Scales: Of Justice (Broken But ... Mending Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

earlier as he’d guided her here. She shoved the thought deep inside and focused on her surroundings. The hotel restaurant was busy and didn’t look to be horribly expensive. It also catered to downtown businesses and should offer a decent selection of food.
    Not that she was very hungry.
    He led the way and took the seat furthest away. She slipped into the closest one.
    With a lift of a hand, the waitress came over immediately. As soon as she arrived, he ordered a double burger, fries, and coffee. When the waitress turned to Paris, she shrugged. “I don’t even know what you have here.”
    The waitress rattled off the daily special and snagged a menu off a neighboring table. Except when she reached for the menu, the waitress mentioned fish and chips. Paris dropped the menu and said, “I’ll have that, thanks.”
    After deciding on one or two pieces, and coleslaw and the fries, the waitress grabbed the menu. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with coffee,” she said, then hurried away.
    “Have you eaten here before?” Paris asked. “You seemed to know what to order.”
    “I had breakfast here.”
    “Oh.” That explained it. Paris hadn’t slept well and had missed breakfast. She’d slipped into the lecture room with a take-out coffee and nothing else. At least she hadn’t had a sugary cookie with it. But she’d been tempted.
    Fish and chips weren’t the healthiest of choices either, but she was really hungry and stressed and the afternoon was likely to be worse.
    “So how do you see this report working?” she asked. “I’m used to being given a few more parameters than this.”
    “Partly why Jenna didn’t give them to us.” He shrugged. “She also knows I’m in grad school, and we often have to come up with a thesis statement and write a report about it.”
    Paris sat in quiet contemplation for a moment. “And what are you envisioning with this report then?” And how the hell was it going to help her? She dropped her gaze to the table, her finger aimlessly tracing the diagonal pattern in the tabletop.
    “If you tell me why you’re so stuck on the one side of justice or how it has helped or hindered your transformation, then I’ll tell you mine. Our journey from here could be the report.”
    Paris sat back against the vinyl bench seat and stared. “And what if that journey is beyond us to make?”
    “The journey is the issue, not the end result. As long as we make the attempt, then that is the report.”
    Holding back a sneer, she replied, “You don’t seem to feel you have any traveling to do on that pathway.”
    He studied her, a surprised look in his gaze. “What makes you say that?”
    “Your complete detachment at the concept. It doesn’t make you afraid or worried in any way at the thought of doing something like this.”
    Instead of answering, he shifted his cutlery around in front of him.
    And she watched, understanding she’d hit a nerve. “We all have something to learn,” she said gently. “Even when we don’t think we do.”
    Lifting his head, his eyes shone. “I’m not saying I don’t have anything to learn. I’m just not sure I have anything to learn in this area…”
    “Ah. Interesting.”
    The waitress arrived, cutting off further speech. Paris watched as he attacked his plate of food with more enthusiasm than necessary. It said much about his state of mind. She smiled and lifted a fry. “See, you do have much to learn in this area.”
    He froze, his burger mid air, his gaze dark, defensive. “What I might have to learn doesn’t mean I’m ready or able or indeed willing to do so here.”
    “Ditto.”
    There was a moment of silence as he chewed and swallowed his food. “So tell me what you think about Justice. And then tell me what you’d like your stance to be.”
    How about the fact that she hated the topic? That she hated the concept of there being two sides to the issue. Since when was anything so clear-cut, so black and white. Figures that Jenna would