by J. K. Coi
He put his arm around Julie’s shoulders and hugged her to him. “How is Dez doing?” he asked.
She sighed and shook her head at him but didn’t point out that he was still bottling up his feelings by changing the subject.
“The doctors don’t have a lot of optimism for his recovery,” she said. “Actually, they’re talking about pulling the plug. They say that even if he wakes up now, there might be nothing left of him. His parents are considering it.” She said it clinically, reciting straight facts as if she’d given the same speech a dozen times already—which was probably true since everyone had probably been asking. The pain in her voice was there, but contained, as if she didn’t dare let herself give in to it.
Leo’s guilt only intensified. His wife wasn’t lying in a hospital bed near death anymore. She was healthy and alive, and he needed to be grateful for that at the very least, and stay strong to get them through the rest.
“What do you think he would want?”
She scowled. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m just the fiancée, and apparently only Dez’s family can decide whether he lives or dies now.”
He squeezed her arm. “He may yet come out of it. There’s always hope.”
She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I’ll believe that if you keep believing in Brianna.”
He swallowed past the thickness in his throat. “You got a deal.”
Chapter Nine
Bria came back to the office from her third lunch meeting in as many days. She’d been tapping every contact she had for new clients to replace André Cordeiro—even though he hadn’t officially terminated her retainer…yet.
She should be disappointed that she hadn’t heard from him since that morning in her office. Brandon still hadn’t finalized the guy’s account. He remained optimistic that Bria would get another chance to take it to court. But despite the hit her career would take when Cordeiro didn’t oblige, she was actually hoping she didn’t hear from him at all. If he and his wife could get over their misunderstandings, she would be happy for them.
What did that say for her cutthroat business savvy?
Bria grimaced. It didn’t help that every time she thought about André she found herself thinking about Leo.
She hadn’t seen him for three days, either. The morning after he’d shown up at her office was Saturday, and she’d awakened feeling betrayed by her own eagerness to spend the day with him…but he hadn’t been home. And he hadn’t texted her that day or the next to demand their agreed-upon date. She’d lain in bed and stared up at the ceiling listening for his footsteps every night, but heard nothing until the early hours of morning. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d found someone else.
That hurt more than she wanted it to, and she couldn’t even be angry with him. She’d been the one insisting at every opportunity that they were done.
But he’d been right when he said she was afraid of spending time with him. Because the exact thing she’d worried about had come true. The more time they spent together, the more she’d been reminded just how much she loved him, just how good they were together, and her resolve to do the right thing weakened.
There was a sharp rap on her office door. Then three more sharp knocks conveyed both impatience and entitlement. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
Bria looked through the glass wall first and noticed that Brandon wasn’t at his desk, which explained how Nadia had gotten to her door without being buzzed. She came right on in, and Bria forced a smile. “What can I do for you, Nadia?”
“Richard had some ridiculous personal matter and can’t be my second in court this afternoon,” she said, tight-lipped. It was firm policy for all associates to attend court in pairs. Only partners could go it alone, but even they usually chose to have support.
Bria frowned. “Didn’t his wife go into labor this morning?” she asked.
Nadia only shrugged. “I need a second,” she said. “Are you coming?”
She nodded. “All right. What time?”
“Now.”
Bria sighed. Of course. “Then you had better drive, so I can look over the file on the way to the courthouse.”
“You don’t need to know what the file’s about,” she said. “You just need to sit there in the chair. I’ll handle the rest.”
She started to ask if that’s what Richard had agreed to but didn’t. This wasn’t her file, so if Nadia wanted to act like a dictator, that was her choice. “I won’t get in your way,” she promised. “But I’d still like to know what case I’m sitting in on.”
“Fine. You can review my notes.”
“Thank you.” She grabbed her briefcase and jacket and followed her out, giving Brandon the side-eye on the way as he was coming down the hall with a mug of coffee in his hand. “I’ll be back later, and I’ll need those Deveraux financial statements ready to go.”
He grinned and gave her a dutiful salute, which she figured was more about Nadia’s military-like posture than anything Bria had said.
By the time they’d entered the courtroom twenty-five minutes later, Bria had a good idea what Nadia’s file was all about. This was an access case. The father was bringing a motion to be able to see his kids more often, but since he’d been forced out of the matrimonial home—courtesy of Nadia Foster’s hard-ass tactics—he hadn’t been able to afford suitable lodgings appropriate for the children to visit. Nadia had even gotten Children and Family Services involved, to make sure he wouldn’t get any access to those kids until they came in and approved the guy’s apartment.
Bria groaned. There were better ways to handle a situation like that. From the material in the file, Bria couldn’t quite tell how much of this was Nadia playing hardball just because Nadia liked to play hardball, or if the wife had serious concerns about her husband’s capacity to care for the children.
What was in the file, though, were change-of-representation documents from the husband, appointing Ashton Granger Markham as his new attorney of record, and a notice of motion from Leo Markham himself.
