Kelly's jaw tightened. She could feel the weight of unspoken history pressing between them—the hotel room in Rochester, the stolen afternoons that had seemed like justice of a different kind, the way his hands had traced the line of her collarbone while she whispered case details she had no business sharing.
She pushed the memory away. "Marcus Webb," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the quickening of her pulse. "I assume you know who I'm meeting with."
James's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. His fingers tightened around his briefcase handle. For a moment, she thought he might deflect, might pretend he didn't know exactly which client she was here to see. But then something flickered across his face—a crack in the armor.
"I know," he said finally.
The admission hung between them like a confession. He'd been reviewing Marcus's file. That meant he was taking the case seriously enough to prepare, or seriously enough to prepare a counterargument. Kelly couldn't tell which, and the uncertainty gnawed at her.
"Then you know what I'm about to prove," Kelly said, her voice dropping lower. She glanced around the courthouse steps, suddenly aware of how exposed they were. A couple of lawyers were making their way up the stone stairs behind them, their voices carrying on the cold wind.
James's eyes hardened. "I know what you're going to try to prove. That's not the same thing."
"The evidence is there, James. The safety reports—"
"Not now," he interrupted, his voice sharp. He stepped closer, and Kelly caught the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the institutional smell of courthouse air. "Not here. This isn't the place."
It was a warning wrapped in something that might have been concern. Kelly recognized it because she'd heard it before, in different contexts, always from him. Always this tension between what he wanted to say and what his position allowed him to say.
"Then where?" she asked, meeting his gaze directly. "Because we need to talk about this case, James. One way or another, we're going to have to face each other across a courtroom."
His jaw clenched. She could see the internal struggle playing out behind his eyes—duty versus doubt, ambition versus something deeper that she wasn't sure either of them fully understood.