I struggled to keep the shock off my face. Did I continually see the worst in him because that was what I wanted to see? And what was I supposed to do with his kindness? And why did it bother me that he'd avoided talking about his family?
“Um, yeah.” It was the best I could come up with.
He swiped his thumb across my cheek. “You’ve got a little something here.”
Blake mimicked him, his chubby fingers grazing my face. “How. Ass.”
How I ended up being an ass all the time was my sentiment exactly.
Chapter Twelve
Patrick
Mr. Dixon gripped the edge of the door when he opened it.
His eyes darted from me to Marlow and back again. I was as surprised to be here as he was to see me. Somehow, when I’d helped put Blake and Wicked in the cab, I’d ended up in it too.
“Your son is supposed to bring the stroller and playpen,” I said.
He cleared his throat. “Come in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Everything go okay with the emergency?” I asked.
“Yeah. Two more ladies came in yesterday and Audrey had a huge program scheduled. She needed help managing both.”
“They need legal help?” I shook my head when he offered me a cup.
“I don’t know, but I can ask her. See if they do.”
“She doesn’t tell you why they come?” Marlow arranged Blake into a bouncy chair set up in the kitchen.
“Audrey would never betray their confidence,” he said, affronted.
“Are you sure it’s no trouble for you to keep Blake? I’m sure Holt expects I won’t show up at some point.” Resentment radiated from her.
Where was the woman I could make tremble from my touch? The one who let herself be a little bit vulnerable?
“If you need my services again, you know where to find me.” I slapped the counter twice.
“You thinking of hanging up that law degree? Forging a new path in child care?” Mr. Dixon winked.
“Ella and Blake seem to be about the only children I can tolerate. The rest—” I shivered. Kids. They terrified the shit out of me.
“You’ll change your mind when you have one of your own.”
I gulped down air. “What?”
“You’re young. Still have plenty of time to settle down and start a family.”
“Um, I’m not that young. And I think that’s my cue to go to work.”
“You always do that.” Marlow gripped the back of a kitchen chair. Her hair looked like shit. There was still some dried banana on her face. But damn if she wasn’t beautiful.
“Do what?”
And then she opened her mouth. “Run away when conversation shifts to topics you don’t like.”
“I learned from you.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Let’s talk about Jack.”
Her knuckles turned white, the glare she shot me fierce. “I have to get to the garage.”
I gave her an insincere smile. “My point exactly.”
“I’ll bring lunch by.” Mr. Dixon rubbed his hands together. “Are you going to make it, Patrick?”
“Not today. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” I held up my fist and he bumped it. “Later on, Mr. Dixon.”
“Later on.” I was almost to the entryway when he spoke. “We’ll see you on Sunday, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
I threw my pen across the office. Gerard ducked.
“I will only tolerate so much,” he said stoically.
“Sorry. If I’d known you were coming in, I would have thrown it over there.” I chunked another pen toward the bookcases to prove the point.
“What’s wrong with you?” He remained just inside the door.
“Why don’t you ever make yourself at home here? You’ve worked for me for what? Seven, eight years.”
“Almost eight.” He sounded surprised I was even in the ballpark.
“You’re over there, all formal. You can come in, take a seat. Hell, let’s have a drink. I could use one.” Or five.
“Do you need a physician?”
Maybe a straight jacket.
“I need to get laid.”
“Contrary to popular belief, that won’t solve problems. For instance, that case you neglected yesterday. Did leaving with that woman help?”
“That woman is the devil incarnate.” And not that it was any of his concern, but leaving with her had helped . . . and made things worse at the same time.
“She won’t let you fuck her.”
I gaped at my assistant. “I’ve never heard you curse.”
“I’m a professional.” He lifted his chin. “And I can’t say the same for you.”
“You don’t think I’m professional?” That stung a bit.
“Your language is abysmal.”
I sank down in my chair. “If that’s the worst thing about me, I can live with it.”
“If it’s the best?”
“I’ve got a problem.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as if he really didn’t.
“Legs. We’ll just leave it at that.”
His shoulders sagged in apparent relief. “That man is back out in the lobby. I’ve told him you are busy. He insists he’ll wait. Shall I have him removed?”
“Is he bothering you?”
“He’s quiet.”
“Any idea what he wants?”
“I told you. An attorney.” He held the notepad in his hands tightly. “I hesitate to tell you this, but he said he wants the best.”
I put the back of my hand to my forehead. “The perils of a stellar reputation.”
He scowled. “If you continue on this current path, you’ll lose it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You think I’m slipping?”
“You’ve gotten soft.” Gerard was nothing if not honest.
“Because I don’t want to defend guilty people?” I’d had a change of heart about the course of my life. What was the big deal?
“Once upon a time, you believed everyone was innocent until proven otherwise.”
“You work with enough of the kind of people I have and see if your opinion doesn’t change.”
He sniffed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been here for nearly eight years’ worth of them.”
“If you don’t like what I’m doing, why stay? Hell, why have you been here this long anyway? I make demands all day long. Do you even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?”
“I have neither, sir.”
I waved my hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter.”
“How can I forge a relationship
