If everything was as simple as Callum believed it was, we would have no problems in the world. He doesn’t see what it cost me, for him to leave. We lost our father when I was sixteen. Callum was more than just a brother to me, and it was so easy for him to leave London, for a fucking girl.
“So, you’re going to just toss me out? Homeless, without a job, in another country?”
“You want a job?”
“Are you daft? Of course I want my job.”
He eyes me carefully. “In the acquisitions department?”
He really is slow. “Are you toying with me?”
“No, not at all.” Callum moves toward me, and I suddenly feel like I’m being set up. “You’re reinstated, Milo,” he claps me on the shoulder. “You’re going to be Danielle’s assistant.”
Chapter Five
Danielle
“My assistant?” I ask.
“I know it’s not ideal, but I give him three days—tops. He’ll never last. My brother is . . . well, Milo.”
Great, so basically, I’ve adopted a grown man-child. Ugh. This is not how I planned to start my new career at Dovetail. I wanted to prove myself, not babysit the owner’s brother.
Not to mention that I clearly suck at parenting, if we take my daughter into account.
“Callum, I’m not sure this is going to be a good idea,” I say with a sigh.
“This isn’t to punish you, if that’s what you think.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t, I just . . .”
“I hoped you’d rise to the challenge.” He smiles.
My eyes meet his and I straighten in my chair. I know what he’s doing, and unfortunately, it’s working. I don’t back down. I tackle things head on, especially in business. My life might be in the shitter, but here, I can command what I want.
“I can, but this isn’t really a challenge, this is personal,” I clarify.
He nods. “It is, but I’m offering you a chance to put my spoiled brother in his place. To make him your bitch.” He grins.
“You want me to make his life hell?” I ask.
“As much as you can.”
Well, that I can do, but it still feels . . . wrong.
“He’s your brother, though.”
My sister is the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but she’s my sister. It’s true what they say about siblings—I can pick on them but no one else better.
“Yes, but he’s always been in charge. It’ll be good for him to see what ground level work is.”
I can’t actually say no. The reality is that Callum is my boss, and I just got this position. Do I like being in the middle of some family feud? Nope, but I like money. I like working, and promotions, and the company car, and access to the vacation homes that the company owns. So, I’m going to suck this up, and do my best to get Milo to quit so I can get a real assistant.
“Okay, if you really want me to do this, you’re the boss.”
Callum nods as I get to my feet. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
What I really want to say is: I hate this.
I walk down the hall, praying that Milo already quit, but no such luck. He’s sitting there in my office with a notepad.
Great.
He continues sitting and I take a minute to compose myself. If even half the stories about Milo are true, I’m in deep shit. He’s the male version of Nicole, but she controls herself when it comes to work. According to some of the office fodder, he does not.
“Okay, so you’re my new assistant it seems,” I say from behind my desk.
“That I am, even though I did your job for . . . oh, seven years.” He gives a fake smile. “But my brother has once again underestimated me. I wouldn’t suggest you do the same, sweetheart.”
“Danielle or Mrs. Bergen.”
“Come again?”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. I’m your boss,” I say. If I don’t put my foot down and squash this now, it’ll get worse. I need an assistant, and if that’s his job title, he’s going to start acting the part.
“Oh.” He gives a mischievous smile. “I see, you’re the boss and I’m the employee. I like it.”
I would like if his voice didn’t make me want to sigh and ask him to say other things so I can hear him talk.
Why is an accent like catnip to women?
I shake the thought from my head. “Yes, so, I’d like to have you start working on a few projects we have coming up.”
“You’re serious?” Milo asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re going to have me do menial tasks?”
“As opposed to . . .”
He bursts out laughing and slaps his leg. “Okay, I get it. Lesson learned. I’ll be a good boy from now on.”
I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. “Since Dovetail is now a US based company, you’ll need to fill out a bunch of forms and go down to personnel. I’ll have some things on your desk for when you get back.”
Milo’s face falls when he realizes I’m not kidding. However, he gets to his feet and heads to the door.
“Milo,” I call his attention.
His eyes meet mine and I can feel the anger roll off him. Instead of backing off, I further assert myself as the alpha in our new relationship. “Be sure to close the door on your way out. I have a lot of work to do.”
“This is going to be fun for both of us.” He grins and heads out the door, closing it behind him.
After a second, I release a heavy breath and close my eyes. “Yeah, loads of fun.”
I pour a glass of wine, chug it, and refill it again. After the day I had, I should grab a straw and drink from the bottle, but I’ll keep it classy for now.
It’s now nine. Parker is asleep, and Ava is giving me the silent treatment, which is like a gift from God. I’d rather have peace and quiet than her yelling right now.
I turn the television on and shove another piece of pizza in my mouth. Calories don’t count on days like this. Tomorrow, I’ll spend an hour at the gym to make up for my meltdown today.
I’m flipping through the channels when someone knocks on my door.
