Becky made a resigned noise. “Fine. I’ll clear your schedule. But I swear to God, Adrian, you’d better get out of this funk. Why don’t you, like, adopt a dog or something?”
My mom had said the same thing a few weeks ago. Apparently dogs are the answer to all life’s problems.
“Don’t get a cat,” she went on. “It’ll walk around pushing your drinks off the coffee table. You’re not emotionally strong enough for that.”
I snorted. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I have a friend who runs an animal rescue. They need people to foster dogs. Want me to get you one? If you like it, you can adopt it and if you don’t, someone else will.”
A dog wasn’t a horrible idea. I guess I could bring it to the office or something. Make Becky walk it while I was at court. I did miss feeling like I had a purpose.
I spent a lot of time with Mom and Grandma, but they’d moved to Nebraska with Mom’s new husband in October.
This was the event that had started me on the downward spiral Becky was picking up on. I was going to be alone for the holidays.
They’d invited me to join them, but I didn’t care for Mom’s husband, Richard. I hadn’t gone to their wedding in August, and I refused to join them for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Rachel’s visits had been the only thing I’d had to look forward to.
The sudden gaping black hole in my personal life was the nail in the coffin of my mood.
Our junior associate, Lenny, poked his head into the office and looked around Becky, who was still standing in front of my desk on her phone. “Hey, Becky just texted me and said you and Rachel broke up. Sucks, man.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I put the files I was taking home into my briefcase.
He leaned in my doorway with his arms crossed. “Hey, want to grab lunch this week? You got time?”
“He’s got time,” Becky said without glancing up from her phone.
I gave her a look before replying to Lenny. “Just tell me when.”
He tapped a knuckle on the door frame, gave me finger guns, and left.
Becky still stood in front of my desk, texting into her phone. She’d put the gum back in her mouth.
I sat there, waiting for her to notice that I was staring at her. “Becky…” I said, looking up at her, irritated.
She popped a bubble. “I think I found a dog for you.”
“Great. Wonderful. Please continue to find it at your own desk. And try to refrain from telling anyone else my personal business on your way there.”
She smirked, unfazed as usual, and turned for the exit.
Five minutes later, Marcus strolled in. “Hey, buddy.”
Marcus Beaker was the founder of my firm and my counterpart. He was fifty-two, bald, slightly overweight, and sharp as a tack. Married, and not happily, to a doctor wife who could barely stand him and liked to take long vacations without him.
We made a good team. I was a good front man for high-profile cases—rarely caught off guard and a favorite with the media. Marcus had a reputation for being a bulldog and was the only person I’d ever met who could match my work ethic.
He dropped into the chair in front of my desk. “I hear you’re cutting out early,” he said.
I knew why he was here. My going home before 5:00 was tantamount to an emergency siren wailing around the office. A prized racehorse limping around the track.
He didn’t have anything to worry about. I funneled my stress and unhappiness into work. I always had. Even in high school. The more shit I was dealing with, the more productive I became. It’s why I’d graduated early at the top of my class and coasted into college scholarships. My depressing personal life was currently driving this firm into the top five in Minnesota. I didn’t fault Marcus for checking on me though. I liked that he was shrewd.
“I’ve got two ex partes on Wednesday,” I said. “I can do the paperwork from home. I think I’m getting a migraine,” I lied.
Telling him my real reason would only add to his concern.
“I could always put someone else on the Keller case,” he said, talking to his tie as he smoothed it down.
I kept my expression neutral.
He did this to poke me. He was letting me know that whatever my problem was, he expected me to wrap it up quickly and get back to my job.
Again, I did like that he was shrewd.
I didn’t look up as I keyed in an email to Becky. “I don’t think anyone else could handle what I have going on.” I hit Send with a final tap and leveled my eyes on him.
Marcus leaned back in his chair, his fingers threaded across his belly. “Keller and Garcia? What have those two idiots done now?”
“Garcia violated his custody order and took his daughter over state lines to visit his mother last week. They’re asking for full loss of his parental rights until the conclusion of the trial.”
He bobbed his head. “The guy’s being indicted for tax evasion. It’s not a violent crime. They won’t grant it.”
“I know. Maybe a slap on the wrist.”
“And Keller?”
I scoffed. “His ex-wife caught him jerking off outside her window at two in the morning in violation of her restraining order.”
“Ouch,” he chuckled.
“She is also asking for loss of custody.”
He looked at his watch. “And she’ll get it. That guy cannot keep his dick in his pants. This isn’t going to help his assault case.”
“No, it is not.” And I wouldn’t trust anyone else but me to deal with it—and neither would he.
Marcus nodded for a moment. “Well, have a good night, then.” He got up, then paused with a hand on the back of the chair. “Hey, why don’t you come up to the cabin with us for Christmas next month? Jessica’s just put a hot tub on the deck.”
I shook my head. “I think I might head out to Nebraska. Mom’s been asking me to see the work they’ve done on the house.”
Another lie.
I didn’t like spending Christmas alone, but spending it with Marcus, hanging out with his cranky wife and watching their loveless marriage, was my idea of hell. Marcus’s career was a monument to hard work and dedication, but his personal life was a cautionary tale.
I wrapped up things at the office and left by 3:00.
Mom called while I was driving home.
I stared at the notification on my car’s Bluetooth. I was not in the right headspace for her, but I didn’t like sending her to voicemail in case something was wrong—which was highly likely given her circumstances.
I let out a long breath and hit the Answer Call button, mustering more enthusiasm than I felt. “Hey, Mom.”
“Adrian. I’m just calling to see how your Thanksgiving was.”
Of course.
She was calling to browbeat me into coming for Christmas. Hoping I’d learned my lesson after spending Thanksgiving alone and was now ready to play nice.
No.
“Thanksgiving was fine,” I said flatly.
It wasn’t fine. I’d spent the day by myself eating Chinese takeout and reading transcripts.
She let out a sigh. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know. We want you here. Please come for Christmas.”
My jaw ticked. “No.”