by Ali Parker
I was in problem solving mode now as Marie’s sobs slowly subsided. First things first, she’d need an attorney. Although money was tight for me these days, I was still going to offer to pay for the attorney. She couldn’t afford it and I’d be damned if she was walking into this fight by herself.
Once she stopped crying, I sat back a bit so I could look into her eyes. Even red-rimmed and glassy from tears, they were still stunning. “How about dinner tonight at your place with Austin? My brothers and I are going to an attorney later to talk about some family stuff. I can ask about your case while I’m there and bring over dinner later?”
She frowned slightly, reluctance etched into her face when she finally agreed. “Fine, we can have dinner, but not tonight. How about Friday?”
It was only Tuesday. She was putting me off again, but I respected her decision. I was determined to get her to see that she didn’t have to do everything by herself. By Friday, I might have been able to get enough information from an attorney that I could get her to believe me when I told her she wasn’t alone in this.
“Friday it is,” I agreed, holding her close to me for just a few more minutes before I had to go.
* * *
Two hours later, I was sitting in a fancy office with all four of my brothers and an attorney around a large wooden conference table. A bank of windows to one side of the office showed off a great view of downtown Cypress and the river beyond, while the other three walls were covered in bookshelves with breaks only for two doors.
Marie’s situation was in the forefront of my mind, but I pushed it back for now. Soon enough I would get to ask Mr. Collins, our attorney, about it. He was seated at the head of the dark, polished table with a thick file that I assumed was our case file in front of him. Dressed in a basic black suit with a lanky build, salt and pepper hair, and a sharp, dark gaze, he gave off a calm, confident air.
Clearing his throat to get our attention, he met each of our eyes. “Gentlemen, thank you for meeting me today.”
“Thank you for seeing us, Henry,” Tyson said, ever the professional District Attorney while he wore his three-piece suit despite the scorching heat outside. He kept his brown hair short enough that it didn’t touch his collar and his deep blue eyes were alert as he scanned the room.
We were all muscular and built athletically, like our dad, but Tyson was most intent on hiding it. He wore his expensive suits like armor and didn’t shed his professionalism often or easily.
Sonny sat across from Tyson, still wearing his police uniform. I knew he’d had to come straight from work to make this meeting. He made a rolling motion with his finger, “Everyone’s happy to be here. Can we get this show on the road, please?”
A quick glance at me told me that at least one of the reasons he wanted out of here so quick was to talk to me, probably about Wesley. I also wasn’t in the mood to hang around this stuffy office for any longer than necessary either. Being here was depressing.
Henry Collins waited for Tyson to nod before he continued. “I’ve asked you all to be here in person because I’m afraid the news I have isn’t good.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Evan muttered, quietly enough that only I could hear him. Maybe Sonny, sitting on Evan’s other side, would’ve been able to hear him too had he been listening. Sonny was staring out the attorney’s window though, clearly zoned out of the conversation.
“Basically, your father has bled you dry. His legal bills combined with the money he lost or squandered has left the family estate with nothing. Not that we know of.”
“It’s gone?” Beau asked, speaking up for the first time. “All of it?”
“All of it,” the attorney informed us. I didn’t know why Beau was shocked. I wasn’t. I’d thought there would be something left, but I was prepared on it not being very much. Hearing that there was nothing at all wasn’t good news, but it wasn’t unexpected.
Our family was a wealthy one once, upstanding and a pillar of the community. That ceased to be true when our mother died and our father turned into a criminal. My brothers and I were close, but the events that led up to and followed our mother’s death had affected us all. It also affected our relationships with one another.
Sonny snapped out of whatever trance he’d slipped into when he heard Beau’s hushed words. “What if we talked to dad? He might’ve just invested it somewhere we don’t know about.”
Tyson snorted, his blue eyes flashing as he looked over at Sonny. Oldest versus youngest. A ten year age difference between the two with Sonny at twenty six and Tyson at thirty six, yet they were the most alike, apart from their ideological differences when it came to our father of course.
“Invested?” Ty scoffed. “It’s gone. Our father isn’t on some financial brokering conference Sonny, he’s a fucking criminal. This right here is just more evidence about how bad things got with him doing what he did.”
“Evidence?” Sonny threw back at him, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot you were on that team of douches who only looked at said evidence in one way when we both know there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
His voice dripped with sarcasm, the vein throbbing in his temple letting me know that he was just getting started. Sonny remained convinced that he could prove our father’s innocence, while Tyson had been on the prosecuting team that put him away.
It made for loads of fun at family get-togethers, or meetings at attorney’s offices, evidently. I wasn’t the only one who noticed that Sonny was about to explode, or that Tyson was glaring daggers at him from across the table.
“Guys,” Evan said quietly, intervening in the same way our mother always had. “It’s not worth it to let this tear us apart. Please continue, Mr. Collins.”
Evan caught my eye, and I nodded. He’d done the right thing, not that he was looking to me for validation. It was more like he was asking whether I thought they were done for now.
They were. I could tell by the way Tyson sat back in his chair and Sonny chewed on the inside of his cheek. Evan’s reminder was enough. Mama Lovett hadn’t raised her boys to fight with each other in front of company, and most certainly not in a professional meeting with an attorney.
