Alive At Night (Wildflower Series Book 1)

THE WOMAN IN FRONT of me at my bustling neighborhood cafe made at least six modifications to her vanilla latte.

Six.

I’d thought she was done after four, but then she reared up from looking at her phone, almost swiping me with that larger-than-life bow on top of her head, and tweaked her order twice more. I couldn’t actually hear what she was saying, but for every addition, she put a finger up, counting them so she wouldn’t accidentally leave one out. Or two, apparently.

After the woman paid an ungodly amount for a cup of coffee—if it could even be called that—she swung her heart-shaped purse over her shoulder and cheerily thanked the barista. As she walked to the end of the counter in a whirlwind of bouncy fabrics, an entire goddamn bouquet of floral scents overtook the lingering smell of coffee beans in the air.

Fleetingly, it reminded me of childhood summers on the Cape.

It also reminded me of—no, that couldn’t be.

“Sir?”

“Sorry,” I rasped, stepping up to order my coffee. My plain, black coffee.

Coffee was one of those things in life that was supposed to be simplistic. I liked my coffee black, my beer cold, and my whiskey neat. Beyond that? It could be from the bottom of the barrel, and I wouldn’t give a damn. Life ain’t cheap, and after putting myself through years of law school, I’d learned that a hit of caffeine or a shot of booze did the same trick, no matter the quality.

My drink was ready when I reached the other end of the counter. But when I went to grab it, manicured fingers simultaneously wrapped around the cup.

“Oh!”

The woman, still armed with her heart-shaped purse, jumped back like the thought of touching a stranger disgusted her, and I took advantage of that by sweeping my coffee from her claws. Despite her initial surprise, she didn’t give up easily.

“I think—I think that might—”

One of her peachy fingernails began tapping my coffee cup. I might have paid attention to what she was pointing at if I weren’t distracted by how familiar her voice sounded.

I followed that fingertip to her hand and the delicate dangling bracelets on her wrist before finally locking my eyes on her face.

I was wrong. It could be her.

It was her.

Just my luck.

“Trying to steal my drink, Daisy?” I rocked back on my heels and watched with satisfaction as her eyes snapped up, too. And instantly, all that stumbling innocence drained from her voice.

“Julian?” Her nose scrunched as she processed whose coffee she was trying to steal. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

I raised a brow. She was so shocked she hadn’t even argued about being called Daisy. And now we were both shocked.

“You’re right. I’m supposed to be on my way to my first day of work. But I had to wait while you created a whole new drink with your order.”

If there was one constant in my life, it was that Juniper St. James would always be the pain in my ass. The thorn in my side. The gatecrasher of every childhood birthday party I ever had. The person holding up the line at the coffee shop.

She was only one year younger than me but somehow always seemed to be one step ahead of me. All the damn time. And God, wasn’t that annoying.

“A drink which you are withholding from me.” She pointed again to the cup in my hands.

I didn’t give it up. “This is mine,” I said flatly.

“Move your thumb,” she said, mimicking my tone.

With a sigh, I slid my thumb down an inch to reveal—shit.

I’d seen the Ju on the cup and assumed—wrongly— that it was the beginning of a hastily scribbled Julian.

Juniper snatched the cup out of my hand, and I conceded.

“That’s probably going to give you gut rot,” I grumbled. “In fact, I hope it does.”

“Oh, Julian.” Her glossy lips spread wide with a smug grin. “Don’t be one of those pretentious black-coffee drinkers. It isn’t a cute look.”

“Neither is you holding up the coffee line.”

Juniper pursed her lips as she assessed me, and she did such a thorough job that I annoyingly felt a bit of heat on the back of my neck.

“You might be wearing a suit, Julian, but you haven’t changed. Have you?”

Princess Peach here had always loved to imply things about me, and this time, it was that I was unpolished. That beneath my spotless dress slacks, I was unprofessional. Not that she’d ever gotten into my pants. Never would, either. Juniper thought I was better suited for getting rough on the football field or sliding beneath a car in a mechanic shop than in the Financial District in Boston.

But did I give a damn what Juniper St. James thought she knew about me? Absolutely fuckin’ not.

I returned her look, dropping a slow perusal over her black dress, which was cinched with a perfect bow around her waist. All perfect, pretty, and over-the-top, as usual.

“Seems like you haven’t changed, either,” I drawled.

Infuriatingly, Juniper only shrugged before bouncing away. I watched her with a scowl until a yelp directed my attention to my right, where a woman spilled her fresh cup of coffee across the tiled floor.

Wasted black coffee.

I spotted my cup—my actual cup—and handed it over to her.

“Here, have mine.”

The cafe likely would have replaced her drink, but I was going to need something a lot stronger than coffee to recover from running into Juniper St. James when I least expected to.

Acquiring my new position as an associate attorney at Gardner Law was admittedly easy, and that was only because of one thing. Well, person.

