***For the purposes of this story, I am writing as though the COVID-19 Pandemic did not happen. This is not meant as disrespect to those who have suffered from it.***

FIVE YEARS LATER, September 2021

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

"Officer Korwynn, you and I both know you did not have a valid search warrant for this residence," Molly said, standing at the lectern. "So why did you force your way into the residence?"

The U.S. Immigrations and Customs Enforcement officer sitting in the witness box shifted in his seat. A sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead and Molly could practically smell the fop sweat from ten feet away. His uniform was wrinkled and she could see a small blob of mustard on his tie, probably from a hotdog off the cart outside the courthouse.

"We knew Mrs. Castillo was hiding inside, ma'am," Officer Korwynn replied. "We didn't want her to flee."

Molly shifted on her feet. "So what you're saying, Officer Korwynn, is that you openly disregarded the law of the land, forcibly entered a private residence without court-ordered permission, and proceeded to arrest a young mother as she nursed her infant in her bed?"

Officer Korwynn looked to the Prosecutor, who shrugged and put his hand over his mouth.

"Answer the question, please, Officer," Judge Brooks said, leaning back in his chair, hands clasps flat against his chest.

"Y-yes. But only because-," he started.

"Your Honor, I move to dismiss Mrs. Castillo's case on grounds of an unlawful arrest," Molly said, gathering her paperwork in front of her. "Mrs. Castillo was released from the detention facility on her own recognizance with the understanding that she would remain in her residence at all times except to check in with a parole officer. My client has not missed a meeting with her parole officer since her release several months ago and therefore does not pose any sort of flight risk. Furthermore, since her release she has had a baby and deportation would leave her child motherless as it is an American citizen. Officer Korwynn has regularly harrassed my client's family and has placed undue stress on her. Not to mention that the warrant was not valid for entry to my client's residence."

Judge Brooks looked over the paperwork in front of him. "You make a strong argument, Ms. Stanley," he said, lifting his gavel. "Case dismissed."

The sound of the gavel banging echoed through the court room and a wave of relief washed over Molly as the court stood and Judge Brooks started to walk back to his chambers.

"Thank you, your honor," she said, closing her file and walking back to the Defense table. She gave Mrs. Castillo a smile.

"¡Ganamos! Puede irse a casa, Josephine," she told her. "You can go home."

The young woman burst into a giant smile and reached for Molly's hand. "Gracias, muchas muchas gracias!"

Molly packed her files into her bag and led Mrs. Castillo out of the court room, past the Prosecution. "Better luck next time," she said in a light tone to the other lawyer.

"I'm assuming you won, from the grin on your face," Oscar Llewelyn said, coming up to them in the hallway.

"Case dismissed," Molly explained, high fiving him. "How'd you do?"

"Back again tomorrow," he said, sliding his jacket off and slinging it over his shoulder. "Prosecution took so many fucking recesses, I thought somebody was dying."

Josephine was greeted by several family members who started speaking to her in rapid Spanish. Molly hung back to talk to Oscar.

"You going to that benefit later tonight?" he asked, fishing for his car keys in his pocket.

"I have to. I promised Michelle I'd be there," Molly said. "Its not like I don't have twelve other cases to get through sitting on my desk at the office though," she added sarcastically.

"Aw come on," Oscar needled her. "Its for a good cause. Hey, maybe you can bang a multimillionaire and he'll drop a bunch of money into the organization because you're such a good fuck."

Molly rolled her eyes. "That's disgusting. Why do I have to do all the fucking? You've got a dick, get out there and use it."

Oscar laughed. "Sadly there aren't that many multimillionaire men who'd want me."

"Honey, this is Los Angeles. Its lousy with closeted gay millionaires who would jump at the chance to blow your back out in the back seat of their Porche Taycan behind the In-N-Out in Sherman Oaks," she quipped.

Oscar considered her for a second. "That was an...oddly specific example."

The lobby of the courthouse was full of other lawyers and their clients and their conversations created a dull roar around them.

"Want a ride back to the office?" Oscar asked, shouldering his bag and twirling his car keys around his finger.

She shook her head. "I'm staying to help Josephine work through the paperwork. Plus I drove here," she said. "I'll see you tonight though."

He nodded and waved before heading out the main doors to the parking lot. Molly watched him go before turning back to Josephine.

"Josephine, there is a bit of paperwork we need to do still before you can go home," she said, guiding the woman by her elbow away from her joyful family.

"I am sorry about the noise," Josephine said in heavily accented English. "They are just so happy you fixed the problem."

"I was happy to help. So was Bright Horizons," Molly said with a smile. "But you and I both know this is not the end. You still have several hearings ahead of you to handle your immigration status."

She led the woman to the clerk's office and walked her through the paperwork with the translator's help.

