“The sister had a chance. She knew her mother was dying, that there was a finite time left. But she didn’t use it to be with her, to say good-bye, to say all the things most people think they have endless time to say. Now she wants her cut, and she’s willing to destroy her relationship, such as it is, with her siblings. Add to her sister’s grief. For what? For money. I don’t understand how ... Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It occurs to me I’ve never thought very much about what you do. I just figured lawyer stuff.”

He managed a smile. “I do lawyer stuff. This is lawyer stuff.”

“No, I mean, just the lawyer stuff that pretty much annoys the rest of the world. Sign this, file that—and the this and that is so complicated and written in such ridiculous language it’s more annoying.”

“We lawyer types enjoy our ‘whereases.’ ”

“With or without the stupid ‘whereases,’ it’s about people.Your client’s still going to grieve, but her stress is lightened because she knows you’re behind her. It matters a lot what you do, and I’d never thought about it.”

She lifted her hand to touch his face. “Eat a cupcake.”

To please her, she imagined, he took a bite. And this time when he smiled, it reached his eyes. “It’s good. It’s happy. This one’s gotten under my skin. I don’t think I realized how much until you were here to dump on.”

“Is it what you were working on last night?”

“Primarily”

“And why you’re tired today. You hardly ever look tired. I could come over tonight, fix you a meal.”

“Don’t you have a rehearsal tonight, and an event tomorrow?”

“I can shuffle things around tonight. Tomorrow’s tomorrow.”

“I should look tired more often. How about I come to you? I’ve been buried here or at home the last couple of days. Change of scene wouldn’t hurt. Neither would being with you. I’ve missed being with you.”

Her heart melted, and she went into his arms for a kiss that was anything but absent. When he rested his cheek on the top of her head, his phone beeped. “Next client,” he murmured.

“I’m clearing out. Share the cupcakes.”

“Maybe.”

“If you eat the dozen, you’ll be sick—and entirely too full for that meal. Though you might want to remember I’m a better baker than I am a cook.”

“I can pick up a pizza,” he called out, and heard her laugh as she walked away.

He took another moment with his coffee and his cupcake, and thoughts of her. He hadn’t meant to say all that about the client, and her situation. Hadn’t realized, really, how angry he was about that situation. And the client didn’t pay him to be angry, but to represent her interests.