The lawyer’s smile was wan and neutral. “Lane Wilder.” And then he opened the door and pointed to a perfectly normal sedan in the parking lot. “And until we talk, you’re saying nothing to anyone.” As he hit the key fob, he winked at her. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

•   •   •

Thirty minutes later, Ronnie was sitting in Mr. Cromwell’s office, a small storefront in a strip mall only a few blocks away. The room had fake wood paneling, a bunch of law books on shelves, and two bronze bookends shaped like frogs.

Lane sat next to her, his hands cupped over his knees. Ronnie couldn’t look at him, she was so burning with shame. “How did this news get out?” she asked the lawyer. “How do people know that I . . . you know?” She glanced sheepishly at Lane again. She couldn’t say Topless Maids out loud.

“Well, we aren’t sure about that,” Cromwell said. “Cops get information from all over, though.” He had kind eyes that disappeared into the folds of his skin when he smiled, a round belly over khaki trousers, and strangely large feet. “Not that it has anything to do with anything. Chances are it was just some asshole wanting to share some gossip.”

Ronnie could only peek at Lane peripherally. “I’m so sorry. About all of this.”

Lane shrugged and looked away. “There’s no point in getting into it right now.”

“But I should have told you from the start. I just thought you’d leave me, and . . .” She trailed off. Lane was right. This probably wasn’t the time or place.

“I didn’t hurt Piper, Lane,” Ronnie said slowly, regrouping. She was very aware of the conversation that she and Lane had had just a few days earlier, while they were sitting on the balcony. “I mean, when we had that talk about me not liking her—I didn’t mean anything by that. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Lane’s gaze nervously cut to Cromwell. “Ronnie thought Piper—the moms in general—were judging her. Because she’s not from here.”

“And because I’m a dancer,” Ronnie mumbled.

“Yes, but no one knew that, did they?” Lane asked. Though then he added, to himself, “Oh. That’s why you brought that up the other day, isn’t it? That’s why you were worried. Because you thought someone did know.”

“No one else heard the conversation,” Ronnie told Cromwell. “It was just between us. But I’d never hurt anyone.”

Although as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she felt like a fraud.

“Does someone have something against you?” Mr. Cromwell asked Ronnie. “Perhaps a client? Maybe they released the information? Found out somehow you were there?”