LITMIR.BIZ

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table, all five feet six inches of head-turning brunette. The kind of woman you wanted to hate—model-beautiful—but was simply too nice to despise. A social worker who devoted her life to protecting children and spoiling her husband. “Hi, Julie. We were starting to worry you might not get here in time.”

      “I was beginning to wonder, too.” Julie tossed her bag on the table and leaned to give Joe a kiss. “Sorry, honey. I had something I had to take care of tonight. An emergency removal of three kids. What a way to end the year.”

      Joe stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, looking very proud, and rightfully so. “Mr. Fortune, this is my wife, Julie. Julie, this is Daniel Fortune.”

      “We’ve met,” Julie said. “I testified during one of your trials.”

      “The Henson trial,” Daniel said. “That was a tough one.”

      Julie regarded Joe again. “The one where the boyfriend put his girlfriend’s five-year-old daughter into a coma because she spilled her juice on his CD collection.”

      Alisha inwardly cringed when she recalled the details she’d only read about. Thank God she’d still been working at her former firm defending rich executives involved in white-collar crimes, and that so far when appointed by the court she’d only represented misdemeanor offenses and not heinous felonies.

      “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Joe pointed to the empty chair beside Alisha. “We can count down together.”

      Alisha counted to ten before Daniel said, “Maybe some other time. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

      With another glance at Alisha, he strode away with blatant confidence, his wide shoulders straight, his large hands dangling at his sides, while heads turned as he passed. No doubt about it, he was a natural attention-getter. He’d certainly gotten hers on more than one occasion.

      After Julie sat down beside Joe, Alisha pushed the glass of champagne, compliments of the A.D.A., toward her. “Take this. I still have some left.”

      Julie exchanged a veiled look with her husband. “I don’t care for any champagne, but I guess it will work for a toast.” She held the flute aloft. “To the new year. May it not royally suck.”

      They all touched their glasses together with a shared “Here, here.” Joe and Alisha took sips of their drinks while Julie merely pushed the untouched glass aside.

      Joe narrowed his eyes and said to Alisha, “That Daniel Fortune is something else. You should do him, Hart.”

      She nearly gasped. “Why would you even think such a thing?”

      He looked at her as if she’d just plummeted several rungs on the intelligence ladder. “Because he wants you.”

      What a colossal joke. “Oh, sure he does.”

      “Don’t be obtuse, Alisha,” Joe said. “I saw the way he was looking at you. In fact, I’ve seen him look at you that way before at the courthouse. He treats everyone else with indifference, but he treats you like he’d like to get into your drawers—and not the ones in your file cabinet.”

      She shrugged off the remark. “He razzes me because he doesn’t like defense attorneys.”

      Joe sighed. “Jeez, Hart. Have you been out of the dating loop so long that you don’t recognize a few come-ons? The guy’s got a hard—”

      Julie slapped a hand over Joe’s mouth. “My husband is trying to say—and failing miserably—that Daniel Fortune’s hot for you.”

      Alisha found that hard to believe. Yes, she worked at being attractive, both inside and out. Yes, she had worked hard for respect and had enjoyed substantial success in her thirty-two years. But as far as physical attributes were concerned, she had unruly red hair that she futilely flatironed every day only to be sabotaged by humidity—the reason why she’d kept it curly tonight. She was short, not particularly busty and she’d inherited her mother’s ample hips. Her skin practically blistered with only a few minutes of sun exposure, and although she didn’t have a forest full of freckles, she had more than her fair share. She certainly didn’t see herself as the kind of woman that would seriously interest Daniel Fortune. He probably preferred bombshell blondes with more body and less brain.

      Julie leaned forward and laid a hand on Alisha’s arm. “I can certainly understand why he would be interested in you. You’re very pretty and smart.”

      “And a redhead,” Joe added. “Men like redheads. A lot of mystery there. You know, about whether they’re natural redheads or not.”

      “We’re not going to discuss that, Joseph,” Julie said.

      He gave his wife a whipped-dog look. “Sorry, but it’s true. Anyway…” He looked back at Alisha. “You should do him. If I were a woman, I would.”

      Alisha rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Julie loves hearing that.”

      Joe aimed his grin on his wife. “She’d do him, too. Wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

      Julie batted her eyelashes. “Why would I want to when I have you, honey?”

      “Okay, let’s say you didn’t have me.”

      Julie shrugged. “Yeah, I’d do him. In a heartbeat.”

      Joe turned his attention back to Alisha. “See?”

      Time to quell the conversation before Alisha seriously considered the suggestion. “I don’t do prosecutors, okay?”

      Joe looked somewhat frustrated. “You don’t do anyone, Hart, and that’s your problem. You might be in a better mood if you got laid now and then.”

      “And you need to lay off her, Joe.” Julie smiled, exposing perfect white teeth to match her perfectly lined lips. “When she’s ready, she will.”

      Alisha wasn’t ready to do anything other than get out of there. But politeness dictated she hang around, at least for a while longer. Yet she found herself enduring the couple mooning over each other like two besotted teenagers, so obviously in love that only a fool couldn’t see it. Even their names sounded perfect—Joe and Julie, lovers extraordinaire. They did include her in general conversation a few times, but only to be nice, Alisha decided. She suspected they’d really like to be home and in bed, carrying on like most happy husbands and wives. That was so far out of the realm of Alisha’s comprehension that she found herself growing suddenly melancholy.

      Everyone in the world, or at least in the bar, had seemed to pair off. Even Billy Wade, who’d latched on to some big-haired blonde. He was singing “Auld Lang Syne” off-key and the woman didn’t even seem to mind. Alisha minded. He was definitely one acquaintance she’d rather forget. In fact, she wanted to forget this whole scene and go back to her apartment. At least there she wouldn’t have to tolerate watching everyone engaged in the traditional midnight kiss when a partial glass of warm champagne was the only thing available to wrap her lips around.

      She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “Listen, guys, I’m out of here. I’ll see you on Monday, Joe. Bright and early.”

      “Do you really have to go?” Julie asked.

      Alisha slipped her coat on and grabbed her purse from the empty chair beside her. “Yeah, I do. I’m tired.”

      “I understand.” Julie’s knowing expression said she did. Only a woman could appreciate another woman’s plight of being all alone during a party. “Why don’t you have dinner with us tomorrow? It’s just going to be the two of us.”

      “I’ll think about it,” Alisha said, knowing full well she’d already made her decision. As much as she loved being around the Alvarados, she hated being a third wheel more. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning and let you know.”

      “Be careful, Hart,” Joe said. “Lots of crazies on the streets tonight. But God forbid, if you are involved in an accident—” he hooked a thumb

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