I give up, letting my head drop like it’s suddenly too heavy to hold up.
Riley tries to stifle a laugh. I shoot him an icy look and follow Jenna with Livy clutched tight. No one’s taking her from me ever again.
Within minutes, we’re buckled up in my car.
She wanted to use public transit, but when you’re famous, buses and subways get awkward—your face is plastered everywhere. People stare at you. Annoying people come up and ask for an autograph or a selfie. Since I don’t like to be an ass to my fans, I prefer not to use the subway.
So, she granted me permission to drive.
Livy sits behind us, glued to the window. She’s like me—shuts down if she’s uncomfortable, especially around strangers. Otherwise, she’s bright as a button. She’s got that fire that can drive you insane, but I swear—if there’s ever someone in her lifewho tries to smother it in the future, I’m going to have serious words with them. The kind of words that come with threats and poor impulse control.
We drive to Jenna’s office in silence—she sits next to me clutching her pen like a weapon, her legal pad filled with red-inked notes and “DICKFACE!!!” doodled across the top.
I keep opening my mouth like I want to speak, but nothing comes out. What can I say? I’ve made everything worse.
“We can’t go to your office,” I suddenly say.
“What?” Jenna tries to follow my gaze, turning her head to look out the window. “Colton. No. Turn around again. I swear?—”
“My ex is standing in front of that building. She’s probably waiting for us.”
Damn. How does she know Jenna’s my lawyer? Social media article, I guess.
“Even if she’s there?—”
“I’m not talking to her now. She’ll just unsettle Livy.”
She sighs. “Fine. So where? I need a laptop.”
“Don’t you have one at home?”
“I don’t bring clients to my home.”
I take a deep breath. Then I do something I’ve never done: I beg.
“Please, Jenna. I can’t face her right now.”
She’s silent. Then I see her posture soften. She rolls her eyes and exhales dramatically. “Aaaall right. You know where I live. We’ll go to my place then.”
She mutters under her breath—something like “What did I ever do to deserve this?”—and we drive off without another word. Just knowing my ex has no clue where we’re headed calms me down.
Jenna clicksthe door to her office shut and it sounds ominously final.
“Sit,” she says, looking more than ready to throw me out of the window. “We have to document the incident.”
Livy still clings to me, her tiny hand on my chest like an anchor as we take a seat.
Jenna’ sits across from us—laptop open, hair tucked behind an ear, fully in work mode even though this is a tiny room with just an old desk and a cheap shelf of binders. The chair I’m sitting on right now came from her dining table.
I hand my phone to Livy so she can play.
Good parenting? No, but I have zero patience for anything right now.
“Okay,” Jenna says, typing. “We have a massive problem.”
“She was alone,” I blurt out.
She doesn’t look up. “That’s not a legal term, Colton.”