What in the hell?
I open the door and see Richard Schilling, Peter’s partner at the firm standing before me.
“Danielle.” He smiles.
“Richard, is everything okay?” I ask, looking at what I’m wearing, wishing I didn’t look like a hot mess.
“Yes, sorry I didn’t call first, but I saw the lights on and thought this would be better in person.”
I haven’t seen Richard in months. When my husband was killed, I found that everyone wanted to help. They’d come by with food, mow the yard, fix the shutter that fell, or offer to take Parker to Cub Scouts because . . . I lost that person. Then, they gradually stopped calling or coming over. Their lives had gone on with their own families, and we’d been forgotten.
I get it.
I don’t begrudge them, because when our neighbor passed away, it was the same thing. I would bring casseroles, sew a costume, or anything to help, but it became an afterthought as time passed.
“Yeah, of course,” I say pulling the door open. “Come in.”
He enters, and I can imagine his thoughts about the house. It’s a mess, but I don’t give a shit. I’m a mess. My kids are a mess. It’s only fitting the house be in disarray as well. I’m doing the best I can and fuck anyone who judges me.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask.
“No, no, thank you. How are you doing?”
I shrug. “I’m making it work.”
A few months ago, I decided to stop telling everyone what they wanted to hear about how we’re doing. The truth is ugly, but it’s real. No one is doing great after they lose their husband like I did. Yes, you find a “new normal” but there’s a void that will never be filled. That’s reality, and I don’t give a shit if it makes me look weak. I’m holding my family together with tape and chewing gum right now.
“Lisa sends her best,” he tacks on.
“Tell her we said hello as well.”
I’ve known Richard a long time. He’s a ruthless lawyer who always had big plans for his life. With Peter by his side, they were an unstoppable team. Right now, he looks like he’d rather be in court trying to defend a killer than here. He shifts his weight back and forth while gripping his neck.
“Richard,” I say after a few moments of awkward silence. “What’s going on?”
He looks at me and I see him slip into lawyer mode. As sad as it sounds, I’ve missed that face. Peter would do the same, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen it.
“We got the trial date set.”
“Oh,” I say, taken back a bit. It was postponed twice and I pushed it so far to the back of my mind, I almost forgot. “When?”
“In two weeks.”
“Soon,” I note.
My chest is tight when I think about all of this being brought back to the front. The trial is supposed to be a form of closure, but I’m going to have to fight through pain to get there.
“We’ve petitioned the court to be released from his defense, but then he contested.”
My head jerks back. “What? You mean you’re going to defend the man who killed Peter?”
Richard walks toward the couch and taps the wood table. “The judge will side with us considering the circumstances.”
“I don’t understand,” I say quickly. “How the hell is this even possible?” My voice is on the edge of frantic. None of this makes any sense.
“Peter’s killer was my client, not his. He was on retainer and Peter was helping out when I was already tied up in another trial. So, there’s a lot of legal crap, but we have to petition the court to be released from being his attorney.”
I release a heavy breath and tears fill my vision. “But that could get denied, right?”
“Well— yes, but it won’t, Danni.”
How does he know that? “Why would he even want you to be his attorney? That seems so stupid.”
“It is,” Richard says. “Which is why we’re not worried about it. The issue is that whatever he said is bound by attorney-client privilege. I can’t . . . tell you more . . . but there’s a reason he wants me to stay on. It could jeopardize his case and if he keeps me on, I can’t testify.”
“So, I could have to go to that courtroom and see you sitting next to the man who shot and killed my husband, your partner and best friend, in cold blood?”
“Danielle,” he touches my arm. “No judge will do this. They won’t . . . we . . . we’re doing what we can to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
I start to move around, needing to work off some of my excess feelings. This can’t be real. If this is even a possibility, I’ll never be able to handle it. If Richard didn’t think there was some real chance, he’d never tell me. A heavy sense of betrayal fills me.
“This! This is why he’s dead! Because you help criminals. People who are murderers, rapists, pedophiles and God only knows what because,” I put my fingers up and air quote, “this is where the money is.”
“I’m not trying to upset you, I just wanted to give you all the info.”
This is unreal. “So what happens if the judge makes you do it?”
“That’s highly unlikely,” he says as soon as I finish.
“But it’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Sure, it’s possible, but not probable. Please, calm down.”
“Then why tell me?” I toss back.
He runs his hand through his hair. “Because if it does happen, I don’t want you blindsided.”
I can’t even imagine what would happen if that had been the case. I try to calm myself, but my imagination runs wild. I envision Richard sitting beside my husband’s murderer, finding a way to get him off on some bullshit technicality, because he’s that good. It would be horrible to see someone, my daughter’s godfather, defend her father’s killer.
“If this happens . . .”
“It won’t,” Richard tries to reassure me. “Right now, we need to go before the judge because the client is appealing. Like I said, I know things that I’m sure my client wants protected.”
