was going to be there when the police interrogated Noah. It was amazing experience -- Professor Worthington was one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the city. I’d get to witness a true master at work. And not only that, but Noah would be there. The prospect of seeing him again shouldn’t have excited me, especially given the circumstances. But it did.
“And Charlotte?”
“Yes, Professor?”
“Get it together.”
The line went dead before I could reply.
The police precinct was located on Druid Street, right across from a row of high-end bars and restaurants. There was no car to pick me up this time, obviously, so I was forced to take the subway. Which was fine with me.
It had been awkward earlier, sitting in the back of a limo, knowing that Jared, Noah’s driver, probably knew exactly what I’d just done with his boss. Although Jared didn’t seem all that thrown by any of it – in fact, he was perfectly polite and professional. Which made me think this was probably a normal occurrence – Jared having to take home some girl who’d just spent the night with Noah.
Not that that was surprising. Noah was gorgeous and rich and brilliant. He was charming and sexy and he knew all the right things to say. I was sure he’d had models and actresses and whoever else he fancied.
When I walked into the police precinct, I was the first to arrive—there was no sign of Noah or Professor Worthington. I’d expected it to be scary and foreboding, but it wasn’t. There was a receptionist sitting behind a glass partition, and a few officers milled around a desk in the back.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the partition asked me. She had a short blonde bob and was wearing a very chic pair of horn-rimmed glasses. I wished I could pull off glasses like that, but you had to be a very particular kind of person, usually a hipster. Which I most definitely wasn’t.
“Yes, I’m here with Noah Cutler. I mean, I’m supposed to be meeting him and his team here.”
“Mr. Cutler hasn’t arrived yet,” the woman said. “But you can have a seat over-”
But before she could finish her sentence, the door to the precinct went flying open and Noah came storming in, a harried-looking Professor Worthington trailing behind him. Neither of them even looked at me.
Instead, Noah marched right up to the receptionist.
“I’m here to see Detective Rake,” Noah said. He was wearing a long grey coat over expensive-looking black pants. His hair was freshly styled, his face smoother than it had been when I’d seen him earlier. He must have shaved. He looked like he was about to go to a magazine shoot, not be questioned in a murder.
“Of course, Mr. Cutler,” the receptionist said without even asking Noah’s name. She must have been expecting him, or maybe she knew who he was from his reputation as a lawyer. She picked up a phone and pushed a button. “Detective Rake, Noah Cutler and his lawyer are here.” She replaced the receiver. “He’ll be with you in just a moment.”
Noah didn’t reply, instead heading back toward the front door and pacing angrily. The receptionist was watching him, her gaze moving over his body, his face, and her eyes caught mine. She raised her eyebrows and shook her head at me, and I knew what was trying to convey – wow, he’s hot.
I thought about giving a slight shake of my head to indicate I didn’t agree, but there’s no way she would have believed it. So I nodded my ascent. There really was no way around it – Noah was beautiful. Even this receptionist, who knew he was here to be questioned about a murder, was acknowledging it.
“I’m not waiting more than two minutes,” Noah growled as he paced around the lobby.
“Noah,” Professor Worthington said, shaking his head. “You need to calm down. We can’t have you being questioned while you’re in an emotional state. You need to seem like you have a cool head about you, you can’t come across as defensive, or …”
“Fuck that,” Noah said. He pulled his gloves of angrily and shoved them into the pocket of his coat. “This is bullshit, making me come down here, and you know it.”
“It’s a show of good faith,” Worthington said. “You need to show that you’re playing by the rules. I don’t like it, and you don’t like it, but that’s how it is. That’s what you would tell a client, and you know it.”