chapter 2
HUNTER
“YOUR NEXT APPOINTMENT IS in thirty minutes,” Yvonne, the receptionist at Bentley & Channing Law, says to me.
“Thanks, Yvonne,” I call out to her as she already starts to disappear. I use the free time to check my emails, but I’m interrupted when Jaxon Bentley walks in. Before opening his own firm, Jaxon was a prosecutor, and he’s gotten himself in and out of a few sticky situations over the years. Not only is he a great lawyer, one I’m proud to say I work with, he’s a good man, and one of the best to have by your side. That’s why he’s not only my boss but also one of my very closest friends.
“You busy?” he asks, taking a seat opposite me. I swear my colleagues are in here more than any client ever is, although I can’t complain, because whenever I have a spare moment I head over to their offices to annoy them, too. Got to get my kicks somehow. Being a smaller firm, it’s allowed us to become friends and adopt an almost-family-like office culture. We aren’t competitive with one another like in other firms. Not only is the firm known for its reputation as having the best lawyers, it’s also such a great environment to work in. We support one another and help whenever we can. I never dread coming to work, because I love what I do, and I also get to see these guys every day. It’s a win-win.
“Nope,” I say, moving my laptop aside. “I’m just catching up on emails. Everything okay?”
My next client is a domestic violence case, one I’m working on pro bono. I always get a little worried about clients like this, because you never know what can happen in between court dates. Ever since I met Jaxon’s girlfriend, Scarlett, who was a victim of domestic violence herself—and was actually accused of murdering her ex-husband, a local police officer—I’ve started volunteering my time to help more women who find themselves in similar situations, trying to do my part to put such abusive men behind bars and away from the ones they’ve been hurting. When Scarlett was arrested, all the evidence was against her, and there was no proof of her claim that he abused her. I don’t think anyone believed she was innocent, except Jaxon, but she was, and he was able to prove it to the world. The two of them met and fell in love, and the rest is history.
It can be frustrating though, because I’ve seen a lot of the women go back to these men or retract their statements, which isn’t a good feeling, but I can’t help anyone who doesn’t want to be helped.
“Yeah, everything is fine,” he says, leaning back in the chair, getting comfortable. His eyes are impassive. I never know what he’s thinking, unless he wants me to; it’s probably what makes him a great lawyer. “I have an hour free and thought I’d come see what you’re doing.”
“Assumed I’d be doing nothing?” I joke, pulling out some carrot and celery sticks and dip I stole from Kat this morning. I place it on the desk between us. “Morning tea.”
“Nailed it,” he replies, grabbing a carrot and dipping it into the eggplant dip. Not my favorite, but it’s better than nothing. “My schedule is hectic this week, so I really need to enjoy any quiet moments I can get.”
“How’s Scarlett?” I ask.
“She’s good,” he says, chewing thoughtfully as he grabs a celery stick. “To be honest, I don’t remember a time that I’ve been happier.”
“Good.” I nod, slowly smiling. “Says something when a woman makes you happier than your career, right?” I tease.
We all work long hours, and work usually trumps all. I applaud Jaxon for being able to maintain a balance between home and work life. I only hope when I find the woman I’m meant to be with, I can manage to do the same. But until I meet her, I’m happy with being a workaholic who likes the company of different women.
Riley’s face flashes in my mind, but I push it aside. She’s married; it’s never going to happen. I’d never do anything with another man’s woman; I do have some morals, no matter what others might think.
Jaxon chuckles. “You’re right. Work was my life until Scar came into it.” He glances up and studies me. “You’ll meet someone who will do the same to you.”
“I’m not so sure,” I tell him.
Or maybe I have, but I can’t have her. I don’t say that out loud.
I chose to pursue family law for a reason. When I was growing up, my parents would foster kids all the time. I still keep in contact with a few of them. I remember hearing some of the things they’d been through, or seeing the aftermath of it with my own eyes, and wishing I could do something to help. What most people don’t know is that while I have a high-profile career representing celebrities and the filthy rich when they’re going through a divorce or custody battles, I also do a lot of pro bono work, helping out families who need me and children who otherwise wouldn’t have a voice. I love my work, and not just because I’m well paid for it.
“I don’t know,” Jaxon continues. “The men in this place are falling, one by one, and I’ll place a bet you’re next.”
“What about the women? Can’t Yvonne be next?” I groan, throwing her under the bus.
Jaxon starts to laugh. Hard. “Does Yvonne even date? Trust me, she’s going to be single until the end of time.”
He has a point. “Well, whatever this contagious disease is, I want no part of it.”
“You say that now,” he says enigmatically, standing up and wiping his hands together. “I’m going to go and grab a coffee. Do you want one?”
I shake my head. “No, but thanks. My client is due any minute.”
“See you at lunch,” he says, exiting my office.
I finish the last of the carrots and celery, pondering the conversation we just had.
Maybe I’m not as opposed to finding “the one” as I pretend to be.
My client, Laurie Karen, arrives, and we go through her case, and I write down her statement about her husband, who turned abusive and started threatening their three children. It’s hard to listen to, but this is the reality of the world we live in. Pretending things like this aren’t happening won’t fix anything. There’s bad in the world, but it’s up to us to stand against it.
This is why I became a lawyer.
Everyone sees the status, money, and all that, but this right here is why I chose family law.
If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m going to do it.
“LET ME GUESS, YOU want the usual?” Riley asks, fiddling with the red bandanna she always wears. “And a coffee?”