Nadia hadn’t said a word about Leo being the attorney on the other side of her case when she’d asked Bria to come to court. Of course not. Leo’s being there was no doubt the exact reason why she’d asked Bria, and also probably why she’d tried to suggest that Bria shouldn’t need to review the file. She didn’t doubt that Nadia had wanted to watch her squirm, but she was going to be disappointed.
They met Nadia’s client, Sylvia Jones, inside the courthouse and retreated to a relatively quiet corner of the hallway to confer for a few minutes before it was time to go into the courtroom. Nadia made no move to introduce Bria, so she stepped forward and shook the woman’s hand, which was cold and clammy, revealing her nervousness. “I’m Brianna Martin. I’ll be assisting Ms. Foster in court on your behalf this afternoon.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Martin,” she said in a high voice that shook with emotion.
“You can just call me Bria.” The woman was wringing her hands and glancing back and forth as if she were watching for someone. “Are you all right?” Bria asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous about seeing David, and this is the first time I’ve ever been in a courthouse. I always thought if I had to come it would be for something ordinary like jury duty, not because my marriage had imploded and strangers were stepping in to decide my future for me.”
She looked so devastated, on the verge of tears, and Nadia paid no attention, had started scrolling through emails on her phone. Bria patted Sylvia’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you aren’t going to have to say anything. That’s what Nadia’s here for. It’s going to be fine. You and your husband have a valid separation agreement that spells out everything. If your husband hasn’t secured satisfactory accommodations for himself, then he won’t be granted overnight access to the children.”
Sylvia was still wringing her hands together. “Is something else worrying you?” Bria asked, concerned.
Nadia looked up then a
nd stepped between them. “We talked about this, Sylvia,” she said sharply. “We have to stick to the plan even when it feels harsh. Your children will thank you for securing their education when they get into Harvard or Yale.”
The poor woman nodded quickly, eyes wide. She had no idea that Nadia’s motivation for crushing the competition had nothing to do with any child’s future—only her own. “I know,” she said, “but I just—”
“No buts,” Nadia replied, but suddenly her whole demeanor changed as her attention shifted—from dispassionate and a little bored to sly and calculating.
Bria followed the direction of her gaze and realized why. Leo was coming toward them.
He looked mind-numbingly amazing in his navy suit with a bright green and yellow tie that she didn’t recognize. He’d shaved, but she hadn’t seen him again this morning, so did that mean he’d gone to the house after she’d left…or had he started moving his things out of it into some new place without her knowing?
His eyes found her and a smile of welcome teased his lips before he shifted to greet Nadia. She didn’t see another one of Ashton Granger Markham’s associates with him, but she wasn’t really surprised that he’d rather attend court alone. He’d always said she was the only person who would be able to work with him.
Nadia glanced at Bria with a self-satisfied smirk. “I need to have a few words with counsel. If you’ll excuse me for a minute,” she said before sauntering to his side like the cat after the cream, stepping in closer than was strictly professional and reaching for his hand.
Oh God, was it just her, or did they linger in the touch? When the woman slipped her fingers over his tie, Bria’s heart almost stopped, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that’s where Leo had spent the last three nights, and if Nadia had given him the tie.
Her stomach turned, and she tried to quash that train of thought. Even if her husband had found someone else, it would never be Nadia. He wasn’t that angry with her, was he?
Bria forced herself to look away and noticed the man standing just behind Leo. “Is that your husband?” she asked Sylvia.
“Yes, and his parents.” David Jones was a tall, rail-thin man with a couple days’ scruff covering his worn and tired-looking face. He was flanked by an older couple who looked like they were on their way to battle at their son’s side. The file had mentioned that the grandparents had also been involved in several requests for access to the children.
Bria turned to Sylvia—but not before catching the focused look Leo sent her way, making her skin tingle. “Forgive me for asking, but I only had a brief opportunity to review your file this morning,” she began. “If your husband is insistent on having his time with the children, is there some reason why he hasn’t gotten a suitable apartment, so the kids could come over?”
Sylvia’s hands started wringing again. “He’s broke,” she admitted. “He can’t afford anything decent in the city because he’s paying me so much money in spousal and child support.”
Bria recalled that the husband’s former law firm had finalized the separation agreement, not Leo or anyone else at Ashton Granger Markham. Nadia must have taken advantage of the previous lawyer’s obvious inexperience to get her client the most money she could, not caring that eventually such an imbalance would backfire on everybody. If the husband had come to Leo’s firm sooner, she might have still been there, and she would never have allowed Nadia to get away with such a one-sided deal.
“He agreed to pay me so much money because it was for the children, you know? But now he lives in a dump in a really bad neighborhood, and as much as I feel guilty about that, I don’t want my kids to go anywhere near it.” Her voice hitched.
