“Marlow, I’m sorry. We’ve tried to be understanding about your . . . situation. If you show up at all, you’re making too many mistakes. We have to let you go.”
I hadn’t had it in me to be humiliated. I didn’t care about anything except that my son didn’t have a father. Would never know him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
I glared at him. “Why do you think?” I shouldn’t have snapped, but this was hard enough to admit in the first place.
“When did this happen?”
“Almost two years ago.”
He was quiet for a minute. I shifted in the uncomfortable silence. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here.
“I need dependable employees,” he said far too patiently. “Ones that aren’t liars.”
Ouch. I pretended not to hear the dig.
“When do you plan on opening?” My eyes drifted around the space again. Looked like a long way away.
“About a month.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are you doing here?”
We hadn’t really spoken much since the trip to Wyoming where I inadvertently almost ruined our brother Andrew’s wedding. I didn’t know how to answer him, only that I was sick of the distance between my family and me.
“You want a receptionist or not?”
“Dad said he’d help out until I find someone.” Holt quickly looked away in a why am I telling her this fashion.
“He’s keeping Ella almost every day. You can’t pile this on him too.”
“Because he’s buried underneath all the shit you’ve shoveled on top of him?”
Damn it. I was messing this up terribly.
“Yeah. That’s part of it.”
He stumbled back. That was about as much of an admittance of wrongdoing as I could muster.
I looked past him and then out to the open space where he could work on cars. “Looks like you could use all the help you can get.”
Baker stepped in front of Holt. “Are you here to cause trouble?”
“What did I say?” I snapped before I reeled it in. “Look. The offer’s on the table. You want our help, you’ve got it. You don’t . . .” I shrugged even as my stomach knotted.
Another epic fail by Marlow Linley.
Holt squeezed her shoulders. We stared at one another around his protector.
So much for our temporary truce.
I wheeled the stroller around and headed for the door without another word. Message clear. Big sister wasn’t wanted.
“Everybody’s meeting at Dino’s in about an hour.”
Almost to the exit, I froze. Maybe this wasn’t an epic fail after all.
Chapter Two
Patrick
“I don’t care that he killed his wife and mother-in-law. I’m not taking those cases anymore.”
I slammed the phone down and dropped my head to my desk. Growing a conscience sucked.
“Mr. Whitley, the hearing date for the Shaw case is set for six weeks. The check for the copier needs to be signed. Monica, who said you know who she is, called four times.”
“Where’s the check?’ I extended my hand without lifting my head.
Gerard placed it between my fingers and clamped them on the check.
“Can we change the number here?” I groaned.
“I’ll get on it right away,” my assistant said stoically.
“Don’t bother. They’ll all find us somehow.”
“Also, there’s a man in the lobby. He’s been here for two hours. Says he doesn’t mind waiting.”
I propped my chin on the desk. “What does he want?”
“An attorney.”
I resisted the urge to scream. No shit. Everybody wanted an attorney.
“Tell him we’re not taking on any more cases right now.”
“I did, sir. He’s insistent.”
“When you call me sir it makes me feel like my great-grandfather.”
“Did you even know him?” He arched one sculpted brow.
“Do you get those waxed?”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Your eyebrows. Do you get them waxed?” I repeated. They were perfect. Just like everything else about him.
“My personal hygiene is none of your concern.” His scowl deepened. “You have court at ten a.m. tomorrow.”
He strode from my office like the king leaving court. I dropped my head back to the desk. I was the king around here. At least I used to be before this thing spiraled out of control.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Go away,” I mumbled, even as I reached for it. I needed a vacation.
Dino’s in thirty.
I popped up. Hell, yes. Good Italian food with my favorite family? With the big bonus of the wicked witch being absent? Hell to the yes.
“Was beginning to think you weren’t going to show, son.” Mr. Dixon stood and thrust his hand out.
“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t make it myself. How’s the babysitter-in-chief?” I flicked my chin to the two strollers—wait, two? “You pulling double duty again?”
My best friend’s father got a funny look on his face.
“We’ve been waiting on your sorry ass to get here so my brother could share some news.” Andrew slapped me on the shoulder. “Leave it to you to have to be the center of attention.”
“You know me.” I shrugged and made the rounds. And he did. We’d been friends since college, and he’d put up with me all that time for reasons only the universe knew.
I kissed the back of Mrs. Quinn’s hand, her cheeks turning a shade rosier.
“Watch it, Romeo.” Mr. Dixon elbowed me as I released his lady friend’s hand. She was good for him. It was about time he found happiness.
“Trish, my lovely.” I bent and kissed her cheek.
She smiled. “Glad you could make it, Patrick.”
I checked my watch. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Delores?”
“Cricket’s closing up shop tonight. Should I be offended you haven’t been by my food truck this week?”
“I haven’t been anywhere but my office,” I complained, though she was a mother, wife, business owner, and survivor of . . . hell, so I didn’t much have the right. How did she do it all?
“Tomorrow?”
“He’ll be there.” Andrew shot me a look that said I’d better not disappoint his new bride.
I saluted. “I want those scalloped potatoes with the Gruyère.”
“Not that you’re demanding or anything.” Baker flashed a sugary smile in my direction.
“Did I upset you
