He screamed. She fought back the way she always did, trying so, so hard to stay calm and not show any of the emotion he'd mistake for weakness. Finally, she had enough. I heard the front door slam, her car turn on, the tires screeching as she rushed out of our godforsaken neighborhood.
It was foggy that morning. That night. Whatever it was. But it was always foggy. She should have been used to it. She would have been okay if she hadn't been crying. If she hadn't been upset.
The police were at the door a few hours later. The sun was just peeking through the horizon, illuminating the vibrant green lawns, the pure azure ocean. The whole damn sky was filled with color.
I knew what had happened from the look of pity on their faces. The words were murky. "I'm sorry, son, but your mother was in an accident. She didn't make it."
And all the color drained from my world. Everything was dull and dim. Their words were a jumbled mess in my ears. I couldn't stand there, but I couldn't leave with them on the porch. So I waited until they went inside to talk to my father, and then I ran.
I ran barefoot, in my fucking pajamas. I ran until the sun was high in the sky. And, even though I knew the sky was no doubt blue, again, everything was still gray.
I ran until my legs gave out, and I collapsed under some overgrown tree, and I curled into a ball and cried.
Manly, I know.
It's not like I spent the next ten years numb and empty. But, somehow, the colors were never as sharp. Food never tasted as good. There was always something missing, some awful gray dullness to the world. I was with other woman before, and I was happy, but there was still something so drab about my life.
And then I met Alyssa.
She stared at me, sizing me up, so bad at hiding how much she wanted me. And, I can admit it--I was there to mess with Ryan. I wanted to flirt with her, to rub it in his face. A nice revenge for existing as such an awful human being. A nice revenge for rubbing his relationship with Alyssa in my face every chance he got. It was always my gorgeous girlfriend. As if I cared that his girlfriend was gorgeous.
But the second she opened her admittedly gorgeous mouth, I was hooked. She was so smart and articulate and so humble about it. And even though she'd just met me, even though she clearly wanted to fuck me, she called me on my bullshit. She called out my obvious ploy to fuck with Ryan. She called me on assuming she was vacuous. She even corrected my grammar.
Then I touched her, and the most delightful red flush spread across her face. It was so bright and vibrant.
It was like the color was finally back in my life.
I always want more of her. Everything is better when she's around--the air, the music, the food. Even me. I'm so much smarter and kinder and more honest when I'm with her.
I know it's early, but I see a future with her and it's vibrant and bright.
I see her lying next to me at night, her soft body pressed against mine, her arms wrapped tightly around my chest. My T-shirt--the one she claimed as her own--drapes softly over her curves. In the morning, she stretches out on the couch with her Kindle and a cup of coffee. I can smell the coffee on her breath, taste the honey on her lips. I feel the nerves in my body turning on, everywhere all at once, just from her hands on my skin.
I know it won't be that perfect. I know we'll have fights, we'll have bad days, we'll have miserable shit in the rest of our lives. But it can be that good. We can be that good.
I really meant what I said. I'd marry her today if she'd have me.
***
Mrs. Pike is immaculately put together. She's the kind of woman who has spent her entire marriage immaculately put together. One of those wives who serves as a very special kind of trophy--beautiful, educated, conservative. Usually, by the time these women make it to my office, they've lost interest in being the symbol of their husbands' good taste and manners. Or their husbands have gained interested in a younger woman.
But Mrs. Pike is still immaculate in her freshly pressed suit and her small silver earrings.
"I should have known better," she says. "I did. I knew this would happen, even when we got married. I thought I could look the other way. I have a good life, Mr. Lawrence. I have a beautiful home. I have all the money I could spend."
"How old were you when you married him?"
"Twenty-two," she says.
"You had no idea what you were giving up. You can't blame yourself. No one has their life together at twenty-two. It's a terrible age."
Mrs. Pike smiles, but it's short lived. "I was in graduate school. And he asked about my thesis. He pretended like he wanted to hear about it."
She's miserable over this mistake. She's too miserable. If she believes it's her fault, she won't ask for the settlement she deserves. She'd be an easy client for any other lawyer--a few billable hours to agree to whatever her husband offers.
But I know what she deserves. She deserves half of everything they made together.
Right now she needs someone on her side. She needs someone who will listen to her.
"What did you study?" I ask.
"Literature."
This is exactly how Alyssa would have ended up if she'd stayed with Ryan. She'd have spent her life ignoring her wants and dreams, instead playing the role of the perfect trophy wife.
"Not enough people appreciate literature," I say. "Where did you go to school?"
"Columbia."
"What a show off."
She finally smiles. "Mr. Lawrence--"
"You can call me Luke."
"Okay, Luke. I want to take care of this quietly and quickly."
"California is a community property state. You're entitled to half of his assets."
"I don't care about the money."
"Mrs. Pike."
"You can call me Kate," she says.
She's hooked. She's going to sign a retainer at the end of this meeting. I almost hate how easy it is to charm these women. All I do is listen to them, remind them they're valuable human beings, and they're hooked. They'll sign anything I put in front of them. All it takes is fifteen minutes of care and attention and they trust me.
