“That’s Hadley’s baby, it’s a speech therapy program she started in New Orleans’ schools. This was the night she announced her intention to expand into Annapolis.”
“That’s impressive. It says her father withdrew his backing.”
“That’s right.” Her words were stilted.
“Why?” I detected an undercurrent in her answer as if she didn’t want to offer more information. It’s seemed odd a father would do that unless he didn’t believe in the program.
Avery’s face was grim. “You really shouldn’t go into business with family.”
Or friends. “Is she in need of an investor?”
“We’re looking. The firm is helping, but we can’t fund her yet.” She licked her lips, her gaze on the newspaper clipping.
My gaze dropped to her lips before I forced myself to look away. It was a worthy cause, but I wasn’t prepared to partner with anyone, not even as a silent investor. “We should focus on why we’re here.”
“I’m sorry. Of course.” She shifted through the paperwork I’d brought. “I can administer the estate for you. The firm will receive a portion as a fee.”
“I know how it works.” I’d researched my options when Julian died, realizing I’d lose a portion of the funds, but at this point, it was worth the loss to take it off my plate.
“I’ll file a petition to administer the estate, value his assets. What did you want to do with his house?”
Despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, I said, “Eventually, I’d like to sell it, move to our own place.”
She looked up at me in surprise. “Are you sure Declan will be okay with selling?”
Her question felt personal, not like an attorney questioning a client. It didn’t feel like she was pressing, more like she cared, but I didn’t want to get too personal. “Like I said, eventually, we’ll be ready. We’re not there yet.”
Avery’s expression changed from concerned to professional. “Would you like me to handle changing the deed into your name?”
“Please handle whatever you think needs to be dealt with. I’d really appreciate it. I want to focus on Declan and his immediate needs.”
Something passed over her features, softening them. “That’s commendable.”
“He’s the one who’s vulnerable in this situation.” It felt weird to discuss something so personal outside of my family.
“Is he the only one?” Her voice lowered, her eyes traveled over my face.
I cleared my throat. I grieved my brother, but the guilt lingered from my part in his accident. I couldn’t let go of the idea that if I’d been there, none of this would be happening.
“Have you talked to anyone?” Her head tilted.
I leaned back to gain a little distance. Since Julian died only my parents expressed concern. Avery reminded me of what it was like to have a girlfriend, someone who was always there for me. “Who would I talk to?”
“A counselor. I know it’s not my place, but maybe it would help.” She smiled as if to lighten the intensity of the last few seconds.
“I’m fine. You’re handling the estate, I’m handling Declan.” I made my voice intentionally cool in a warning for her to back off.
She opened her mouth as if to respond but then closed it again, giving me a tight smile. “Have you made any decisions regarding guardianship?”
“I’m caring for him. We aren’t close to any other family members. Not close enough I’d feel comfortable with Declan living with them.” I hadn’t officially decided, but there didn’t seem to be a better option.
She straightened her spine. “That’s good. I called the life insurance company. They’re almost done with their investigation. There should be an answer one way or the other in the next couple of weeks.”
“Good. Regardless of the insurance company’s decision, I want to set up a trust for Declan so that he’s protected should anything happen to me.”
Her eyes flashed with respect. “I’m happy to help you with that.”
After we discussed an appropriate amount for the trust, parameters for the financial trustee, the appropriate time for Declan to have access to the full amount, she promised to contact me when the paperwork was completed.
She stood, pausing next to my chair. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “There’s no shame talking to someone—it doesn’t have to be a counselor. Maybe a friend or a parent.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“I grew up with parents who were focused on work. When my brother acted out, they sent him to military school.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They worked all the time, didn’t have the energy or the interest in taking us places, driving us to extracurriculars, it was all about them. I’m not saying you’re like that—”
“That must have been lonely.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I couldn’t imagine growing up, afraid if I acted up, I’d be sent away.
She considered my words for a second, her hand still on my shoulder, warm and comforting. I wanted to close my eyes, reveling in her touch. Instead, I focused on her reaction.
Her smile was tight. “I was fine. I worked hard, went to law school, opened this firm.”
Surely she realized her parents weren’t exactly normal. “Are you sure about that?”
She removed her hand from my shoulder, shuttering her eyes, withdrawing physically and emotionally. I regretted saying anything. I didn’t want to create distance between us.
“They raised two successful adults. I’m an attorney and my brother, Mason, is a Navy pilot. They might not have been conventional, but we turned out okay.”
I should gather my things to leave but I wanted to know more. “Are you close to your brother?”
“We were eight years apart in age. I was young when he left for good.”
“You don’t keep in touch now?” I shifted to face her, wanting to see her expression, find proof she felt something about her family, her past.
Her nose wrinkled. “My parents keep me updated on what he’s doing. Like I said, we were never close.”
“That sucks.” I couldn’t imagine not being close with Julian. We were friends growing up because we were so close in age, but when Damon and Lorelai betrayed me, he was the only one I could trust.
“You were close with your brother.” Her voice was soft, her head tilted slightly, nothing but genuine curiosity filled her eyes.
“Yeah. We were only two years apart. I was older, so I was protective of him in high school.” I hesitated, watching her carefully, wondering if opening up to her would prompt her to do the same. “Kids picked on him.”
“He was bullied?” She stilled, waiting for my answer.
“Not after I stepped in. But by the time I graduated, he’d bulked up. He cared for himself.” I still worried about him because he was my younger brother.
She smiled, but it was brittle. “That’s good. Kids can be brutal.”
I wanted to ask, were they brutal to you, but I didn’t. We’d already shared too much personal information for an attorney-client relationship.