Hopelessly Perfect

by S. E. Rose

  Hopelessly Perfect

  Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book 2

  S.E. Rose

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by S.E. Rose

  To those of us who overcame the obstacles life threw at us as children and are stronger because of it.

  Chapter One

  Lanie

  I stare at my watch for the millionth time. The judge is late, which means that I am late.

  Fucking great. I text my sister, Kylie, letting her know that dinner might be off tonight.

  My leg bounces as I sit in the waiting room of the judge’s chambers. Judge Maloney is my favorite judge. He’s always fair and has never once been condescending to me because I’m young or a woman.

  When he told me that he had a favor to ask of me, I jumped at the chance to repay him for his kindness and mentoring over the years. Years. I grin to myself. At thirty-two, I’m hardly a seasoned attorney yet, but I’m getting there.

  My phone buzzes with a text. I look down and groan.

  Di: Kyles – call me! URGENT! CRISIS!

  Kylie: Seriously? Just wear the pink dress.

  C-Dog: Dudes! This is the fucking family chat.

  Mothership: Clark! Language!

  Dad: Working . . . seriously, do any of my kids work?

  C-Dog: Dad – still in school here

  Dad: (eye rolling emoji)

  Me: Busy. Just call Kylie, for the love of God.

  Di: Oops . . . wrong chat . . . sorry peeps

  KJ: (laughing emojis)

  Me: (eye rolling emoji)

  C-Dog: Backless, wear the backless dress

  Di: Clark, it’s for a school dance that I’m chaperoning

  C-Dog: As I said, backless

  Mothership: Black, wear a black dress.

  Kylie: Mom – it’s not a funeral.

  Mothership: Little black dress

  Kylie: Touché, but no

  Me: Pink

  KJ: No photos? How are we supposed to vote?

  Di: This isn’t a democracy

  Kylie: Yeah! It’s a cheer-ocracy! LOL!

  KJ: Shoot me now!

  Di: (two dress photos)

  Me: Pink

  KJ: Blue

  C-Dog: Does the pink have a back?

  Mothership: Pink

  Dad: Pink

  Kylie: Like I said . . . pink. KJ’s vote doesn’t count.

  KJ: Excuse me?

  Kylie: You told Tabby to wear a bridesmaid dress to a gala. You never wear those dresses again. Everyone knows that! You suck at this game. Give it up, big bro! You are fashionably challenged!

  KJ: (middle finger emoji)

  “Ms. Moore? He’ll see you now,” the judge’s secretary, Lisa, says. Lisa is one of the great classics of this chamber. She was a secretary when that’s what the position was called. She’s worked for three judges now. She’s almost eighty years old. And she says they’ll have to carry her body out of here. She’s the most organized person that I’ve ever met. She also knows everything about everyone who works at the court. So naturally, I always try to keep on her good side.

  Yeah, I might want to be her when I grow up.

  I nod to her and walk to the judge’s chambers, opening the heavy wooden door. Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares me for what I find on the other side.

  As the door opens, I see Judge Maloney sitting at his desk. He looks like Benjamin Franklin with shorter hair. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, and he motions me into the office with a wave of his hand.

  I start to step into his office when a movement to my right catches my attention. I’m not easily surprised. I mean, hell, as the survivor of childhood cancer, nothing shakes me up. That’s probably because, in a hopeless attempt for control, I have worked hard to control every aspect of my life that I can. And I have to say that I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it.

  Until my eyes lock with Dr. Brix Crane’s eyes. I freeze like a deer in the headlights. My brain might have shut down. I imagine that right now there are little people inside my head running around, throwing papers in the air, and screaming to abandon ship.

  I take a deep breath as Brix stands and walks over to me. Brix looks as good, strike that, better than when we first met.

  “Lanie, it’s so good to see you again.”

  I slowly, and probably only by the good manners beaten into me all my life, raise my hand to his. His hand is warm and strong as he shakes mine. OK, they weren’t beaten, but my mom would have given me her ‘look of death’ had I not immediately greeted him.

  “Hello,” I murmur, looking back to Judge Maloney.

  “You know each other?” he asks as he looks between us.

  Brix turns to him with a warm smile. “Yes, we do, Judge. Lanie’s brother is my sister’s boyfriend.”

  “Oh? Is that so? Kent or Clark?”

  “Kent,” Brix answers, even though I’m pretty sure the question was directed at me.

  “Have a seat, Lanie. I asked Dr. Crane to join us to discuss a most unusual case that I have before me.”

  I sit down next to Brix and stare at the Judge. He unfolds his hands and pushes a photo forward on his desk. I lean in to get a better look. It’s a photo of a small boy.

  “This is Ashton Nicks. He’s seven years old. He’s a ward of the state. His junkie dad left when he was a baby, and his mother died in a car accident two years ago. There are no surviving relatives who are able to care for him. He had been living in a foster home elsewhere in the county until about two weeks ago, when he was diagnosed with stage two acute lymphoblastic leukemia.”