"Okay, Kate. I understand your position. Your husband provided for you. It was a sacrifice, but it's the smallest sacrifice he could offer. It's only money. You've given up years of your life. How long have you been married?"
"Twenty years."
I lean in towards her so she can feel the full weight of my words. "I'm sure men have been interested in you."
She nods.
"But you were faithful, because of your vows."
"Yes," she says.
"You could have lived somewhere less awful than Los Angeles."
She laughs. "I wanted to stay in New York."
"And you gave up your career to raise your daughter. Isn't that right?"
Finally, Kate gives me a real smile. "She's fifteen. She's such a sweet girl. I know she's old enough to decide if she'd rather live with me or her father, but I want full custody."
"We'll get it."
Her face brightens. I see this a lot--she's mostly concerned with her daughter. It's sweet, yes, but she's leaving too much on the table. We can get custody and get half his assets.
"I don't want to push him, Mr. Lawrence... Luke. I just want to be done with it."
"Then let me take it from here. I'll make sure you and your daughter never have to worry about money again."
"But he won't... he has so many lawyers."
I offer Kate my hand. "Yes, but your lawyer is better."
She smiles. "Okay."
"Trust me. Your daughter is going to be so proud of you for standing up for yourself."
I show her our standard retainer, and she signs without hesitation.
***
Ryan calls me into his office as soon as I arrive at work. Unfortunately I still work with him. I tried to leave. The Monday after Alyssa left Ryan for me, I asked him to dissolve the partnership.
But he refused. The way he saw it, there were two options--we con
tinue working together with no mention of our personal lives, or I sell him my half of the firm and resign immediately. I hand over all of my clients, even those in the middle of difficult cases.
I want him out of my life, but I can't abandon the clients who need me.
I clench and unclench my fists. Ryan is always an irritation, but I'm not going to let him get to me.
I knock on the door and step into his office.
Ryan doesn't look up from his computer. "Several new clients requested you. I put the consults on your calendar."
"I have a full calendar." And taking on new clients will make it harder to get out of this firm.
Ryan moves his gaze from his laptop to me. "They specifically requested you. You do have a certain reputation."
I offer him my best I don't a damn what you think smile. "I'd rather focus on making the clients I have happy."
"It's perfectly good business. You need a better reason than that to turn it away." He holds a stare. It's a business stare, cold and emotionless, and so very Ryan. He never gives anything away. He never even raises his voice.
"If we dissolve the firm, you can take on all the clients you want," I say.
"Out of the question," he says. "We have a reputation, and I do all the work to maintain it. I do seventy percent of our billable hours."
Asshole.
But I swear, if I look closely, I can almost see a sign of weakness. I can almost see some little hint of how much it hurt him to lose Alyssa.
So I offer him a smile, a real smile this time. "When we decided to start this business, we agreed we'd work reasonable hours."
He narrows his eyes, his brow furrowing. I'm sure Ryan regrets asking me to start Lawrence and Knight. I know I regret getting into business with him. But it made sense at the time. He was the only competent person I knew who wanted to specialize in divorces and he was willing to actually run the firm so I could devote my attention to actually practicing law.
"You need to start pulling your own weight." It's as calm as it could possibly be. He flips through a file on his desk. "Starting with your latest client, Mrs. Pike. She can't afford the kind of aggressive negotiation you outlined, and there's no way she's going to get full custody. Convince her to take a more reasonable offer."
I fold my arms. "No."
Ryan looks at me with pity, like I'm an idiot for being so idealistic. "I appreciate that you can sell the hot, hopeless-romantic divorce lawyer. It attracts clients. Hell, it's your best asset. But you need to be reasonable. She'll never get full custody. And her daughter is a teenager. Any sane judge will let the daughter decide. You're only wasting her money and getting her hopes up for nothing."
I grit my teeth. "I will continue to run my cases my way. If you'd like to run things a different way, we can dissolve the firm."
He raises his voice. "That's out of the question."
"Then so is me taking on these new clients."
I turn to leave but Ryan clears his throat. When I bring my gaze back to him, he's wearing a shit-eating grin.
"How is Alyssa?" he asks.
"She's great."
"I've been meaning to ask her to dinner." He smiles and folds his hands in his lap. "We were best friends for years. I'm sure she'd like to get back in touch."
My stomach drops and my head flashes with all sorts of sick images of Ryan on top of Alyssa, thrusting away in missionary while she tears her hair out in boredom.
"I need to get back to work," I say.
"Yes, you have two briefs to finish. You don't want to work too late. She gets lonely."
I clench my fists. He's trying to get a rise out of me. It's not going to work.
CHAPTER THREE
It's almost nine when I arrive at Alyssa's place.
She puts her finger to her mouth in a shh gesture. "Laurie is sleeping one off, so..." She creeps to her bedroom, opening the door slowly.
There's a sound from Laurie's room. She's up.
Alyssa bites her lip, shaking her head. She motions for me to follow her into the bedroom. Mouths now.
