Maddie looked at her wide-eyed, almost a little scared. But she just wanted to know, “What’s that supposed to mean? 'Sometimes, we should just be daughters'?” Her voice was gentle, and there was compassion in her gaze. It was a plea so loud, yet silent. She wanted to hear a reason why it wasokaythat Rachel had let them down these past few years.
Nevertheless, no matter how many reasons she had, none justified her not returning much sooner.
Shit. Not now. She was too upset to do thisnow.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m not telling you what you want to hear, but I needed a little break, okay? That’s all. A little break from responsibility and…”
“It’s okay,” Maddie said quickly. “We didn’t mean to pick a fight.Right, Lucy?” She glared at her youngest sister.
“Uh-huh, sure,” she replied tensely.
Maddie rolled her eyes. “Sorry, Rachel. Obviously, it would be nice if you helped with Dad, but…”
“Iwillhelp,” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “I’m sorry, Lucy, okay? I’m sorry, Maddie. I’ve said it before: I’m the oldest, I should have taken on the responsibility after Mom died, but…” She trailed off. God, how could she explain it without destroying what was already on shaky ground?
“Her death hit you harder than it hit us,” Maddie whispered, squeezing her arm. “We know that. You were the ultimate mama’s girl. You had a special relationship. You needed space from us because we reminded you too much of her, right?”
She swallowed. “You could say that.” Again, it wasn’t the whole truth. “I never wanted a breakfrom you. I missed you. That’s why I’m here. It was difficult for me. I had the practice and my own grief.” She felt the guilt. “You can be angry with me, and you can yell at me. No matter what you do, I won’t leave,” she promised quietly, looking them straight in the eye. “I’m here to stay.”
And she hoped she wasn’t lying.
Chapter Six
Some situations are just shit. Stop whining and get a grip!
Tips and tricks for every situation from divorce lawyer Connor Stone
Such beautiful, insightful words. A natural philosopher! - Rachel
Couldn’t they do yoga a little farther down the beach? Why the hell did it have to be outsidehiswindow?
His client probably wouldn’t ask him in this meeting what Rachel James looked like in leggings and a sports bra, but he could have given a detailed, highly unprofessional description that was far more definitive than anything a lawyer had ever given.
Shit, if Rachel suddenly disappeared and the police were looking for her, he’d probably be the best witness right now!
He ran his hand over his face and tried to focus on Mrs. Teager. She was reluctantly writing down all the assets that had come out of their marriage, even though she’d insisted she didn’t care about anything as long as she got to keep the kids.
He believed her. She wasn’t interested in money or power. But that was exactly what made her vulnerable, and he wasn’t about to let her asshole husband take advantage of that and keep a penny more than he deserved. In those moments, he both loved and hated his job. He loved that he could help her and that he could make sure she received what she deserved, even though right now she believed she didn’t want it. That was all about to change. He hated that she looked so incredibly upset. He had to insist that she talk to her children about the fact that they might have to choose between their parents, at least in court, no matter how many times she assured him it wouldn’t come to that, that Mr. Teager wouldn’t force her hand. That he was merely bluffing.
Connor had been playing the game for too long. Angry, powerful men were far too seldom afraid to use their children.
So he didn’t blame his brain for preferring to focus on the way Rachel’s dark hair clung to the back of her neck as she saluted the sun.
The sisters didn’t look much alike. Lucy, the youngest, if he could believe Cian (which he could, because the guy could easily publish a gossip rag about Sunshine Pier), was under five-foot-seven with wavy dark red hair and a curvy body. Maddie had the same hair, only light brown and a rounder face than her sisters, which was what made her seem so likable (not that he would ever tell her that). Rachel’s hair, on the other hand, was long and hung straight down her back. It was darker than the other two. She was tall. When she stretched toward the sun like she was doing now, she was probably close to five-foot-eight. Her bodywas a mixture of athletic and sinewy, with the definite hint of a low-carb life. But her curves were in the right places to…
“Mr. Stone?”
Blinking, he tore his gaze away from the beach, even though he hadn’t noticed a single grain of sand.
Shit. He was unfocused, something he didn’t really allow in any area of life. He quickly closed the pleated blinds and cleared his throat. “Are these all the valuables and assets?” he asked, nodding at the list Mrs. Teager had just finished.
Hesitantly, she shrugged. “Well, there are his cars, but…they’rehiscars. I never used them, and he paid for them with his money. He needs them.”
“No oneneedsmore than one car. Write them down. Every single one,” he stated calmly. “You’re still married, Mrs. Teager. There’s nohisandmineyet. The cars are objects in your marriage, so you have a right to them.”
She sighed. Her kindness certainly made her daily life easier — but it was extremely impractical in a divorce. “Well, if you say so. About what you said the other day…” She nervously brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face as she added the cars. “I don’t believe it’s necessary to tell the twins that they might have to make a choice.”
Fuck. It was bad enough having to have this conversation once.
