Dylan hid her laugh behind her hand as she ducked into her office.
“I’ll go,” Hadley whispered to me.
I sighed in relief, not ready to see him again so soon, especially not after what I’d said.
“Hi. I’m Hadley Winters, one of the partners here. Can I help you?” Hadley’s voice carried down the hall where I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t ask to see me.
“Griffin Locke. I was just in a meeting with Ms. Arrington. I forgot to get a copy of the paperwork I gave her.”
That voice. It was him. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. I should apologize, maybe over the phone, somewhere I couldn’t see his face.
Hadley came back down the hall on her way to the conference room. “I’ll grab the copies from the file.”
I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall, wondering if he’d decide not to use my help.
Hadley passed by me. I could hear the rumble of Griffin’s voice as he said goodbye. I opened my eyes when her heels sounded on the wood floor. “Did he hear me?”
Hadley crossed her arms over her chest. “You were loud.”
I winced. “Did he let on that he heard?”
“There was a muscle ticcing in his jaw right here.” She pointed at her cheek.
“That’s not a good sign.” I let out a slow breath.
“He didn’t fire you. Yet.”
I didn’t mention that he hadn’t hired me either. We never discussed or signed an attorney-client agreement and I hadn’t set a fee. I wasn’t prepared for him. For the first time in my life, I acted on instinct. He needed my help. I gave it to him without strings attached.
“Let it be known I said it was a terrible idea,” Dylan called from her office.
Chapter Two
Griffin
I saw red when I opened the letter from the insurance company indicating they were opening an investigation into Julian’s death. Even though it was probably standard procedure, it raised questions about how much I knew about Julian. Did he have mental health problems I didn’t know about? Should I have moved back to Maryland sooner? Could I have prevented his death?
When I’d gotten the call from the police, his boat was found abandoned, they were looking for his body, I thought it was a mistake. My next thought was I was supposed to be there. If I’d been where I was supposed to be, Julian would be alive. I would still have my brother. Declan would have his father.
Then I focused on the one thing I could control, giving Declan what his father wanted him to have.
If Julian had bothered to ask me to be his guardian, I would have said no. I was a poor substitute for his father.
Logistically, it made sense for me to move into Julian’s house until I could locate a more appropriate guardian. After reading the insurance company’s letter, I jogged down the steps, rounded the building, opening the door to Arrington, Gannon & Winters. In California, I had attorneys on call for this sort of thing, but I didn’t trust them anymore.
I didn’t trust Avery Arrington either. When I discovered the discrepancy in her firm’s lease, I thought she had to know she’d screwed me over. She claimed it was my mistake but she sounded hesitant. I decided to press my point, threatening legal action, but she was an attorney, a good one at that. I hoped she’d back down, agreeing to an increase in rent, instead she claimed breach of contract.
With every confrontation, she was feisty, quick to spar with me, but today she was different. I didn’t want anyone’s pity, but it was almost as if she cared about me and what I was going through, which was ridiculous.
I’d been an asshole to her from the beginning. No matter how angry she made me, something about our conversations was satisfying.
I was upset, distracted by the letter, reeling with the implications, overwhelmed with one more legal issue resulting from Julian’s death. Everything slowed when she greeted me. She was petite, her long dark hair almost black, her creamy white skin, long eyelashes over blue eyes. She was perfection.
She looked nothing like the fierce girl I sparred with on the phone. She looked fragile, breakable. I wanted to know who the real Avery was, the feisty woman on the phone or the caring woman who helped me without question?
She never once mentioned her lease during the meeting. Instead, she asked insightful questions, bringing up other legal issues, offered to help me with all of them, and it wasn’t in a ‘I want you as my client’ kind of way. It was more ‘I want to help you because you’re my friend.’ Except we weren’t.
We weren’t anything, which was made clear when I returned for a copy of the insurance paperwork, overhearing her conversation with the other attorney. Griffin Locke is insufferable. I couldn’t dispute her observation even if I thought we’d set aside our differences in that conference room. I felt a connection with her, a bone-deep understanding between us. Instead, she’d only helped me out of pity.
I swore she wanted to reach out and touch my arm, comfort me, except I didn’t need comfort. The legal and financial details surrounding Julian’s death were mounting.
I needed to pick up Declan from camp. I needed to make dinner. I needed to find someone who was better equipped to be his parent. The first thought I’d had when I learned my ex cheated on me, was relief we didn’t have any kids. I moved home, a month later Julian died, naming me Declan’s guardian. I wasn’t a good choice. Why had Julian trusted me to raise him?
Declan’s mother left when he was only a few months old. She hadn’t planned on a baby. They weren’t in a relationship. Julian said she had big plans for her life that didn’t involve raising a kid.
After Julian died, I had her investigated. She moved from place to place, from one guy to another. She never worked for long. As soon as she found a man, she quit her job, relying on him to support her. When she burned through that guy, she moved on again. No other kids. She’d never been married. She wasn’t the staying type. The responsible type.
The important thing was Julian stepped into the single-parent role. I admired him for it. Now I was being asked to do the same. I wasn’t sure I was the man for the job. I knew nothing about kids. I’d only lived here a month or so before Julian died. It wasn’t long enough to bond with Declan.
I pulled into the pick-up line for camp. Inching forward until I was in front of a tired-looking Declan, he opened the door, climbing inside, sighing as he threw his lunch bag on the seat next to him.
I pulled away from the curb before greeting him. “How was camp?”
“It was okay.” He looked out the window. After Julian’s death, Declan’s personality was muted. He didn’t seem to feel things. He didn’t smile. He didn’t get excited. In the spring, he went to school, did his homework, went through the motions of life. It was heartbreaking I couldn’t fix it for him.
“It will get better.” I didn’t know if I was saying it to myself or to him. We were both grieving my brother’s death, adjusting to this new life without him. I felt like a boat with no rudder, spinning aimlessly in the wind.
Declan didn’t respond, pulling a book out of his bag.
Would he be happier with my parents? Was I doing him a disservice by taking care of him? “Would you want to move closer to Grandma and Grandpa?”