Molly was glad it was a Friday. Court was closed on the weekends. But while the judges enjoyed time with their families at Los Angeles' finest country clubs, Molly knew she'd be working. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Years ago, when she'd decided to become a lawyer, she knew it would be hard work. The work was made even harder by the fact that she worked for Bright Horizons, a legal aide organization that mostly handled cases for low income defendants. There was very little money to go around and even less time. But it was what she wanted.

She wanted to know she was making a direct impact on peoples' lives. And she did. She got falsely accused people off and helped immigrants gain legal status. She helped keep teenagers out of prison and kept families from being separated. And each win only validated her decision to become a lawyer.

Law school had been excruciating, but she'd done it. She'd done it all by herself, without any help from anyone. She'd gotten on the dean's list and passed the bar and found her niche in the world at Bright Horizons and that's where she'd been for the last three years. She had proven herself time and time again with the organization and had slowly gained her place and a reputation for winning.

Life had been good to her. Hard, but good. She was glad for the work because it made her days easier to fill. If she was working, then she never had to worry about the other aspects of her life. In the three years since she'd graduated, she'd attempted to find a healthy work/life balance.

And she'd failed.

Miserably.

Her eagerness to prove herself at work had meant that every other part of her life had fallen by the wayside and now that she had a guaranteed position and had turned down several other job offers, she was a socially stunted 28-year-old with a promiscuous gay roommate and a chinchilla named Randy. And she was happy with that.

Mostly.

Events like the benefit that evening were reminders of how much she hated being alone, and no matter how much she reminded herself that she was a strong, independent woman who didn't need anyone but herself, it always hurt to see everyone else coupled up. It also made the events a lot less awkward since she had someone to talk to and didn't have to make small talk with over-interested donors who had savior complexes.

But Oscar was right; the benefit was for a good cause and it was where Bright Horizons pulled in the bulk of its funding for the year. The right thing to do was make an appearance and help Michelle out. Plus, they always sprang for really good booze.

So when she was done with Josephine's paperwork, she headed back to the loft apartment she shared with Oscar and the aforementioned chinchilla. The loft had been home for the last three years. When money got a little tight, she had asked Oscar to move in with her to share the costs and they'd been inseparable ever since.

Three hours later, she found herself at the benefit standing awkwardly in a corner while her boss mingled with the attendees.

"See any good prospects?" Oscar asked as he handed her a wine glass.

"Nah. Not yet. Its still early though," she answered, sipping. "You?"

"Well a guy tried to grab my ass in the toilets a second ago, but I'm pretty sure he showed up in a Prius, so I don't think he's a good target," he replied. "Did you feed Randy before you left?" he asked.

Molly nodded. "The little fucker was sufficiently fed and watered."

"You look fantastic as always," he remarked.

She knew she looked good, that was why she picked the dress. For all her dislike of making awkward small talk, she did particularly enjoy having everyone's attention on her. The dress she had on that night was guaranteed to do just that. It was backless and had a high slit up one side, showing off her leg. The color looked perfect on her skin and she knew her dusky eye makeup made her eyes pop perfectly. She'd teased her hair into a braided up do and accessorized with a fresh flower she'd stolen from a floral arrangement in the lobby of their building on the way out. She looked completely fuckable and she knew it.

"Thank you," she answered, grinning. "I figured I should actually put in an effort if I was going to land a millionaire."

A waiter passed by, offering a tray of crudités. He gave Oscar a flirty smirk before continuing around the room. The ballroom was beautifully decorated with round tables scattered about topped with flower arrangements and candles. A stage was set up on one end of the room with several musical instruments already assembled and lights focused on it. A large banner bearing the Bright Horizons logo hung at the back.

"I heard DiCaprio might make an appearance tonight," Oscar said, downing his drink.

Molly scoffed. "No. He never comes. Big pseudo-anonymous check, but he never actually makes an appearance. It would help a fuck-ton if he did, though."

"Damn, I'm out," he replied. "Refill?" he asked.

They made their way to the bar on the side of the room, squeezing through the crowd that was forming as the evening progressed.

"Whiskey please," Oscar said. "And another red for the lady," he added.

The room was beginning to fill up. The DJ put on a faster song and the lights over the dance floor started to flash. Molly leaned against the bar as she waited for for drink.

"If you go home alone tonight, there is no justice in this world," Oscar said next to her, surveying the back of her dress. "I don't get how you can look so boring in court and so fantastic here."

"Fuck you," she said, rolling her eyes.

"We tried that, remember? Didn't go well," he quipped, sliding her freshly filled wine glass across the bar. "Uh oh. Look alive. Here comes the boss lady," he said under his breath, nudging her in the ribcage.

Michelle Cross was radiant in a light blue off-the-shoulder A-line dress. Her white-blonde hair was in a sleek chignon at the back of her head and a broad smile was plastered to her face. She was making the rounds with several people in tow, introducing them to each other.

