“Weren’t you the one who said you prefer the wrong woman, so you have a built-in excuse not to call her the day after your tawdry affair?”
She’s good with the details. Maybe she wouldn’t make such a bad attorney after all.
“That was years ago, and tawdry is not a word synonymous with me. I’m top-notch and more than generous if you know what I mean.”
I expect a laugh or knowing grin at the very least, but she silently crosses the room to look out the window instead. Her gaze lengthens into the distance of the Manhattan skyline. It’s unlike her not to volley when I give her the perfect setup.
When the silence extends, I notice the change in her demeanor—all lightness being held hostage by the thoughts that appear to consume her. I sit forward again and pick up a pen. “It’s quite a trek from Brooklyn for a one-hour lunch break. Anything specific bring you by?”
Hesitant, she exhales slowly. “Yes.”
Her apprehension concerns me. She’s not usually one to hide her feelings. “What’s going on, Tealey?”
“Rad?” With her Bahama blue eyes set on mine, she drags her teeth over her lip. “I need . . . I need you.”
The pen snaps, causing us both to look down at the ink on my hands. “Shit.”
She rushes to grab a tissue from the box on the shelf and then to me. “What happened?” Taking my hand in hers, she starts rubbing my palm to no great avail.
Stopping her by stilling her hand, I ask, “You need me?”
“Yes, I need someone I can trust,” she replies, returning to the distraction of my hands. Peeking at me from under long lashes, she adds, “A lawyer, and you’re a lawyer.”
Was it foolish to even consider the idea of her meaning anything more than needing my legal skills? Probably. Yet, because of the fool I am, I stupidly believed this was some long-overdue opportunity to . . . to what exactly? Clenching my jaw, I run through what the hell I thought this could be—a hookup, a precursor to a date? The whole situation with Tealey is impossible.
Fucking fool.
I switch gears, burying my personal feelings. “Why do you need an attorney?”
Losing hope for cleaning my hands, she looks around the office as if her nerves have taken over. “Anything you can offer, advice or otherwise, I’ll take.”
“I’ll help if I can. What’s your concern?”
Whispering, she adds, “Preferably free.” Embarrassment taints her cheeks as she drags her eyes away from mine. “I can’t offer much in return—”
“Hey?” When she looks my way, somberness washes over her usually happy expression. “What’s going on, Tealey?”
“I need a divorce.”
As if the needing me didn’t shock me enough, my jaw slacks as I realize I was wrong. She’d absolutely kick my ass in court by the way she throws tidbits out like bombs. I’m so confused by this curveball that I stumble through my next words. “I didn’t know, know you were married.”
“I’m not.” Thank fuck. Her hand rests against her chest, and she adds, “It’s not for me. It’s for someone I’m working with.”
“A case?”
Her eyes lower, dragging the corners of her lips down with them. “Yes, a woman I’m working with at the social services office. She has two kids. I found a place for them to stay for a short time, a safe place, but we’re trying to help her move to Philadelphia, where her mother lives. Her mother can give her the help she needs with the kids while she works and then after school.” Her expression is as soft as her tone. “She needs a divorce and permission to take the kids out of state.”
I’m not generally an overly emotional guy. Many years of training myself to bury those reactions in court have served me well. But every now and then, my chest tightens, like it is now. She’s so damn kindhearted. “You’ve never come to me before—”
“Misty Connor, that’s her name. She’s gotten terrible advice. One attorney told her to stay in the marriage and work it out for the kids.” Leaning forward, she flattens her palms on the desk as if she has no other choice. “He’s . . . awful, Rad. I can’t go into the details, but she needs this divorce. She needs to be free from him. These kids need a stable home, and she and her mother can provide that for them.”
Tealey’s heart of gold shines through her plea. And I want to help her. I’d do anything to help Tealey, but it’s not as simple as she thinks. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s—”
“I need you, Rad. She needs you, and I need to do whatever I can to help her. I know this is a big ask. And . . .” Giving her time, she swallows, and then adds, “Her kids deserve a chance at a better life.”
Shifting in my chair, I study the frown shaping her lips in a way they should never be and the sadness darkening her irises. Blowing out a breath, I look away and run my hand through my hair when my chest tightens. I remind myself to maintain a neutral expression and remain professional. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s complicated to force a divorce on someone who doesn’t want it. It can be a lengthy and emotionally drawn-out process. I’m assuming he won’t sign anything if she gave it to him, correct?”
“She spent the night in the hospital when she once mentioned it.”
Rage strikes like lightning. “Fuck.”
“I know.” She sighs through the defeat coating her tone.
Stay professional. Shuffling papers around on my desk, I distract myself from looking at her. I won’t be able to handle the tears wavering on the edge of her lids if they fall. Seeing a woman cry is my weakness. My mom . . . I remember her tears too well. Tealey crying? No. I can’t have that either. “Is there a restraining order in place?”
“She filed, but it was denied.”
I should really have Ashley in here taking notes, but this is personal, so I pull a legal pad from my drawer and jot a few things down. “It shouldn’t have been denied if there’s a paper trail documenting the abuse.” I look back up. “He’s—”
“He’s awful, Rad.”
With our eyes locked on each other, I sense the words—fear, danger, and concern—she harbors inside but won’t say. “I’ll help her.” I nod before setting the pen down before me and twisting it between my fingertips. “I take a handful of pro bono cases a year when I can. It’s all I have time for lately. I’ll take this one but on one condition.”
“Anything.”
“Get rid of her current legal aid. Whoever was assigned to her case is doing a shit job. I’m not interested in schooling someone on how to win a case. I’m interested in helping your client.”
Tealey’s shoulders ease as a small smile appears. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’ve done more than you realize. You’ve given me hope.” She moves to her bag, pulls out a file, and sets it on the desk. “I brought this with me. I can get an e-copy for you if you prefer.”
“I hate sounding like, well, an attorney since we’re friends, but I have to keep things legal. I’ll send over a contract. She’ll need to sign it to retain me.”