an streets of the Upper East Side. The neighborhood looked almost

where she grabbed breakfast before work. Now it was a

pensive perfume and f

the law firm where she'd started he

ant garbage from a back alley, and tossed it into the compactor truc

ning calm. A cherry-red Fer

ome, arrogant, familiar in the worst way. Chase Spencer.

his eyes doing a slow, insulting crawl over h

Finley." His voice was low, but loud enou

another bin. She knew what people

g against it. "I heard you got out. How come you didn't call any of y

l in the car. A girl in the passenger

rned and looked at him, her eyes cold.

ash is your new career? From the DA's office to a ga

cle with detached amusement. The humiliation fel

rage. She maneuvered the bin around the f

ot back in the car, revved the engine wit

ark now. "You're a murderer. What right do you

blow, knocking the air from her lun

g into her palms. "I didn't kill anyone," s

sneered. "Be smart. Apologize for

sense of superiority, and felt a wave of n

sh bin forward. It stopped just inches from the

Chase roared, starting

man named Mike, came running over. "Wh

anged. He plastered on a fawning smile. "Mr. Spencer, I'm

ora a venomous glare, silentl

st a public brawl. He let out a cold snort, pointing a finger

rrari's engine a fi

ant to get fired? Do you know who

ved to the next block. The burn of unshed tears was h

the city. She dragged her exhausted body toward the s

hts flared to life behind her. A bla

on his face. He walked toward her, flanked

ce echoing off the brick walls

of the alley w