My boss and good friend Grace got married last year to the love of her life and a man who worshiped the ground she walked on.
My brother Brody recently got engaged to Leah, who he met at Wyatt’s wedding—she was the sister of one of the bridesmaids—and he looked at her as though she hung the moon.
I was constantly surrounded by people with these great love stories, the kinds you only read about in sappy romance novels. Hell, even my parents were high school sweethearts—they’d been together since the tenth grade and still acted like two kids in love every damn day.
And then there wasme. Cursed to be forever single, it would seem.
I’d had relationships, but they never lasted. My longest onewas in college and ended just shy of a year together. Sure, I had feelings, but I’d never been one who found being vulnerable and expressing those kinds of feelings easy. But even in those relationshipswiththose feelings, I never felt thatsparkyou hear about. I never felt that all-consuming passion, intense desire, oraching needto be with that person.
The most I got was a few butterfly flutters. And then their wings fell off, and they died. The end.
I was at the point where I’d come to believe that the epic love I grew up around, the kind I watched my brothers and my friends find, the kind my parents had…maybe it just wasn’t for me.
While I wasn’t actively searching for a love I was pretty sure didn’t exist, at least not for me, I was still a woman with needs. I didn’t go home with just any guy at any given time, but there were nights when I’d lower my inhibitions and just try to let loose and have some fun. But even those needs weren’t being met. I’d hit a wall. I was in a sexual slump and had been for nearly five months now. Hence, my annoyance with my brother throwing it in my face that I was alone on a Friday night.
At that point, I waspainfullyaware, and the last thing I needed was a reminder.
Chapter 3
My jaw tickedas I sat inside the courtroom in downtown Charleston, seated next to my client, Stephanie. Her soon-to-be ex-husband’s lawyer was currently arguing that we had no proof of the infidelity she’d accused him of, which would cancel out their prenup due to the infidelity clause written within it. The ex-husband was a big-time advertising executive who’d been sleeping with his secretary for the majority of their marriage. My client was a stay-at-home mom to their three-year-old son, and he was determined to leave her with nothing, including custody of their kid.
Lewis Sullivan, the lawyer for the ex-husband, was an arrogant prick I’d gone up against a few times before. He worked for Colson Legal Group, one of the biggest firms in Charleston.
“Mr. Callahan.” Judge Edwards looked at me. I’d known the man for years; he’d been good friends with my dad.
I stood. “Your Honor, wedohave proof of the infidelity. The defendant doesn’tthinkwe do because he tried to wipe theirhome computer of any evidence but clearly didn’t know what he was doing.”
Judge Edwards gestured to me, and I gave the bailiff the files I had to give him. “How did heallegedlytry to wipe it?”
“He took it to a local shop and asked them to reinstall the operating system after he’d removed it. He told them he didn’t need any files backed up and to wipe it clean. My client went to the shop to retrieve the computer after she suspected he’d taken it somewhere—that was the only local place nearby. The employee hadn’t done a wipe yet, only the reinstall, and was able to recover all of the files the defendantthoughthe got rid of within a couple of hours. And I have a statement from the employee there, and they’re willing to testify if need be.”
“That’s bullshit!” the soon-to-be ex shouted.
The judge looked at him. “If you can’t control yourself in my courtroom, I’ll have you removed.”
“It’s obvious the defendant is trying to get the prenup to stick simply so he doesn’t have to give my client what shedeserves,” I said.
“That is completely false,” Lewis interjected. “And how do we know that this so-called evidence wasn’t planted on theirsharedcomputer by the plaintiff herself after she retrieved it?”
I looked over at Lewis, my brow furrowing. “I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a smarter statement than what you just said.”
“Mr. Callahan!” Judge Edwards admonished. “One more statement like that, and I’ll hold you in contempt.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor.” I held up my hands. “But that is the mostridiculousaccusation. The photos show the defendant entangled in lewd acts with his secretary, photos thathetook and saved to the computerhimself. So, unless they claim that myclient is some expert Photoshop guru who can alter the footprint trails left behind on computer files, there isno waythe proof can be refuted.”
Judge Edwards flipped through what I’d given him, then looked up at the defense, arching his brow as if to silently ask what they had to say about it. When Lewis remained silent, the judge took off his glasses and let out a breath. “The prenup is out.”
I walked out of the courtroom alongside Stephanie twenty minutes later. “Thank you,” she said.
I smiled at her. “It’s not over yet, but you’re one step closer to being able to put this behind you.”
“Do you think he’s going to try anything else?”
“He might, just to simply drag it out to be a pain in your ass, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. And if his lawyer has a single brain cell left, he’ll advise him of that. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll figure it out. Go get your boy. I’ll keep you updated.”
I made my way down the stone steps and headed for my car after saying goodbye to Stephanie. “Callahan.” I turned at the sound of Lewis’s voice, watching him approach me. “My client is willing todiscusssettling outside of court.”
“Oh? I wonder where his sudden change of heart came from,” I quipped.
