Harley has one of those smiles that touches her big brown eyes, like it truly means something. She’s stunningly gorgeous, with flawless dark brown skin and cheekbones that could cut glass, but she’s also by far the most compassionate and empathetic person I’ve ever met, and I really have no idea why she’s friends with me. Her job as a public defender—which she chose specifically to help those who can’t afford legal representation, despite getting offers from all the top legal firms—actually matters in the grand scheme of life, unlike the elitist cesspool that is my job. Was my job.

She sweeps her long black box braids over her shoulder. “Want to talk about it now?”

I purse my lips and shake my head. “I think I’ll only be able to say it once. Besides, we should put our name in, looks like there’s going to be a wait.”

She holds out her arm for me to link mine through. “I made a reservation.”

I bend down so I can rest my head on her shoulder. “Of course you did.”

Harley leads us into the bar, and a host takes us out to the back patio. We slide into seats across from each other, and I immediately reach for the drinks menu. The April evening air is just the right amount of chilly, but I’m going to need to either start drinking or put on my jacket, and I really don’t want to detract from my cute outfit: army-green cargo pants fitted through the calf and loose around my hips, paired with a black tank top and lots of gold jewelry.

So drinks it is. I order two different cocktails while Harley requests a sparkling water.

I shoot her a death-beam glare.

“I have to work tomorrow. Justice doesn’t serve itself.” She gives me an apologetic shrug. “I’m sure Nick will be happy to get wasted with you.”

“Speak of the devil.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively at Harley while raising my hand to wave to Nick.

Nick is everything I normally like in a man: tall, muscular, floppy brown hair, family money, and a gorgeous smile. He looks like a 2005 Abercrombie ad threw up all over him, spray tan and all. Unfortunately, he’s also the nicest guy I’ve ever met, which totally zaps all my sexual tingles. Luckily, his cinnamon-roll core wasn’t immediately obvious when we shared a class together freshman year at Columbia, otherwise I never would’ve propositioned him. When he politely asked to get to know me better first, I knew there was no future for us, and he quickly became one of my best friends in the world, the perfect complement to the trio Harley, Gem, and I automatically formed as suitemates.

“How are two of my three best gals?” He leans over and kisses each of us on the cheek before taking the seat next to Harley.