I nod, even though I really wish I could drink a beer right now, which I do order for lunch on occasion when the day has been stressful. “Yes, please. Pretty busy in here today.” I glance around, taking in all the people. I’m glad it was her who came to serve me, even if I had to wait a few minutes. “Guess everyone is finding out about our secret spot.”
She flashes me a lopsided grin. It’s fucking cute. “I sure hope so. I really need the place to pick up a bit. How’s your morning been?”
Why does she have to be married? And who is her husband? I don’t know much about him, not even his name. Is he good to her? Does she love him? She must. Riley isn’t the kind of woman to marry someone she doesn’t love. She never mentions him though. But that doesn’t surprise me. As friendly as Riley is with me and my coworkers, she always has a guard up. She never lets conversations about her ever get too personal, instead preferring to keep it professional yet friendly. She intrigues me.
Not that it makes a difference. As much as I like to have fun, and have been known to not have too high of a standard for the women I date, I do have lines I won’t cross. I deal with people who get divorced, cheat, and play dirty every day, and I see the destruction it brings to families. I’d never willingly be the cause of that, regardless of how I felt about a woman. Besides, I’d never want a woman who would cheat anyway. But despite all that, I still find myself wanting to be around Riley, to talk to her, even though I know that nothing can ever happen.
Pretty fucked-up.
I need to meet more women. I haven’t been putting myself out there like I normally do.
Forget about Riley.
And I will, just not yet.
“Not too bad,” I tell her as she slides me my coffee. “Had a little free time, which was rare, but the rest of the day is going to be busy. I have to go to court again.”
“Your life is so much more interesting than mine,” she says, placing the coffee in front of me and leaning forward on her elbows. “The best thing that happened here today was that a girl Preston went on a date with last week walked in. They’d met online and it was apparently the worst date ever, and she had no idea he worked here. You should have seen both of their faces.”
I laugh at her story, at the way her face gets all animated, like she’s so excited to be telling it. I could listen to her talk for hours; I don’t care what she has to say. I’m hopeless; I know.
“So what happened?” I inquire, wanting to hear more.
“Well, Preston was the only one available to serve her, so he had no choice. She hesitated for a bit, I think she was considering walking out, but in the end she awkwardly walked up to the bar and ordered a mocktail,” she says, softly laughing to herself. “They both pretended the date never happened, that they didn’t know each other, but it was so painful to watch. Their body language . . . I almost felt sorry for Preston.”
“He should have played it off, made a joke or something,” I chuckle. “What was so bad about the date?”
“She spoke about her cat the entire time,” Riley deadpans, shaking her head. “And asked Preston if he wanted to meet him. His name is Meowth, like the Pokémon, and when Preston said he didn’t like cats, he’s more of a dog person, she started crying.”
I can’t stop the laughter that spills out of me. Only Preston would find a chick like that.
“Bet you’ve got a few of those stories,” she adds, her sassy attitude making an appearance. I’d never let her know it, but I like her attitude. She thinks I can’t handle it, but she has no idea. And I guess she never will.
Right woman, wrong timing.
“I might,” I reply, shrugging. Sometimes I play into who she thinks I am. It’s safer that way. She thinks I’m a womanizer, and I have been in the past, but I’m not like that anymore. It’s pretty hard to be when you only have eyes for one woman, whether she’s yours or not. In my case, I’m a sucker for punishment. “But I’m not going to tell them. I think you’d enjoy that a little too much.”
“I probably would,” she agrees, our gazes holding. It’s a little dangerous whenever we look into each other’s eyes, because I can read her so easily. They give everything away. Big and hazel, all her emotions flutter through them. And when she smiles, she uses them too.
She’s not as immune to me as she wishes to be, which is just another reason why this is so fucked-up. Yet here I am, getting my daily dose of her, even when I know this is all we’ll ever be.
“Let me know if you want anything else,” she says, heading to serve some other patrons who approach the bar.
I’m left there, watching her, waiting for my food to arrive, wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life.
I’VE JUST GOTTEN BACK to my office when Yvonne sends a call through.
“Hello?” I say down the line, shuffling into my seat and turning on my computer.
“Hunter? It’s Derick,” my old friend from law school says. I haven’t heard from him in months, so I have a feeling he’s going to ask for a favor. That’s the only time either of us call each other these days, and I should know, because the last time I called him I asked if he could call in a favor with one of his cop buddies.
We exchange pleasantries until he gets straight to the point. “I need a favor. Any chance you can take on another client last-minute? You’re the best in family law, and this man is my real estate agent and he can pay your full rate. I kind of owe him one.”
So everyone just owes everyone fucking favors now.
“What’s the catch?” I ask him. Referrals and taking on a new client is no big deal, but there’s usually more to it when someone calls and asks.
He’s silent for a few seconds, then says, “Yeah, he has a mediation meeting with his ex tomorrow morning.”
That would do it.
I check over my schedule. “What time?”
“Ten a.m.”
“Why doesn’t he have a lawyer already?” I ask, because this is leaving it a little fucking last-minute. I guess this is the catch. My schedule is pretty full, but I probably could fit this meeting in. Lucky for him.
“Well, I offered to help him out,” he explains. “But he wants you. He called your firm, but your receptionist said you aren’t taking on anyone new at this point because your workload is too full.”
Shit.
I don’t exactly have a good feeling about this, but I do owe Derick a favor, and if this man wants me, well, I guess I can give him that—for Derick, anyway.
“All right, send me over the details. And Derick—” I start.
“I owe you one. I know. I know.”
Yes, yes, he does.