This has got to be good.
Laurie pulls her door open and bounces out of her bedroom. She looks at Alyssa, then at me. "Damn. I didn't hear the mating call." She laughs at her joke, then brings her attention back to me. "Are you coming to the premiere party?"
A guilty look creeps onto Alyssa's face. She knows she's been caught. I try to hold her gaze but she stares at the ground.
"What party?" I ask.
Laurie puts her hands on her hips and raises her voice. "Alyssa Summers! You promised me you informed Luke about this party. You promised he was coming."
Alyssa groans.
"You're not getting out of this," Laurie says.
Alyssa looks at me like she's begging for a lifeline. Her voice is low and soft. "I'm sure Luke has other things to do."
"Like hell I do." There's no way I'm missing a party celebrating the premiere of Alyssa's show. I'd celebrate it every minute if I could.
Alyssa glares at me, but it's a mock glare, an I hate but I really love you glare. "I have other things to do."
Laurie shakes her head. It's Laurie's show too--she's the head writer. It's how she and Alyssa became friends. "What other things?"
"Anything except for watching the premiere." Alyssa looks at the ground.
This is really bothering her.
I offer Laurie a smile. "We'll be there."
"You better, or I'll throw your Kindle in the ocean."
I laugh. "That's not going to convince her." I squeeze Alyssa's hand. "But we will be there."
Laurie nods, satisfied, and she goes back to her room.
I follow Alyssa into Laurie's spare room. I suppose, by now, it really is Alyssa's room. It's been hers for a few months even if it lacks any of Alyssa's touch.
She sits on the bed, pulling her feet towards her crotch. Her eyes are turned down, her lips pressed together. "Are you mad?"
My heart sinks. She's always terrified of disappointing me.
I shake my head. "Of course not. But I wish you'd told me."
She sighs and bites the skin on her thumb. "I was going to ditch it at the last minute. When Laurie was too drunk to notice."
"And where was I in all this?"
"You were going to pick me up and take me far, far away. To somewhere with no TV."
I kneel next to the bed and take her hands. "You worked so hard on that show. Aren't you proud of your accomplishment?"
Her eyes are on the bare white wall. "It's too nerve-wracking. People are going to have opinions. I know it's cable, but I'm going to be recognizable soon." She shakes her head. "Let's talk about something else."
"Are you sure?"
Her brow furrows, her forehead scrunching. She even makes stress look adorable.
"Positive." She squeezes my hand. "How was work?"
"You're telling me you want to talk about Ryan?"
She shrugs as if it's no big deal. As if she could not care less that I still work with her ex-fiancé. As if she loves nothing better than talking about Ryan. "Sure."
I move closer, until her legs are at my hips and my head is at her chest. "Fine except for part about Ryan being there."
She runs her hands through my hair. It's sweet and affectionate, like she's already released a lot of her stress. "Why don't you sell?"
Tension knots in my shoulders. "I have a dozen clients in some stage of a divorce. If I leave them, Ryan will botch their settlements."
She brings her hands to my shoulders. "Can't you sell then finish up with your clients?"
My throat constricts. "He won't accept anything other than my immediate resignation." I look at Alyssa, into her clear, blue eyes, and some of my tension eases. "This is how he gets his revenge."
"You did steal his girl."
"You wanted to be stolen."
"I wanted to be with you." She runs her hands over my suit jacket. "You were working late."
It's sincere, like she's conce
rned. But Alyssa doesn't need to worry about me. I can handle it.
"How about we don't talk about work at all?" I offer.
She nods and drags her fingertips across my cheek, stopping at my lips. "I have to ask you something."
"Anything."
She bites her lip. She's even more nervous about this than she was about the party. "It's not a big deal."
"Nothing is a big deal to you. You have no awareness of what is or isn't a big deal."
"This isn't a big deal."
"What is it?" I ask.
She sighs, squeezing my hands tighter. "I have this assignment from my therapist. To do a food challenge."
"Oh yeah?" I try to underplay my enthusiasm. This sounds like a big deal. Like a huge deal.
"Have you heard of it?" Her voice is soft, needy.
"No." I say it as softly and sweetly as I can.
"It's not a big deal." She shakes her head like even she doesn't believe that. "I eat a small portion of something that would normally be off limits. One cookie or one scoop of ice cream or something like that."
I rub my thumb against her fingers. "That sounds like a big step."
"It's easy in theory." She bites the skin of her thumb. "Well, not easy, but simple. I eat the food and I sit there and I don't binge or purge."
There is so much need in her eyes. I can help her. I have to help her.
"All you have to do is babysit." She pulls her hands to her lap, shifting like she's uncomfortable. "Sit there with me. Keep me distracted if I start freaking out."
I brush my fingertips against her cheek. "Of course, Ally."
My body is lighter than air. She's asking for my help. Finally. She's always so tight-lipped about this, but she's asking for my help.
"It's not a big deal." She bites her thumb again, her eyes on the floor.
"Okay." I nod. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For asking... for telling me."
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