  I suck in a breath because that’s what I had when I was seven years old. I know what he’s going to ask before the words leave his mouth. He looks up at both of us. He’s going to ask for our help.

  “This kid—he’s special. I had him moved into Mrs. Collier’s house.” He looks over at Brix. “Mrs. Collier is, in my opinion, one of the best foster parents we have here in the county.”

  Brix nods his understanding.

  “But I want to make sure we set Ashton up for success. I want to put together a team of specialists that will work together to make sure he gets everything he needs. I don’t want this kid slipping through the cracks of the system. Thus, if you are both amicable to the idea. I’d like to appoint you as his attorney and doctor. I know this case is not either of your specialties, but I also know he needs a team that has compassion and can work together to make sure he’s getting the best care possible.” He gives me a look; I know he wants to divulge my past illness. I nod subtly. My curiosity is piqued when he gives a similar look to Brix, who similarly nods.

  Clearing his throat, he speaks. “Ms. Moore had this same type of cancer at the same age. Her pro bono work with some childhood cancer charities makes her, in my opinion, a wonderful advocate for Ashton. She’s also represented sev
eral young people in my court. She has what it takes to make sure Ashton doesn’t face any legal issues in getting the best care possible, regardless of his foster care status. And Dr. Crane and I go way back.” My eyes widen. What the hell is he talking about? “Dr. Crane sought emancipation when he was seventeen to qualify for a highly competitive scholarship, which he received. He has a background in pediatric oncology, now that he is back here working at the children’s hospital on a liaison committee of physicians looking at infectious diseases in cancer patients. I know having you both working together to make sure Ashton gets all the treatments he needs will give him the best chance to beat this.”

  I’m stunned. I got nothing. I just nod and feel my fingers intertwine on my lap.

  The judge pulls a sheet of paper out of a folder and places it in front of me. It’s an agreement to represent Ashton. He then slides a file folder toward me. I know inside I will find all of Ashton’s legal documents neatly labeled, likely by Lisa.

  “If you agree, you can sign this order, Lanie. I won’t be offended if you want to take some time to think this over.” He gives us each a fatherly look that says he does care but wants to give us an out because, clearly, this kid has somehow weaseled his way into the judge’s heart.

  I don’t read it; I know—very un-lawyer-like of me. I sign it and drop the pen back on the desk. Brix watches me in silence.

  The judge smiles at us. “Very good. Would you like to meet Ashton?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “He’s here?”

  Judge Maloney nods and smiles. “I had a sneaking suspicion you two would agree to this,” he says with a wink as he stands and walks over to his formal waiting room. He opens the door. I look beyond him to the burgundy leather sofa. A small boy sits next to an elderly woman, Mrs. Collier. I’ve met her once or twice before. She lives in Banneker, not far from me. The boy is pale. I know he hasn’t started treatment yet, otherwise he’d be in the hospital. He seems impossibly small for his age, not unusual for a child with his background.

  For a moment, I feel on the verge of tears as all my memories of having this disease come rushing back to me. I take a deep breath and stand.

  “Ashton? I want to introduce you to some good friends of mine,” Judge Maloney says. The boy cautiously rises and walks over to the judge, who hugs him. He turns and places his hands on Ashton’s shoulders.

  “This is Miss Lane and Mr. Brix. They are going to be helping you to get the best care ever, so you won’t be sick anymore,” the judge says in a soft, gentle, grandfatherly voice that makes my heart melt.

  “Hi,” Ashton whispers to us, his eyes glancing quickly up toward us and back down to the ground.

  I crouch down so that I’m at eye level with Ashton. His big eyes look at me. They are sad and hurt and scared. I just want to hug this boy and tell him it’ll be alright, but I also know that I’m going to have to gain his trust before I can do that.

  “Hey, there. It’s really nice to meet you, Ashton. I’m Miss Lane, and I’m very excited to be helping you. You know why?”

  Ashton shakes his head, his brown eyes studying me. Like so many other kids that I’ve come to know in the foster care system, there’s an air of maturity about him, a wisdom beyond his age.

  “Because when I was your age, I had the same thing wrong with me.”

  Ashton’s eyes widen slightly. “You had cancer?” he whispers loudly.

  I smile and nod. “Yep.”

  He’s quiet for a long moment as he takes in this information. He leans forward so only I can hear him. “Do you still have it?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. I had to get lots of treatments and special medicine for about a year and a half and then it was all gone. By the time I turned nine, I was cancer-free.”

  “Oh.” He goes from looking happy that I don’t have cancer, to looking sad that it takes so long to get better.

  “Don’t worry. Dr. Brix and I are going to help you beat cancer, too. We will do everything we can.”

  Ashton nods. I notice for the first time he has a small stuffed bear tucked under his arm.

  “Who’s this?” I ask, pointing to the bear.

