Instead of her relaxed day, she’d been dealing with what was one of the ugliest divorces she’s ever had the pleasure of litigating. Becoming one of the city’s top divorce attorneys didn’t happen to people who refused to work during emergency meetings, though, no matter the day.

Really, it was Christmas. So, what did she expect? She’d naively thought that because Amanda had broken up with her – read: cheated on and left her – two weeks ago, her holiday bad luck for the year was used up. Clearly, she should never underestimate the evils of this time of the year.

She grimaces as her foot is suddenly soaked in a cold, wet puddle that she hadn’t noticed from an earlier snowstorm that is now melting – so much for a white Christmas.

“Season’s greetings, in-fucking-deed,” she mutters as she shakes her foot out and opens the door to the café, that one last thing going wrong today making the decision for her. Coffee or bust.

Of course, it’s decorated to the nines with garlands and Christmas lights and there’s I’ll Be Home For Christmas playing over the speaker. The large specials board is decked out with an admittedly well drawn Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on the side, making it look like he’s speaking the specials aloud.

The gaudy decorations make her grimace.

Still. She didn’t even have lunch and, honestly, she’s already going to be late for dinner – a cardinal offense to her mom, just her Christmas luck – so, she may as well get herself something to help get through the amount of ribbing she is about to get from her brothers.

It’s already starting; she has texts from Jared and Brian informing her that their mother is going to carve her rather than the roast when she arrives. Ugh, good lord, she hasn’t even considered how many questions and comments she’s going to get about her breakup.

If she is going to be carved and interrogated, then she is going to go down fully caffeinated.

“Can I get a –” The rest of her order falls away in surprise as the barista turns around. Ash blonde hair that’s tied into a high ponytail swishes over a slim shoulder and a pair of distinctive stone gray eyes meet her own.

The very last place she expects to see Hannah Dalton is serving coffee in a hipster-y café in downtown Boston.

Then again, it isn’t like she’s thought about Hannah in the last year. Much. Not since she left Wilkens & Granger LLP, given that she’d only known her as her previous coworker’s wife and all.