Page 70 of The Billionaire's Wife

I finally got to my exit and made my way through the still somewhat clogged streets of Alexandria and then Old Town until I got to the building that housed my office.

I parked and hurried in.

“Good morning, Mr. Lee.” Arlene glanced away from her computer and picked up a small stack of papers from her desk. “Here are your messages. Don’t you have court this afternoon?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I meant to update the calendar. Mediation finally came through. I guess once he realized we were content to appear before a judge, he backed down. I have a few things to write up, but at least it’s looking like we can settle things without it getting uglier.”

“I’ll update your calendar. Are you going to be taking new clients?”

I paused. With this case nearly settled, I had room in my schedule. At the same time, the uncertainty of the situation with Faith and the FBI might be a big demand on my time. “I’ll have to look at each one individually. I probably don’t have time for something complex just now.”

She frowned slightly before schooling her expression.

“What?”

“It’s not my business.”

I laughed. “Come on, Arlene.”

“Well, I just don’t know how you plan to keep your practice solvent without cases.” She crossed her arms. “I have bills to pay.”

“Your salary isn’t in danger, I promise. Even if the practice had money problems—which we don’t—I have personal savings that can cover us both for a while if needed.” It was an understatement, but I’d never felt the need to fill Arlene in on all the specifics. If she dug around online about me, she’d find an article or two that mentioned the b-word. Knowing her, she had that information. She wasn’t one to sit around idly when she had questions. But at this point, if she wanted to know, she’d have to ask directly.

“All right.” She offered a slight smile. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“I will. Thanks, Arlene.” I raised the messages in a sort of wave and headed back to my office. I unlocked it, flipped on the lights, and went to sit behind the desk. I started my computer and scanned the slips of paper.

Nothing urgent.

When my machine booted, I connected to the text messages on my phone—and how cool was that ability?—and clicked the link Allison had sent while I’d been driving.

I spent the next thirty minutes filling out the paperwork online and setting up the payment process for her. When I was finished, I double-checked the contact information I had stored for her in my phone so I was sure to give the proper details to whoever reached out from the FBI.

There was a big part of me praying that this was all just a bluff on Special Agent Orbison’s part. When I’d reached out to Christopher Ward at Robinson Enterprises on Scott’s recommendation, and he’d funneled me over to his sister, Rebecca, both had assured me that Orbison wasn’t an uptight, prosecute-at-all-costs kind of guy. Maybe they’d been wrong? Maybe he had a lot more riding on this than he had on whatever had concerned the Wards?

There was no way to know.

Should I reach out to them and ask? I dismissed the idea as soon as it came to me. What would be the point? They couldn’t do anything. And I didn’t really want them to. Faith and I would weather this together and, God willing, it would make us stronger as a couple and in our individual walks with Him.

I checked the time. I had several hours before I needed to pick up my parents at the airport and plenty of work here to occupy that time. And none of it was going to get done if I just sat here thinking about the “what-ifs.”

Before I dove in, I shot Faith a quick text letting her know I loved her. She still wasn’t sure how to deal with that, but I’d take it slow and show her I was serious. I was in this with her, for better or for worse, just like I’d promised all those years ago.

20

FAITH

“Go home.” Megan crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she stared at me. “I’ve got this.”

“But—”

“Pshhh.” Megan flicked her fingers at me. “I don’t know why you’re stalling, but you’ve more than covered your shift and it’s time for you to go home to your husband. You should be glad you can! Mine has to come here and hang out if he wants to see me in the evenings.”

“So let me close and you go home.” I grinned. It was the perfect solution. I could avoid seeing Tristan’s parents for one more day—surely they’d be exhausted after two days of international travel—and his parents wouldn’t be awake when I had to face sleeping in Tristan’s room for the first time.

“What’s going on?” Megan leaned against the checkout counter.

I sighed and my shoulders slumped. “Tristan’s parents are in town.”

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