  He pulls the bear out and holds him against his chest, resting his head on the bear’s head. “Kent,” he says.

  I pause and cock my head to one side. “Kent’s a good name. It’s my brother’s name.”

  “Kent Moore is my favorite baseball player. I want to be a baseball player when I grow up. Or a rock star, or a veterinarian.”

  “Those are some good choices. Can I tell you a secret?” I say, leaning in toward him.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Kent Moore is my little brother.”

  I smile when Ashton’s eyes double in size. “Kent Moore is your brother!” he nearly screams, and everyone laughs.

  “Yep.”

  “That’s so cool! You are so lucky! Do you get to go to games? Does he call you? What’s he like?” Ashton starts rattling off questions.

  “Whoa. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about all of that later. Don’t worry. I want you to meet Dr. Brix,” I say to him, motioning Brix over, who also crouches down.

  “Hey, Ashton,” he says.

  Ashton scoots closer to me. “Hi,” he mumbles, glancing down at his shoes.

  “How about we figure out some medicines to get you feeling all better?”

  “OK,” Ashton answers slowly, unsure if he likes the sound of that.

  I stand and hold out a hand to Mrs. Collier. “Hello, it’s nice to see you.”

  “You, too, young lady. I know your parents and grandparents. I’ve seen you in court a few times. You grew up into one beautiful young woman.”

  I blush. “Thank you. Yep. I think we’ve crossed paths before, just not on such official terms.”

  “If I can get you all to check your calendars for tomorrow, I’d like to set up a conference call and get things rolling,” the judge says.

  And so, we spend three minutes setting up a call time, exchanging contact information, and chatting with Ashton.

  Ashton and Mrs. Collier leave first, followed by Brix and me. I haven’t seen Brix in a while. I think the last time was when he came with his sister to my parent’s house for one of their Saturday meals. He’s tagged along a few times. I am always too much of a chicken shit to ask him out. I keep telling myself that I don’t have time for a relationship. Di bothers me about this all the time. She says I need a guy in my life. But a relationship would mean giving up control and I’m not sure I can do that.

  “So, how are you?” Brix asks as he pushes a door open for me. I get a whiff of his cologne as I walk past him. Jesus, why does he smell so good?

  “I’m good, thanks. And you?”

  He shrugs. “Adjusting to being stateside.”

  “I bet.” I knew Brix had just decided to stay here in the U.S. after spending several years abroad working in third world countries.

  Brix looks at me as we reach the parking lot. “Is this something that happens normally?”

  I freeze. Yeah, did I mention that I may have a little bit of a major crush on him? I mean, how can I not? He’s a good-looking doctor who travels the world saving children.

  “I’m sorry, what’s normal?” I ask, my face heating as the words leave my mouth.

  “This case with Ashton,” he replies, looking at me as though I’m a crazy person.

  “Oh, that. Uh, nope. This is a little unorthodox.”

  “I thought so.” He glances over toward Main Street. “You want to grab a coffee and discuss things for tomorrow’s call?”

  I look down at my watch. “OK. But I only have an hour.”

  Chapter Two

  Brixton

  I hope Lanie doesn’t see through my lame ‘let’s get coffee’ excuse. I can’t get this woman out of my head, not since I saw her in the airport not too long ago. She showed up alongside my sister when I arrived back home. And I’ve been secretly crushing on her ever since. She’s utter perfection. Her blonde ha
ir is perfectly styled. Her makeup is flawless, although she doesn’t need any because her natural beauty is already perfection. Even her suit looks expensive and straight from the dry cleaners. She smells fresh, citrus-like.

  I try to keep an appropriate distance as we walk across the street to the coffee shop.

  “So, how’s the family?” I ask casually as I open the door for her.

  She tucks her hair behind her ear as she walks past me. Her smell permeates my nose again, and I try to nonchalantly adjust myself. I need to get my dick under control. I haven’t even asked this woman out yet. I’ve been biding my time. Lanie doesn’t seem like the type of woman that just goes out with a guy. I need to take this slow—glacially slow.

  “Oh, they are good. Di’s just busy as usual, saving the next generation. The kids in her class are a real handful this year. Clark’s busy with a crazy schedule at college. Kylie just got back from some fashion show. And I haven’t talked to Kent or Tabby since last weekend.”

  I laugh. “Uh, I’m pretty sure they have been . . . uh, busy.”

  Lanie blushes at my implication about our siblings.

  “R-right,” she says as she composes herself and orders a black coffee.

  “Hey, Debbie, what’s the ground today?”

  “It’s a Kenyan bean, Dr. Crane.”

  I give her a look that says, ‘Come on, I come here daily. I’m just Brix.’

  She grins. Robin is about ten years older than us and is the manager at the coffee shop. She’s a sweet lady who has kids at the school where Lanie’s twin, Di, teaches.

  “The usual, then, Brix?” She emphasizes my name with a wink.