Molly's phone buzzed and she reached into her clutch to check it. Oscar nudged her again, but she brushed him off.

"And these are two of the wonderful lawyers on staff," Michelle's voice drifted to Molly's ears. "I'm sure they can answer any questions you might have about the organization and how helpful your generous donation will be for us. Excuse me."

Molly looked up just in time to catch Michelle's dress sparkling in the light as she drifted off to mingle some more. When she saw the person standing in front of her, her heart stopped. Five years had thinned his baby fat and given him a bit more confidence, but he was still the same gangly guy she'd met five years before. Her phone slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

"Fuuuck," she said louder than she realized, other words seeming to fail her in the moment. Several people looked over at her in surprise.

He was there. In front of her. He bent down and picked up her phone, holding it out her with his long fingers.

"You'll have to excuse my colleague here. She was raised by wolves," Oscar said, giving her an incredulous look. "Oscar Llewelyn. Pleasure to meet you. And this is -," he gestured to her.

"Molly Stanley," the man said with a smirk and mischief in his green eyes. "You look stunning."

Molly felt like she might vomit at the sound of his voice. The second glass of wine and her empty stomach didn't help matters. Andrew Hozier-Byrne stood in front of her in a fashionable black suit and tie, his chin length brown hair neatly brushed and tamed. He looked suave and confident as he took her in. Meanwhile, a cold sweat had broken out across her lower back and she could feel several beads of it sliding down her ass crack.

"Hhh....h-hi," she stammered out, eyes wide, swallowing the bile that was threatening to erupt.

"You two know each other?" Oscar asked, looking between them in surprise.

"We're old friends," Andrew said easily, still holding out her phone.

She took it and fumbled with her clutch, trying to put it away. Her mind was racing, short-circuiting as it tried to process what was happening. Oscar opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted.

"Oscar, I'd love you to meet someone," Michelle said, reappearing at Oscar's side. "Molly, you can manage Andrew, can't you?"

"We'll be grand, thanks," Andrew answered for her with a quick smile.

From the look on Oscar's face as he walked away, she knew she'd be hearing more about this later in the night.

Andrew towered over everyone else in the room, but not in an imposing way - though his all-black ensemble made him look a little more serious. Molly struggled to form words as she stared up at him.

"Wh...how...are y...you h-he-ere?" she stammered out, kicking herself for sounding so stupid. Her stomach was tying itself in knots.

He smiled, seemingly enjoying her struggle. "How am I here? I took a car from my hotel, but I think from an existential point of view, the answer is a bit more complicated."

Smooth, she thought in spite of herself. He'd grown much more confident. Molly stared at him like a deer caught in headlights for several seconds.

He cleared his throat. "Ehm, I made a donation last year and they invited me along this year," he explained, running his fingers through his hair.

"So...you flew all the way from Ireland for this?" Molly asked, her palms sweating.

"I was actually in the city. I'm wrapping a leg of my tour up in a week. I've got a short residency at the Wiltern," Andrew explained.

Seeing him brought back a wave of memories she was not prepared for and her mind was moving at the speed of molasses as it tried to work through them all to focus on their conversation.

"You're touring? You - you have a new album out?" she asked, grateful to put the focus on him.

He ducked his head in a nod, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Yeah."

"That's, um, that's great for you," Molly stammered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Oscar finishing his conversation with another guest. She tried to send him a save me look, but he was either deliberately ignoring her or too busy scoping for potential bedmates for later that evening.

Fuck you, Llewelyn. I'll shave your damn eyebrows off in your sleep, Molly thought. Fine, I'll save my own damn self.

"Well, it was nice to see you again," she said, draining her wine glass and setting it back on the bar. "Thank you for the donation and your support. If you'll excuse me."

When she made to move, he took her by the wrist. "Molly, I..."

She jerked her hand away at the sudden spark that danced up her arm. Andrew held his hands up in a softening gesture.

"I've got some free time in the mornings next week. I'd love to take you to lunch or get coffee or something," he said slowly. "To catch up. As friends," he added. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and scribbled a phone number on it. "This is my number. Think about it."

She took the napkin with a polite smile and nod, not trusting her own words. Her head was spinning and her mouth was dry. She rushed to the bathroom as quickly as she could without causing a scene. Molly shut the stall door and leaned against the wood heavily. The famous line from Casablanca ran through her mind.

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world, she walks into mine.

Except she was a he and Molly wasn't exactly pining over him like Rick was for Ilsa. To say seeing Andrew again was a shock was a major understatement. When she had left Ireland, she assumed they'd never cross paths again. Why would they? He lived there, she lived in California. He was a musician, she was becoming a lawyer. Their worlds would never allign again. But apparently fate had other, more nefarious plans.

