Leighton’s lawyer raises her hand and narrows her eyes at the other lawyer. “First of all, I don’t think ‘piecemeal babysitters’ is an appropriate reference to the children’s grandmother and great-aunt watching them. Plus, Miss Sinclair being single has no bearing on her ability to be a guardian. Mr. Lochs, there are plenty of single mothers raising their kids while juggling work schedules.”
Mr. Lochs turns to Miss Dupont. “To their own children. These aren’t her children, so the court gets to decide who should raise these kids. My clients offer a more ideal living situation than your client.”
Miss Dupont blows out a breath. “Are you suggesting, Mr. Lochs, that those parents aren’t doing what they should for their kids?”
“No, Miss Dupont. I’m suggesting that, given the option—and there is one now that my clients are contesting guardianship—it is more preferable for these children to be with the brother of their father, who’s in a committed marriage. Julianna could turn in her notice, and they would still be fine financially. They can give the children the love and routine and security similar to the household they had before their parents’ untimely death.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You are such…” Miss Dupont pauses and looks at the judge. “The will states that Skylar and Patrick Sullivan named Leighton Sinclair as the guardian to their children. We cannot overturn that decision, as I’m sure it was not made lightly. We must abide by their wishes for the children.”
She straightens her back, glances at Mr. Lochs, then returns her attention to the judge. “It does not matter whether or not Miss Sinclair is married. It has no bearing on this case. Her schedule as a nurse—does it matter? Yes. But she has already figured out a solution to that. There are plenty of people who work and raise children without a partner.”
“Very true, but that’s not what these kids are used to,” Mr. Lochs argues. “They’re used to a mom who stayed at home. And they’re used to a dad who went to work. And they’re used to a mom who volunteered…”
He goes on and on while Leighton’s shoulders sink a little every time that man says something she can’t do.
“My clients will have time to spend with the kids. They can do the bake sale. Be part of the PTA. I hate to say it, but Miss Sinclair can’t. She doesn’t have the time in her schedule to devote to these kids’ needs like my clients do.”
Leighton leans forward with her hand on her forehead.
Fuck me. My hands fist on my thighs in an attempt to contain my anger before I jump over the railing and punch Mr. Lochs Mike Tyson-style.
Miss Dupont shakes her head. “You cannot honestly be?—”
The judge raises his hand, and both lawyers quiet down. “At first, when I saw the will, I thought this was a clear case—that the temporary custody would be granted to Miss Sinclair. But hearing Mr. Lochs’s argument, I have to say these children are going through a lot of change, and to have a similar routine with somebody so close as the biological brother does seem like it may be a better fit for the kids.”
“With all due respect, Your Honor, the children have been in the care of Miss Sinclair for the past six weeks,” Miss Dupont says more calmly.
“I understand that. And I’ll take it into consideration.” Then the judge sets his gaze on Leighton. “Miss Sinclair, hearing the two arguments, do you honestly believe that what you’re capable of giving the children is the same as what Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan can give them? That you have the time and energy to care for these kids while they are grieving their parents?”
Leighton stands, staring at the judge. “It was a big adjustment for everyone, but we’re fine, Your Honor.”
“With all due respect, ‘fine’ doesn’t really cut it when it comes to three children’s well-being,” Mr. Lochs chimes in.
Fucking hell. I’m gonna bite his ear off, Mike Tyson-style.
“There’s no comparison. She cannot do this by herself,” Mr. Loch adds.
The judge puts his hand up to stop him.
Hearing him state outright that Leighton can’t do this has the words rushing out of my mouth before I can stop them. “She isn’t!” I stand.
All heads swivel in my direction as my palms grow clammy.
“Excuse me,” the judge says. “Mr. Carlisle, what are you saying?”
My gaze sets on Leighton, hoping I’m doing the right thing. “She has me. I’m in a committed relationship with Leighton Sinclair.”
Lily gasps. “What? Leighton?”
I’ve always lived with the philosophy of go big or go home, and this is no different.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Hayes
* * *
