He kept a pot going all day when he was in the office and generally managed to make it to the bottom before quitting time, which tended to vary dramatically, depending how many cases he was working on. He also had a bottle of rum stored in a bottom desk drawer, but he was a beer man, so he only brought it out to share with the occasional client.The coffeemaker had shut down hours before, so Luke placed his cup in the microwave and zapped it for two minutes. It came out hot as Hades. He carefully took a sip, trying to avoid burning off the top layer of his taste buds, but he couldn’t abide coffee unless it was blistering. Something about a one-time ex-girlfriend who’d poured him a cup and said, “Lukewarm. Made for you, sweet thing.” She, of course, was long gone. Anyone who called him sweet thing and/or made a play on words of his name would be long gone. Luke’s motto was get real or get out. He’d bent that rule with Iris to unwelcome results.His cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID.