We could tear each other apart at home, but we were a united front as soon as we stepped foot outside. Collins looked between my two brothers and must’ve come to the same conclusion that I had before paging through his file and squinting at something.
“I hired a private investigator, as you asked Mr. Lovett,” he explained.
I didn’t bother asking which one he was referring to. Tyson was the only one who spoke to our family attorney regularly. “We’ve got a few leads on where your father may have hidden some money, but nothing concrete yet.”
“Thank you, Henry,” Tyson and Beau said, almost in unison. Why they were thanking the man, I didn’t know. He’d basically told us what we already knew. My brothers pushed back their chairs, ready to say goodbye and leave, but I hung back for a minute.
“I’ll be out in a few, I just need to ask Mr. Collins about something else,” I explained when they hesitated by the door, waiting for me. Tyson’s eyes narrowed on mine while Beau and Evan shrugged, taking off after Sonny.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Lovett?” he asked once my brothers closed the door behind them. His elbows rested on the polished surface of the conference table in front of him, his fingers steepled as he waited for my reply.
“My girlfriend’s ex,” I started, jumping in immediately because I didn’t want to waste any time. “He’s suing her for custody of their five year old son. Can you help her?”
He looked taken aback at my request, then stood up and walked over to his massive desk in the corner of the room. He snagged a small square piece of white paper from a stack on his desk and slid his pen from his pocket.
“I’m afraid I can’t help her, no. Our firm doesn’t handle family law, but I’m writing down the number of a colleague I’ve referred several of my clients to. She’s an excellent attorney.�
�� He passed the paper to me, folding it in half.
“Great. Thank you, we’ll give her a call.” Placing the paper in my pocket, I had a recommendation for an ‘excellent’ attorney. One step down, god only knew how many to go.
Chapter Fourteen
Marie
“Bye baby, you have a good day okay?” Kneeling, I gave Austin a quick hug goodbye. He wiggled free from my grasp, giggling as he took off through the day care’s red gate.
“You too, mommy!” he called over his shoulder, stopping to wave when he reached the entrance. In a flash, he was gone, swallowed up by the children crowding around him.
It was still early, but there were parents and cars and kids everywhere. A brunette boy whizzed past me, his little backpack bouncing from his shoulders as he ran to the same room Austin disappeared into.
“Don’t forget about your fruit!” a familiar voice called after the boy, but he was already gone.
I glanced around, easily locating the owner of the voice. Belle was standing nearby, her blonde curls piled in a slapdash ponytail atop her head. I knew that style well—it was the go-to style for single mothers around the world. Either that, or they cut their hair short.
She was wearing yoga pants and an oversized t- shirt, holding up her hand to shield her eyes from the early morning sunshine that was already beating down on the pavement. She noticed me at the same time I noticed her, smiling as she shook her head after her son.
“He’s not going to eat his fruit,” she informed me with a wry grin. “He used to love the stuff, now he refuses to touch it. He’s even gone off any kind of juice.”
I cringed, very familiar with the finicky and fickle appetite of my own young boy. “I hope it passes soon. If it helps, Austin refused to eat anything green for two months and lived off chicken fingers for another.”
Belle’s lips pursed and her nose wrinkled. “I am not a fan of fried chicken fingers. Maybe this fruit aversion isn’t so bad after all.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, shuddering as I thought back to the time our house had a permanent fried chicken smell. It wasn’t a good month for me, to say the least.
“Please tell me you have time for a quick coffee,” Belle said, her eyes pleading. “I really need coffee.”
A quick glance at my watch confirmed that I still had time before the salon opened, so I nodded. “Sure, I have an hour before I have to get to work.”
“Thank the lord,” Belle cheered, looping her arm through mine as we set off down the sidewalk. We navigated more arriving children and other early morning commuters before we finally crossed the street. “There’s that great place right around the corner from here. Do you mind walking?”
“Not at all,” I answered truthfully. I used to go on daily jogs, but I just hadn’t been able to get around to it lately. I missed being out in the sunshine and fresh air, so even the short walk to the coffee shop was welcome and invigorating.
We chatted all the way there, and in no time at all, Belle was pushing through the wide glass paneled door of the Daisy’s Coffee & Go. The shop was an old favorite of mine from back in high school. The owners had renovated it to give it a more modern feel, and they sold fancy imported coffee brews now too, but it was essentially the same place.
Being back here with Belle, surrounded by the mouthwatering fragrance of what had to be my absolute favorite bean made me feel like I really was back home in Cypress. I breathed in deeply, following Belle as she led us to small table at the front of the shop.
“This okay with you?” she asked as we slid into our seats.
I smiled. “Perfect.”
The offerings at the cafe were written on blackboards above the counter, and Belle and I both twisted in our seats to get a good look at them. It didn’t take either of us more than a few seconds to decide.
“I want the biggest, strongest coffee they have on the menu,” Belle declared dramatically, turning to face back to me.