Of course, this was just one random meeting. They would never see each other again, and if she didn't go to coffee or lunch or whatever with him, then everything would be fine. Then again, he was a donor to Bright Horizons. Getting coffee would be the polite thing to do. A knock came at the door, jarring Molly from her thoughts.

"Occupied!" she called, holding the door handle tightly until she heard the other person move to another stall.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck, she thought, trying to gather herself. Okay. Just go out there and act normally. Its a crowded place. You can avoid him for the rest of the night.

She opened the stall door and walked over to wash her hands, steadying herself with each breath. Just as she was about to leave, her stomach rolled.

Nope, it told her, forcing her to vomit into the closest trash can.

Lovely.

***

Later that night, when she had washed the makeup from her face and hung her dress in her closet, Molly was sitting on the sofa cuddling Randy. She stroked his soft grey fur absentmindedly as she stared at the TV screen in front of her. An episode of The Golden Girls was playing and Dorothy and Blanche were at odds over a man. Randy's ears twitched as he heard a key in the lock and he looked over at the door, his tiny nose wiggling. A second later, Oscar came in.

His face fell when he saw her. "Oh. I thought you went home with somebody."

Molly sat up, looking behind him as he walked in. He was alone as well. "No luck?"

Oscar shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "Sadly my wiles couldn't catch me anything tonight." He tossed his keys and wallet into a small crystal bowl on the counter before kicking his shoes off. "So..." he started, walking over and climbing onto the sofa next to her with a knowing look. "Old friends, huh?"

She deliberately ignored his gaze. "What about them?" she asked, keeping her tone neutral.

"Care to explain to me how you're old friends with a Grammy winning musician who was the organization's second-largest donor last year?" Oscar needled, taking Randy from her lap and snuggling him against his face.

Molly's eyes widened. She had no idea Andrew had been that successful. Once she left, she had tried to keep him off her radar, avoiding the radio and even going so far as steering clear of the Irish pubs in town when the other lawyers on staff would go out for drinks after work. She was too busy working to watch award shows or pay much attention to them.

"Second-largest? How much did he give?" she asked, pausing the show.

Oscar shrugged. "Michelle wouldn't say exactly, but if we know Leo gives a million and the Carrs give $750,000 then he's somewhere in that range."

Mildred and Arthur Carr were a wealthy couple that had helped set up Bright Horizons years ago. Every year they would donate the same amount and every year, Arthur would grab Molly's butt during the company Christmas photo.

"So again, I ask you, how exactly are you old friends with Hozier?" Oscar asked, shifting so he was facing her.

Molly sighed. "I met him when I did that semester in Ireland," she explained. "I stayed on with one of my professors to see the sights for the summer."

Oscar blinked. "That's all you're gonna give me? The man remembered your name after five fucking years.  You must have had some friendship."

She fought to keep the heat from rising in her face as she thought about Andrew. Her roommate saw the redness and let out a loud laugh that startled Randy.

"Wait, do you know each other, as in the Biblical sense?" he asked. When she continued to look away, he stared at her in amazement. "Holy fucking hell, what's he like in bed?"

"Why would I tell you that?" she asked.

"Because I haven't had sex in five months and I think I might be dying inside," Oscar said quickly. "C'mon, give me something to keep me warm."

Molly rolled her eyes and stood up. "I am not giving you details of my sex life. Besides it was five years ago, I don't even remember that much."

"That's disappointing," he frowned. "He must not be that good if you can't even remember it."

"You don't even remember what you had for breakfast, so don't try it," she warned.

In truth, she did remember her time with Andrew. Despite her best efforts, the feeling of his fingers on her skin and his lips on hers had been permanently branded into her memory.

"What did you guys talk about?" Oscar asked, feeding Randy a raisin.

"He invited me to lunch. Or coffee," she blurted out from the kitchen as she rummaged for a snack in the tall cabinets.

"Oh my God, you have to go," he said.

"No I don't," she scoffed, looking away.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Oscar asked, catching on to her cagey behavior.

Molly sighed and turned to face him. "Because when I left Ireland, I didn't say goodbye to him. And I'm pretty sure he hates me for it."

"You shady bitch," he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah. I felt horrible about it but goodbyes suck. I didn't want to face him," she admitted, opening a jar of peanut butter.

"You have to go now," Oscar insisted. "You up and dipped on the poor asshole. He probably has a mountain of questions."

"He shouldn't," Molly said. "I left a note."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "How long were you with him?"

"Four months or so," she replied. "But it was casual. There were no promises or anything. I made sure he knew it was casual."

His eyebrows shot into his hairline at a realization. "Do you think he fell in love with you? And that's why he remembered you? After all this time?"

The thought hadn't crossed her mind until Oscar suggested it. Was that why he remembered her?

"Ok now you have to go, Mol," he urged. "Its just coffee. Not like you're getting married."