![]() She’s just a great fucking kid.Īfter we order, talk turns to our latest cases, the goings-on at the firm. If sunshine took human form, like some Greek myth, she would be Presley Shaw. She lives back in Mississippi with her mother, Stanton’s ex, but she comes to DC often enough that my friend has more than earned his Daddy moniker. Stanton’s daughter, Presley, is the sole exception. Cool, sweet baggage, sure, but baggage all the same. He’s a heavy hitter around the firm-his record is as impressive as my own-and he’s got his eye on a partnership. We met in law school and became roommates shortly after that. Originally a Mississippi farm boy, he’s honest, loyal, has a low tolerance for bullshit, and exudes an easy, genuine charm that women find irresistible-as do juries. ![]() Stanton Shaw is a good old boy-in every sense of the term. “Her ass is off-limits,” Stanton replies, scanning the menu. “My ass is always available for you, Mason.” Stanton pulls out Sofia’s chair for her, then sits in his own. ![]() “Hi.”īrent leans back in his chair, his dark blue gaze glinting with mischief. He kisses her with smiling lips and a sappy expression. Sofia stands up when he approaches, smoothing down her sleek black skirt, her four-inch heels lifting her to eye level with her boyfriend. ![]()
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