“Murderer,” I correct.
Richard looks at me with confusion.
“When you call someone a client, or the suspect, you humanize him. He’s not a human to me. He’s a monster. We’re not just guessing this guy did it, Richard. He walked into your law firm, saw my husband at his desk, shot him, and walked out. It was on camera. We saw his face. He’s not a client, he’s a murderer. Calling him anything less than that is an insult to me, my husband, and our children.”
I’m not a heartless person. I’ve tried my entire life to see the good in others and be forgiving. There are some things that no one can forgive.
“I’m sorry, Danni, I really am. This is . . . murky water for the firm.”
Once again, I’m reminded of the things I hated about Peter’s job. In my world, there’s a right and wrong. Those who do wrong should be punished, but Peter’s job was to take the facts and create illusions and holes in the case.
I can’t even count how many times he and Heather went to war at a dinner or cookout.
“I guess for you it is.” I rub my forehead. “I’m not sure what to say at this point.”
“I promise, none of us want to defend him. No one in my office is willing to fight for him, but we’re not the ones who get to make the call. If the judge believes we run the risk of a mistrial in his other case, we could be forced to stay on as his council, I just don’t think we hit that point where that’s possible.”
I know he feels it won’t happen, and I can only hope a judge has mercy, but I’ve seen stranger shit happen in court.
We don’t know what the outcome will be, but the trial will happen soon, that much is true. I’ll have to face him again, hear details, and find a way through a new round of grief. As if this last one hasn’t been brutal enough.
Chapter Six
Danielle
“So, is he hot in person?” Kristin asks as our kids play in backyard.
“Is who hot?”
She rolls her eyes. “Umm, your new assistant.”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Because you’re avoiding talking about it.” She looks at me over her wine glass.
“I am not.”
Okay, I am a little, because there’s nothing to say. He’s Callum’s brother, my assistant, and . . . I’m in mourning. Guys aren’t hot to me right now.
The only thing I find hot right now is a bubble bath with wine and candles where no children pop their heads in to ask if they can have milk. Or a night without Ava and Parker fighting, that would be hot as hell. But my assistant?
Sure, he’s good looking, has thick arms, and a voice that’s silky and smooth, but he’s not hot. He’s a guy. One that I’ve heard is a player with entitlement issues. No thank you, I already have a sixteen-year-old.
“If you’re not avoiding it, then spill. Is he hot or not?”
I huff. Lying to Kristin is foreign to me. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like I needed to, but I don’t want to talk about this. “Can we change the subject? The way he looks is irrelevant.”
“After you tell me if he’s hot.” She raises her brows in a challenge.
“What does it matter? He’s Nicole’s brother-in-law, my employee, and was a pain in the ass for the whole two hours I dealt with him.”
Kristin puts her wine glass down and leans forward. “Not the question I asked, Danni. I asked if he was good looking, which by the way your cheeks have turned bright red, the answer is yes.”
“You’re a dick.”
She leans back with a smirk. “You just hate that I’m right. I’ve seen pictures, we all know he’s freaking ridiculously sexy.”
Kristin is my person. She’s the one who I would bury a body for, not that I wouldn’t for Nicole and Heather, but Kristin gets me on a whole other le
vel. We were pregnant at the same time, we were each other’s maid of honor because my sister is a complete ass, and we know pretty much everything about one another.
There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her.
However, right now I’d like to slap her.
She takes a drink and stares at me. When I don’t answer, she continues on. “So much so that I’m shocked Nicole didn’t swindle Callum into some three-way with Milo. Could you imagine her with the two of them?”
“Oh my God!” I groan, trying to cover my ears. “Please stop talking. Callum is my boss and Milo is my . . . assistant . . . until he quits. I don’t need visions of them in bed with Nicole.”
Kristin giggles. “Fine, fine, so tell me about him.”
I have no idea why she’s pushing me. “Is Noah coming home soon?”
“Why?” she asks.
Her boyfriend is doing reshoots this week for the movie he just finished. He’s been very in demand since his last movie won a ton of awards. It’s great to see him happy and able to be more selective about what roles he takes. Noah is truly a wonderful man. He takes care of Kristin in a way she’s never had before. Her ex-husband is the shit on my shoes, but Noah showed a love worthy of her.
He also distracts her from meddling in my life.
“Just asking when you’ll be too busy to care about dumb crap again and focus on what matters.”
“You’re not dumb.”
“I didn’t say I was dumb,” I correct.
Kristin touches my hand. “As much as you think this is about Milo and his hotness, it’s not.”
I look at her with confusion.
She sighs and continues. “This is about you getting back out in the world. Seeing things again without tunnel vision.”
Here we go.
“I am out in the world, Kris. I needed money, so I got a job. A good one too. I have my family, friends, and I don’t sit around crying. Am I sad? Yes, I’m sad. I miss him, but I’m out there living, doing everything I can.”
If I Only Knew Page 4