Cameron Bryant was one year ahead of me in law school. He’d had an in at Gardner Law through his advisor and landed a job by the time he woke up hungover after graduation. I remembered thinking he was a lucky little shit because everyone knew that the legal job market was a total wash at the moment, but now here I was. Also a lucky little shit. Neither of us expected to find jobs just a few minutes from where we’d studied our asses off for three years, but here we were.

The world of practicing law was entirely different from the world of practicing touchdown passes. Playing Division I football as an undergrad and being captain taught me that success hinged on perseverance, grit, and sweat. And while all of that had been important in law school, connections were the name of the game in this world. Work ethic only took you so far, and the people you knew took you the rest of the way.

So I supposed you could say I owed Cameron Bryant a round of drinks. Or two.

All the shits I gave about running into a certain brunette in my new neighborhood vanished as I refocused. My sister told me that Juniper had moved to Boston after she finished law school in New York, so it made sense to find her in the Financial District on a Monday morning; practicing law in the city had always been her goal. And she never hit any roadblocks. She hadn’t needed to take a year off before law school to help back home. She didn’t have five sisters to worry about putting through college.

Of course Juniper would be here.

And so what if we were living in the same city again?

I’d survived it before, and I’d survive it again.

Gardner Law was housed in Dewey Square, and though I’d pick a landscape over a cityscape any day, there was a certain satisfaction in seeing the sun bounce off shiny windows on the high-rise as I walked into it. An overly enthusiastic man named Tyler met me at the front desk before walking me through a set of glass double doors and into a large space divided into smaller work areas. There was a set of doors on the far wall, and Tyler brought me to the furthest one. Which, as a pleasant surprise, had my name on it.

But it also had another name.

And that was a hell of a lot less pleasant to see.

I choked down a surge of temper before logic quickly did its work to reassure me. Because there was absolutely no way. No goddamn way.

“Cameron put you up to this, didn’t he?” I forced a laugh, pointing to the names on the office door.

My name.

And her name.

Like I said…no goddamn way.

Tyler responded by blankly staring at me, his enthusiasm wavering. “Put me up to what?”

Something turned in my stomach.

And then, a familiar voice barged into my ears for the second time that day. Sharp and irritated but also haughty. Smug.

“Believe it or not, I’m not a practical joke.”

There was absolutely no goddamn way. Never, not once in my twenty-seven years, had life played such a cruel joke on me. I turned on my heel to find myself at eye level with that larger-than-life bow again.

“I would prefer to not,” I said dryly, wishing I hadn’t given up my coffee. I needed something to wash the sudden bad taste down.

My eyes lowered to find Juniper cocking her head to the side. And then I couldn’t help my attention from dropping even further as she rubbed her lips together, almost absently. When she finally relaxed her grimace, they were puffy and plump.

“What?”

“Believe it.” I tried clearing my throat with very little success before forcing my eyes up to meet her gaze. “I’d prefer not to believe it.”

I wasn’t a huge fan of practical jokes, but I’d happily accept one right now if it meant I didn’t have to work with the one person who’d perfected how to drive me up a wall.

Silence greeted my retort, but a tick in Juniper’s jaw gave her away. I was impressed with how well she was holding her tongue in front of Tyler, but I knew. I knew what she was thinking.

Stuck at a stalemate, I crossed my arms over my chest. Tyler didn’t appear to know what to do, so he clapped his hands together and flashed an uncomfortable smile. “Well, I’ll leave you both to get settled in. Arlo from IT will visit shortly to set you up and ensure you have access to our systems.”

Without another word, Tyler hurried back to his post in reception. Despite the awkwardness, I was sad to see him go. Because now that he was gone, I was left with—

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Juniper said, repeating the exact words she’d said at the cafe.

I ignored her—because yes, I was absolutely supposed to be here—and rounded the corner into my office, striding past Juniper. Which I assumed was our office. Seriously fuck that, though.

The small space was bright. Clean lines and high-end, modern furniture. The kind that looked like it would likely send me to the chiropractor after one week of sitting in it. A beautiful city view spread out before one of the desks, and I watched Juniper drop into the chair in front of it. She leaned back, propping both her heeled feet on the desk as if to make a point. But that point was lost on me as her dress rode up, revealing lots of bare skin. Too much.

Juniper immediately grabbed her dress to keep it from riding up further before sitting straight again. Feet on the floor. Elbow leaning on the desktop with fake nonchalance.

I shifted on my feet, clearing my throat. “That’s my desk.”

“No, it’s—”

“Move your elbow.”

She looked over her shoulder at the nameplate. And then swore beneath her breath before rounding on me.

“How are you even here right now?”

“I imagine the same way you are, Daisy. I went to law school. I graduated law school. I applied for a job. And then I—”

“Do not start with the names, Julian. People will get—”

“Just wanted to drop in to welcome our newest associate attorneys!” A woman with one of those classic corporate bobs strode confidently into the office, demanding our attention. “I know you’re meeting with IT this morning, but let’s connect later this afternoon after you visit HR so we can review other aspects of your onboarding.”