“That would be me.” A guy quipped, appearing next to our table wearing a navy apron with The Daisy’s Coffee & Go logo and a name tag that said ‘Waylon’. He looked vaguely familiar to me, with his too long brown hair and boyish features, but I couldn’t place him immediately.
Belle rolled her eyes and smiled. “Thanks Waylon, but unless you’re made of caffeine I’m not interested.”
He winked at her, taking down her order. “Gotta give me props for trying. I’ve been told that’s the secret to success, try and try again.”
“Maybe try with someone your own age next time,” Belle advised good-naturedly, a wide smile on her lips.
Waylon rolled his eyes skyward, shaking his head before flashing her what I assumed was his attempt at a smirk. “You’re what, like a year older than me?”
“And what a year it was,” Belle winked, eyes sparkling.
Waylon tapped his notebook and swept his gaze to me, eyes narrowing for an instant before he snapped his fingers. “Marie Nix, right? I heard you were back in town. Welcome home. Would you like an old friend and new potential love interest to show you the places all the cool people hang out nowadays?”
“You definitely get those props for trying,” I replied, finding his faux confidence and determination adorable. “But I’m going to have to pass. I’m afraid I’m not cool enough to hang out at those places anymore.”
Waylon scoffed, which was actually kind of sweet of him. “I think you’re wrong, so my offer stands. In the meantime, you want some coffee?”
“Please,” I said emphatically. “I’ll have the same as Belle, thanks.”
Tipping an imaginary hat to us, he hurried through the early morning crowd gathered in front of the counter and left us to talk.
“He’s so silly,” Belle said, smiling fondly as she watched him hurry away and chat to other customers. “He tries flirting with me every time I come in, just won’t take no for an answer.”
“It’s cute,” I agreed. I had to admire his tenacity. “I hope it pays off for him sometime.”
Belle sighed, the corners of her mouth turning down as her eyes turned contemplative. “Yeah, me too. He’s a good guy.”
“Not for you?” I asked, purely because she suddenly looked so sad.
Her blue eyes misted as she lifted them to mine. “Nah, I had my one great love. Besides, I’m already raising one boy. I’d hate to have to raise another by myself, and Waylon might only be a little younger than us, but he still strikes me as a kid, you know?”
I nodded. “That’s what I thought too.”
“So,” Belle said, blinking away the emotion in her eyes. “What’s going on with you?”
“Not much,” I lied. I was hesitant to mention anything about the custody situation and the whole Wesley nightmare to her, or to anyone else. It wasn’t a secret or anything, it just hurt to talk about it.
“You don’t have to tell me, but it seems like something’s got you stressed. No offense, but it doesn’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”
“It’s that bad?” I asked. I thought I’d done a good job hiding the bags under my eyes. Evidently, I hadn’t pulled it off.
Belle nodded sympathetically and jerked her head toward a mirror on one of the walls nearest to us. Sure enough, I looked gaunt and pale even to myself.
“It’s that bad,” I said with a sigh, answering my own question. “I don’t want to trouble you with my drama.”
“Trouble away sister,” Belle said with a roll of her hand and an encouraging smile. “Lord knows if you hang around me for long enough, I’m going to end up crying to you sooner or later. Tell me your sorrows now so I have one in the bank by then.”
I smiled sadly, wondering how the hell we’d gone from carefree girls who were worried only about silly things to women who were stocking up on times to cry on each other’s shoulders.
“Okay, but you asked for it,” I warned her, deciding to go ahead and tell her despite my hesitation. I ended up summarizing the whole mess to her, ending with tears in my eyes and the c
offee Waylon had delivered halfway through my story going cold. “Now I don’t know what to do. It feels like I’m drowning with no hope of a lifeguard.”
“Wow, that sucks,” she said. It was remarkable how those three words perfectly described the situation. People always tried to say clever words in situations like mine, or Belle’s, when the truth was that no words were adequate. “I’m going to offer you the same empathy people keep offering me. Stay strong, you’ll get through it. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but we will both survive, my friend. We just have to keep being strong.”
“That’s about all there is to do, isn’t it?” I asked, wishing there was some magic cure she could give me, or that life could magically wipe out the mess I was facing.
Whether by chance or fate, the universe was definitely giving me some kind of sign when the next person walked into the coffee shop. I felt his presence almost before I saw him, like he was a magnet for me. I couldn’t not notice him.
There was an almost imperceptible lull in conversation when Jeremy entered the coffee shop, striding right up to the counter where Waylon seemed to have his order waiting for him. Interesting. A quick look around confirmed I wasn’t the only one aware of him, though conversation was carrying on as usual now.
Several women seemed to be tracking his movements from the corners of their eyes, much like I was. The only difference was that when he turned around, his gaze locked to mine instantly. Sweet hell.
All he had to do was look at me and my belly spun, butterflies massing in my core. Jeremy was smoking hot under the best of circumstances, but with his hair still damp from a shower and wearing a turquoise button up shirt that brought out his eyes perfectly, he was devastating. After accepting his cup and paying, he walked to our table.
“Hey Marie,” he said lightly, his eyes heating as they burned into mine, lingering there for just a second longer than was casual before glancing to Belle. “You’re Belle Dupree, right?”