Shame on Him
Author:Tara Sivec

We were hired by another law firm to deliver the subpoena to Richard. Since I’m the one who works at the courthouse, it was a given that I’d be in charge of this job.

“All right, good luck with that. I’ve seen pictures of him in Forbes. That man is hot as hell. Don’t fall victim to his good looks and charm,” Paige teases.

Like that would ever happen. First of all, Richard Covington is still technically married. That’s not something I would go near with a ten-foot pole. I’ve been married to a cheater who liked men. I’m not about to fall for a straight cheater in the middle of a vicious divorce battle. His ex is trying to take Mr. Wandering-Eye Moneybags for all he’s got.

There isn’t a man alive right now worth giving up my independence for.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to resist him, Paige,” I tell her with a roll of my eyes as I start up my car. “This subpoena is asking him to turn over all records of his Internet usage. Men like him are too cocky to ever delete their Internet history.”

“I bet he’s got some kinky fetishes too. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when the divorce lawyers go through his computer,” she says with a sigh.

“Seriously, Paige? You were just telling me how good-looking he was like you thought I should make a go for him. It’s nice to know you have my best interests at heart,” I say.

“Hey, kinky fetishes can be fun. Unless he’s into barnyard animals.”

I try not to gag at that mental image. “That’s disgusting.”

“You never know. It could just be some fun S&M or three-way action. He’s hot enough for you to forgive a little proclivity like that,” Paige tells me with a laugh.

“I’m hanging up now, Paige. This conversation has officially made its descent right into the gutter.”

“Can I help it if I want you to find someone and be happy like I am?” she asks.

“I’m perfectly happy on my own. I told you that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lorelei. One of these days you’re going to find a man who will change everything,” she warns.

I sigh and wish she could see me shaking my head at her. “I already met the man who did that. He’s now getting married to a waiter from my favorite Italian restaurant.”

Even if I wanted to take a chance again, it’s not like I have the time. My caseload for the firm is reaching epic proportions and I’ve been trying to handle more things at Fool Me Once so Kennedy and Paige can have more free time with the men in their lives.

“I’m not giving up on you, Lorelei. There’s hope for you yet. Call me when you’re finished with the subpoena. Matt has a meeting and Kennedy mentioned something about us going out for drinks to discuss a few new cases that came in.”

I end the call with a promise to call her back and toss my cell phone onto the passenger seat. I could use a girls’ night out. I’m having dinner with my parents next weekend and I need some advice from my friends on whether or not it’s time to come clean with them about Fool Me Once.

Thankfully, all that’s involved with this subpoena is knocking on Richard Covington’s door, having him verbally confirm his identity, and then handing over the document. I should be on my way to meet Kennedy and Paige within the hour.


Twenty minutes later I pull into Breakwater Village, the gated community in the city of Granger, where Richard Covington lives. After I give my information to the guard at the gate, he takes down my license plate number and waves me through.

Due to my parents’ careers, I grew up in a home that some might call a mansion among some of the wealthiest people in Indiana. Every weekend we attended one function or another at country clubs or the lavish homes of these friends. And with my law career, I’m used to being around people of wealth and stature and spending evenings in their large homes. But even I’m a little bit in shock as I pull into Richard Covington’s circular driveway.

The house looming in front of me is a beautiful English manor situated on a large wooded lot with professionally landscaped shrubbery and flower gardens. Though it’s large, it doesn’t quite block the lake and boat dock behind it. I get out of my car and smooth my hands down the front of my Chanel suit, checking my reflection in the car window to make sure my shoulder-length straight brown hair is still in order.

My mother would have a field day if she knew I was walking up to Richard Covington’s front door right now. She’s been trying to get Richard to attend one of her charity events for years now. According to the Forbes magazine article that Paige referred to, he is the richest man in Indiana. His fortune, now in the billions, was made when he invented a medical device in his final year of med school.

Clutching the subpoena in my hand, I ring the doorbell and wait.

And then wait some more.

I parked behind a brand-new Cadillac in the driveway, so I’m assuming someone has to be here.

I ring the doorbell again and, after waiting another few minutes without an answer, I reach up and knock. The door pushes open as soon as my knuckles rap against the wood.

Looking nervously back over my shoulder first, I slowly poke my head through the doorway. “Mr. Covington?”

There’s no response to my shout except for the tick of a clock in the entryway. Something doesn’t feel right about this. My gut is telling me to leave and try again at another time. Unfortunately, my brain is reminding me that I should just suck it up, because this is what I want to do with my life. Not deliver subpoenas, per se, but detective work—something thrilling, challenging, and that actually makes me happy.

Deciding to listen to my brain like I always do, I take a tentative step into the house and try calling out again. “Mr. Covington? Hello? Is anyone home?”