“Excellent,” I cut in smoothly before Juniper could open her big mouth. “Thank you so much, Daphne. I’m thrilled to be here.”

“And we’re thrilled to have you.” Daphne, one of the firm’s partners, gave a succinct nod that was genuine but final. She didn’t have time to sit around all day and exchange niceties. It was nice enough that she even stopped to check in with us, but I wasn’t surprised. One of the reasons I was so eager to work at Gardner was because Cameron assured me its smaller size meant that the firm had a flat culture with partners who involved themselves in the development of associate attorneys. So far, Daphne was proving him right.

Her gaze settled on Juni. “Juniper, thank you again for the coffee. I can’t believe you remembered our conversation after your interview.”

I narrowed my eyes on the cup in Daphne’s hand.

A vanilla latte with six different modifications, huh?

I should have listened closer this morning in line. What were the chances that Juniper would spill the secrets of Daphne’s drink order? Zero to none, probably. Fuck it all.

Daphne disappeared down the hallway, the echoing of her heels fading the further she got. Before I could turn to Juniper and call her out for being a goddamn suck-up, another face appeared in the office’s doorway.

Our office.

Hated that, by the way.

I didn’t mind sharing. In undergrad, I lived with five dudes, and several of them had live-in girlfriends who didn’t pay rent but also didn’t fucking leave. Hell, I grew up dividing shower time with my five sisters. Sharing wasn’t a problem for me.

But sharing with Juniper St. James?

“There he is!”

“Hey, man.” Stepping forward, I slapped my hand into Cameron’s outstretched one. Finally, someone who wasn’t going to say something that would irritate the shit out of me.

“I have a client meeting in a few, but I just wanted to pop by.” Cameron flashed a grin as he moved from me to Juniper, and I stiffened. “Cameron Bryant,” he introduced.

Juniper’s hand slipped into his, and a heavy blush spread over her cheeks as Cam gave it a firm shake.

“Juni—Juniper St. James.”

Was that a stutter? Juniper smiled. I frowned. And when she still hadn’t dropped his hand, I cleared my throat. Really, what was this?

“Juniper St. James,” Cam repeated, his eyes growing wide with laughter and flicking meaningfully to me. He’d heard my complaints about my sister’s best friend on more than one occasion.

“Who’s the client?” I asked Cameron through gritted teeth.

Finally releasing Juniper, Cam waved the question away. “I’ll fill you in later. Celebratory first-day drinks after work?”

“I’m in.”

Wouldn’t mind a drink right now, actually.

“You should join, too, St. James!” Cameron called over his shoulder as he hurried away, adjusting his suit jacket as he fell in with another guy walking in the same direction.

I could kick Cam’s ass for that. And here I’d thought I could count on him not to piss me off.

“You should definitely not join, St. James,” I said, turning to glare at Juniper.

“At least St. James is one of my actual names,” she huffed, walking to my appointed desk and collecting her things to move them to hers. I raised a brow, surprised that she was conceding that easily, but she continued before I could say anything. “And it would seem that we actually didn’t get here the same way.”

The frown I’d been wearing since the embarrassingly awkward Juni-Cameron exchange deepened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I got here by working my ass off and making a good impression. You got here because of your connection with Mr. Bryant.”

I didn’t take the bait. Networking was nothing to be ashamed of. And sure, maybe connecting with a law school bud wasn’t exactly networking, but it got me a job. I wasn’t pretentious enough to care about anything else. “You could have connections, too,” I said. “You know, if you didn’t try to bite the head off of everyone you talk to.”

“I have plenty of connections,” she sniffed as she began setting out little decor pieces on her desk.

Amused at her immediate switch-up, I leaned against my desk and watched her. “Oh, yeah?”

Juniper’s brow arched as she busied herself, and I took that to mean yes.

“I don’t think bribing people with gut-rot coffee counts,” I added.

“It wasn’t a bribe.” She set a lamp down on the corner of her desk with unnecessary force. “It’s called being nice. Because I do not, in fact, bite people’s heads off when I talk to them.”

A forbidden smile lingered on my lips. “If you’re so nice, why have you never brought me coffee?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her brows drawing together. “Where is your coffee?”

A shrug. “I gave it to a woman who spilled hers.”

“Oh.”

“No comeback?”

Well, well. Today was just full of surprises, wasn’t it? Hopefully, this was the last of them.

Juniper answered with a flick of her eyes, but that was all. The office fell quiet as Juniper continued to unpack. Since I didn’t have anything other than the one framed picture of my family to set on my desk, Arlo helped me set up my laptop first when he swung by. Juniper didn’t speak to me again until after he left, and I nearly choked on my own tongue when she did.

“So, where are we getting drinks after work?”

Dear God. She was serious, wasn’t she? While there might have been a bit of familiar mischief dancing in her expression, there was also earnestness.

Ignoring her, I grabbed my phone and typed a short message to Cameron.

I hate you.