"I don't know. At first, I had my doubts about her-I definitely thought so. But she seems to believe me. Maybe." He rubbed his hands up and down his face. "I just don't know."
Then Nick smiled. "I'll tell you one thing. She's hot."
"Nick! We're talking about your life here, and all you can think about is your lawyer's body?"
"I care about what happens to me. I'm just saying. . ."
What am I saying? Only that Constance Westerley, a woman from a completely different world than his, was powerfully stuck in his head. Tall and willowy, a pretty face, and chocolate brown eyes that flashed when they got angry.
But somehow, he trusted her. He couldn't say why, and he hoped it wasn't just his libido talking. Something deep down told him that she was on his side, not just some representative of the system that was about to plow him under. If anyone could help him, she was the one. Not some friend of a friend of Don, who would charge him more money than he could afford.
"Look, I know you want to help. Let me see what my lawyer can do, and then I'll decide if we should look for someone else." He might want someone else to get him out of jail, but he wanted Constance Westerley for many other reasons.