Reluctantly, I agreed, and I made the motion to the judge. I was interrogated as if I were the one who’d made the decision, but finally the motion was granted, and I called Belinda to tell her.
“Great. I can’t wait to tell Jonas.” She ended the call.
I continued to stare at the black screen of the phone. “You’re welcome. No problem at all. I always work for free.” Not that I expected payment, but a thank-you would’ve been nice.
What would have also been nice was a call from Keston. Or another surprise visit. This time I wouldn’t push him away. I’d rather be weak-willed and well-fucked than strong and solitary.
Unfortunately, my wishes didn’t come true, and I went to bed alone and woke up the same way. I decided to drown my sorrows in a spin class. If I couldn’t get screwed, I might as well get sweaty and sore another way. The class was crowded, and I used the opportunity to check out the guys. Skimpy, tight shorts made the hour go by quickly, and there was one guy in particular who’d always caught my eye. He was no Keston, but I was so damn lonely.
The music stopped, and the class was over. I got off the bike and headed to the showers. I’d just finished drying my hair when the guy I’d ogled stopped behind me and ran a finger across my nape. He was still in his tight bike shorts, which showcased an impressive package.
“You missed a spot.” He smirked. “Want me to get it for you?”
I met his eyes in the mirror and handed him the blow dryer. “Sure.”
Hot air hit my neck, followed by his lips. “I’ve been watching you for a while.”
“Have you now?” I murmured, doing the dance, though my heart wasn’t in it.
“Wanna get together later?”
“Sure. Call me.” I reached into my wallet and handed him my card.
“My name’s Dallas. But in case you forget, lemme make sure you remember me.” Giving me no chance to take a breath, he kissed me, sticking his tongue down my throat while grabbing my ass. My instinct was immediate, and I pushed him away.
“Whoa. Slow your roll.” Huge cock or not, I didn’t like to be mauled. Plus, sloppy, wet kisses weren’t my thing.
Dallas rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those date-me-before-I-screw-you types. We both got an itch. Let’s scratch it.”
Maybe I was getting old. In the past, I might’ve been into a little bump and tickle with a random hottie, but somehow the prospect of being merely one more in line with this guy left me depressed.
Besides, I didn’t want him. I wanted Keston.Dammit.
“I hope you have something else going for you besides being hung like a horse, but I’m not interested in finding out. Lose my number.”
I walked away.
My day didn’t get any better in the afternoon. In the middle of preparing a complicated estate plan for a new client, I heard a loud, demanding voice outside my door. I tried to ignore it, but when I recognized who it was, I clicked out of the file.
Son of a bitch. Just what I didn’t need today.Keeping calm because I didn’t want to lose my cool, I opened my office door. In all my years of practice, she’d never come to my office. Why now?
“Jennifer, what do you want?” I put a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder to reassure him. “Don’t worry. She’s my mother.”
Lincoln gaped at me. “Mother? I-I’m sorry, Bailey. I didn’t know. She just came in and started demanding to see you and wouldn’t give me her name. I thought she was your new client at two o’clock, Mrs. Fishbein. The eldercare-abuse client.”
Without a word, Jennifer sailed past me in a cloud of cologne. Coughing, I waved a hand in front of my face. “Don’t worry, Linc. She might be my mother, but I’d barely call her that.” I squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
I returned to my office and shut the door. “To what do I owe this greatest of pleasures, Jennifer?”
My mother wasn’t done. “That sad excuse for a receptionist should be fired.”
I sat at my desk and clasped my hands. “Lincoln is the best. Why would I do that?”
She arranged her hair and smoothed her skirt. “I don’t think I look old enough to have an almost forty-year-old son, and he calls me elderly. How dare he?”
“Why are you here?” It could only be one thing. Money. That was the only reason my mother ever initiated contact with me, but I tried to keep an open mind and waited.
“I’m here to talk to you about selling the house. Every time I mention it, you ignore me. Here you can’t. I hate it, and I don’t belong there.”
