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Dearborn. Michigan. You?”
    “Fort Lauderdale born and bred,” I said. “Went to school in Miami, so I lived in Coral Gables for about five years, but then right back here.”
    “University of Miami?”
    “Where else? You?”
    “Duke.”
    “Well, la-di-dah,” I said with a grin, and he laughed. “What made you come down here?”
    “I was offered a job straight out of law school down here, with the contingency that I pass the Florida bar. The firm made me an amazing offer, and I have no ties anywhere else. I would have been crazy to pass it up.”
    “No family back in Dearborn?”
    “I have two sisters that both live in Philly, and my parents are retired. They spend all their days traveling now, so there is no home base. Last I heard they were touring vineyards in Tuscany.”
    “Must be nice.”
    “That’s what I said.” He grinned.
    God, his grin should be illegal. I blinked away the sight of Jordan’s amazing smile and spent a moment people watching through the Starbucks window. It was silly, really, but I didn’t want to know any more about him. I didn’t want to know any more about his life or his family, his interesting parents or his success at his job. I already liked him way too much. Besides, who was I kidding? I didn’t want to get to know him. I wanted to do him. Or be done by him. It didn’t matter what order.
    “The only thing I regret about the move is the weather,” he said. “But the benefits are good.”
    “If that Benz is a sign of how much they’re paying you, they must be pleased with you indeed.”
    “I don’t know about that. I was supposed to be in court today and sent a junior associate instead,” he said, smiling that ridiculous smile. “So they’re going to pitch a shit fit.”
    “Ah, the benefits of working for myself.” I pulled out my phone and thumbed through the applications until I brought up the word processing app. I typed Jordan in all caps at the top of the page before giving him a frank look. “Which brings us to the crux of the matter, I suppose. Tell me, Jordan,” I said in my usual blunt manner, “who the hell would cheat on you?”
    He went red a little, which should have made him look like a tomato. It didn’t. “I suppose there’s a way to snatch a compliment out of that.”
    I shrugged. “Take it how you will.” I leaned back in my chair. “Let me guess. Some girl you want to marry, but you think she’s after your money?”
    “Rachel has her own money,” he said. “I just feel like we’re not clicking like we used to. All of a sudden, there’s like this wall between us.”
    “And you thought, ding , I need a private eye?”
    “No, I thought I should follow her. See what she’s up to. Who she’s into. Then a private eye caught me,” he said, making me laugh. “And now I think you might be a little better at surveillance than me.”
    “Give me some details,” I said, rubbing my hands together.
    He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what would help you. What are you looking for?”
    “Something salacious, honey. I don’t give a damn about helpful.”
    He looked startled before laughing. “You’re a bit crazy, no?”
    “And don’t think I don’t know it. Where’d you meet? What’s she look like? What are her routines?”
    He spent the next fifteen minutes giving me the rundown on who, exactly, Ms. Rachel Graven was. A Stanford graduate with a high IQ. An only child whose stepsister gave Jordan the willies with her excessive flirting. An associate at a firm in the same building, but foreclosures and asset seizure as opposed to his tax law. Worked eighty-hour weeks and was back for more on Monday. Dark hair, dark eyes, and an affinity for blood red lipstick. Oh no, girlfriend . She sounded like one cold, smart bitch. If she wasn’t cheating on him, she could be my new drinking partner.
    “I don’t know.” His deep sigh tugged on my heartstrings a little. “Maybe she’s just not that into me,” he said with a