“Like I said, it’s up to you, or we could meet with each client and handle them on a case-by-case basis once we determine what they want,” Connor said, trying to be reasonable. Although he was anxious to get started on this new venture, he didn’t want to leave bad blood behind. If things in Chesapeake Shores didn’t work out as he’d envisioned, he could someday be back in Baltimore looking for work.
“I’ll talk this over with the other partners and get back to you,” Grayson said. “They’re not going to be one bit happy about this, Connor. We’ve all invested a lot of time and energy in bringing you along with the firm. You’ve been our rising star.”
“And I appreciate that,” Connor told him. “I really do.”
Of course, what they appreciated was that from the beginning he’d been not only ambitious, but aggressive in building his caseload. They might have mentored him in many ways, but he’d brought that trait into the firm with him. While some of his colleagues might genuinely miss him, most would miss the income he’d generated. He had no illusions about that.
Less than an hour later, Grayson was back in his office. “If you refuse to reconsider, we’re agreed that it’s best for this to be a clean break. Mitch Douglas and Frank Helms will take over your caseload effective immediately. Their secretaries will notify the clients of the changes. You can transfer the files to them by the end of the day.”
Connor knew he shouldn’t be shocked, but he was. “You want me gone today?”
Grayson’s expression was cold and unyielding. Connor had seen him look the same way when going for a witness’s jugular in court.
“We think it’s best not to drag these things out,” Grayson said. “I’m sure you understand.”
Gone was any pretense of affection or even graciousness. It was clearly all business. Connor’s decision was viewed as a betrayal, and the partners were quickly cutting their losses. He was almost relieved by that. It told him a lot about the attorneys with whom he’d worked the past few years.
“Oh, believe me, I do understand,” Connor said just as coldly.
Something told him that not only had he made the right decision, he’d made it in the nick of time—before he turned into the kind of money-driven, unfeeling men he’d once admired.
* * *
Megan looked up from her book in surprise when she heard a car pull to a stop in front of the house. She was even more surprised when she saw Connor emerge. She’d taken a rare day off and had planned to spend it enjoying the quiet outside doing next to nothing. Her life had been an endless whirlwind since she’d moved back to Chesapeake Shores, remarried Mick and opened the gallery. Today, with Mick out at one of the Habitat for Humanity sites he oversaw, she’d envisioned an afternoon with no interruptions, least of all from her son.
“What brings you here in the middle of the week?” she inquired as he crossed the lawn. “Not that I’m not delighted to see you. I’m just surprised.”
“You can’t be too surprised,” he said, settling into a rocking chair beside hers. “The entire town seems to be in on the secret that I’m moving home.”
“Today?” she asked, stunned.
“No time like the present,” he said wryly. “That seemed to be the general consensus yesterday around my law firm, anyway.”
She regarded him with shock. “They kicked you out?”
He smiled at that. “Since I’d just quit, I don’t think you could say that, but they were surprisingly eager to have me gone.”
“Well, that hardly seems fair after all the hard work you’d done for them,” she said indignantly. “What kind of people are they?”
“Greedy and self-protective,” he assessed. “I think they were afraid I’d sneak off with all my clients if they gave me a chance to speak to any of them.”
“That’s absurd. You’re an honorable man.”
He laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. The truth is, I felt an amazing sense of freedom when I walked out the door for the last time yesterday. I figured I might as well load up my car with a few things this morning and head on down here.” He turned to her. “Will you and Dad mind if I stay at the house for a while?”
“Of course not,” she said, her expression brightening. “I’d love it.”
“And Dad?”
“Your father always loves having any of you underfoot. He likes to have someone other than me he can boss around.”
Connor regarded her with surprise. “Dad bosses you around?”
She laughed. “He tries. Occasionally I even let him think he’s getting away with it.”
Connor fell silent. “Can I ask you something?” he said after a while.
“Of course.”
“How do you all do it?”
She regarded him with puzzlement. “Do what?”
“Make a marriage work, especially after letting it fall apart the first time.”
Megan sighed. “Oh, Connor, there’s not a magic formula. I think your father and I both learned a lot from the mistakes we made during all those years we were married. I learned that I need to speak up if I want something. For way too long I expected your father to know I was unhappy without telling him what needed to change. Men aren’t mind readers. None of us are, for that matter. He needed to see that his compulsive drive to support his family, combined with a healthy level of ambition, was costing him too much time away from the very family he cared about. We needed to figure out the kind of balance and compromise that makes a marriage work.”
She met his gaze. “And just so you know, every couple is different. The need for compromise, however, is universal.”
“But you really believe it’s going to work this time?” he asked, a surprisingly wistful note in his voice.
“Not without hard work, but yes, I think it will work this time. We never stopped loving each other, you know.