“Is there any other reason why your husband should not be allowed to take the kids for overnight or extended visits?” she asked. The file had hadn’t gone into much detail about the reasons for the breakdown of the marriage, since there would be no petition for divorce until the parties had been separated for a year. Nadia’s notes had indicated that the couple started fighting about money, and time, and the kids, until the husband had said he wanted out, but as far as she’d been able to tell, there’d been no domestic abuse of any kind. She still wanted to be certain before the idea that had started to form in her mind gained any more traction.
“I was really angry with him for a long time for leaving me, and I wanted to see him hurt as much as he hurt me,” Sylvia admitted, with a hitch in her voice. Her features crumpled with guilt.
“That’s absolutely natural,” Bria reassured her softly. “But in time you’ll feel less pain and anger, and then you’re going to be able to deal with each other so much better if the financial scales are balanced between you.”
This isn’t your file, she reminded herself. She was only here today to fill a chair.
“He ran out on me when things got hard, but if nothing else, he’s always been a good father,” she whispered.
Bria nodded, relieved that Sylvia could admit that much. There were couples who refused to see any good in the person they’d once professed to love “for better or for worse” because their pain eclipsed it all. Bria spared a glance for Leo. He looked up at the same moment and their gazes locked. His expression softened. Her insides started to melt, and her heart beat fast.
“If there were a safe place for your husband to exercise his access to the kids, would you be agreeable to a compromise?”
Before Sylvia could answer Nadia returned, giving Bria the evil eye. And she was probably right to warn her to step back. Despite Nadia’s asking her to sit in on this motion, it was not Bria’s case, so it didn’t matter if this was not the way Bria would have handled it.
Leo held the door to the courtroom for his client and the older couple. She glanced up as she passed him. He didn’t look like his usual energetic self. In fact, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. She tried not to think about why he wouldn’t have been getting enough sleep, but her brain had already gone to that dark place, and now all she could see in her head were images of him and another woman naked together in a massive bed.
David Jones looked at his wife with a desperation and resentment that Bria had seen many times before. So many times, in fact, that she knew exactly how quickly that look could turn to bitterness and hate. One day, Mr. Jones might not want to pay his wife so much money in child support. He might decide he’d paid enough and had a better chance of making a life for himself on the opposite side of the country under another name. Then those children he never got to see anyway would grow up believing their father was a greedy monster who didn’t care about them.
By then, none of the lawyers would care. None of them thought about any of the families whose lives they played with, once the courtroom drama was over, the judges’ orders had been made, and their inflated accounts had been paid.
As everyone took their places, she refused to look at Leo again. Her issues with him were distracting her from the separate and important issues of her client. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t touch her, but she felt him. His direct gaze was a warm hand on the back of her neck, a gentle touch to the small of her back, a promise…and a question. One she didn’t know the answer to anymore. Still, she couldn’t help it; she let those feelings wash over her for just a minute before squaring her shoulders.
Mr. Jones’s parents sat behind Leo and their son. With Sylvia between Bria and Nadia, they remained standing as the judge came in and called the room to order. Leo stepped forward and explained that his client was looking to vary the separation agreement to allow Mr. Jones to have long-overdue access to his children.
Nadia objected. “Your Honor, the separation agreement was entered into in good faith by both parties who each had independent legal advice. The access clause clearly stipulates that such will only be considered once Mr. Markham’s client has obtained suitable residence, and unfortunately, his circumstances in that regard haven’t improved.”
“My firm did not represent Mr. Jones in the negotiation o
f the separation agreement,” Leo said, “and I’m advising him to challenge the terms. But in the meantime, we would like to argue that the circumstances have indeed changed. Mr. Jones’s inflated support payments have made it impossible for him to afford a place to live that would meet the unrealistic standards of Mrs. Jones and her counsel.”
At that point, Sylvia stood up and opened her mouth to object, but Bria put a hand on her arm to urge her to remain quiet.
She understood, she did. But as much as Sylvia wanted to assert that it wasn’t unreasonable to insist that her children be safe when they were with their father, the judge wouldn’t appreciate her interruption.
“Have the parties attended mediation on this issue?” the judge interjected.
“No, sir,” Leo answered. “However, Mr. Jones is amenable.”
Nadia raised her hand. “Forgive me, Your Honor, but it’s our position that mediation is not necessary in this case. This is a simple matter of upholding the contract that is already in place.”
The judge suddenly pointed at Bria. “Ms. Markham, you’re sitting at the wrong table today, aren’t you?”
Justice Horner was a relatively young judge at fiftysomething, who’d taken the bench only a few years ago. He was such a staunch supporter of alternative forms of dispute resolution, especially in matrimonial cases. She’d been before him enough times that he obviously remembered her, although apparently she hadn’t been in his court since leaving Ashton Granger Markham.
She stood with a polite smile and a nod. “Actually, no, Your Honor. I recently changed firms.” Correcting his use of her married name would have been a little cheeky for the venue, so she refrained.