Page 18 of Broken Boss

“It wasn’t like that, Grant. It’s not like Nate was neglecting her.”

“I’m not saying he was. But his priorities weren’t in the right place, and he knew that. Not until Genevieve came around.” He turns to look at me, and all over again, I can’t help wishing I had a dad like Grant, instead of the man who disappeared when I was a teenager.

Maybe I wouldn’t be the way I am—ambitious. Stuck. Unhappy.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to let your guard down for once, Chris? It sounds like this woman, whoever she is, is getting to your soft heart.”

My chest roils with worry.

That’s the last thing I want, someone breaching the walls I put up. Grant knows me better than anyone else; he’s come to family events and saw me chase Eva around when she was a toddler. He’s watched me harass Nate and break tense moments with humor.

“It’s been getting hard to keep the balance,” I mutter reluctantly. At home, with family—acting as the goofball. At work, in the city—the coldhearted lawyer persona with a near-perfect track record. “But imagine what would occur if my opponents saw that side of me, Grant. I can’t let it happen.”

We share a somber look. Grant understands what I mean—it would be bad news for clients if the world saw me as soft. I wouldn’t be taken seriously, their cases wouldn’t be taken seriously, and the other firms would eat us alive.

Grant sighs heavily, shoulders settling, and suddenly he looks every bit the sixty-five-year-old man he is. Tired and scruffy with a two-day beard and wrinkles in his red tai chi shirt.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t know, Chris. Not to belittle the work we’ve done over the years, but sometimes I wonder…”

Trailing off, Grant stares out across the park. Somewhere, kids are laughing and a woman calls out. Two squirrels skitter up a nearby oak, the leaves a deep orange-brown, acorns littering the ground.

Autumn.

I should stop ignoring the signs she’s been sending me. The sneers, distrustful looks, the avoidance when she sees me coming down the hallway at Sharpe Law.

But she’s everywhere.

I can’t escape her.

Chapter 7

Autumn

Frank trails behind me as I nervously pace the apartment. A used frying pan sits on the stove, my dirty plate in the sink, laundry basket waiting by the door.

Frank still needs a decent walk, too. I have so much to do. But Saturdays are the day Stephen calls me. Until I hear from him, I just can’t seem to get anything done.

He has a fund set up that I routinely contribute to so he can afford the calls and ring direct instead of calling collect. I guess I’m paying for it either way. It’s a small price to know my brother’s okay.

Twelve years and I still worry about how he’s doing in prison. The first few months were the toughest as the pecking order was figured out around a new inmate. Luckily, our lower-class upbringing was more than enough to give Stephen a solid foundation in fighting, at least. He can throw a punch and put on a poker face.

The last few years have been quiet. He has a job with the prison library and passes most of his time by working out, reading, and studying marine biology—something that never would’ve caught his attention on the outside.

My heart aches with anxiety and I press a hand to my chest as Frank whines.

“It’s okay, boy.”

He stares me down, not looking very reassured. With a nervous little trot and the nudge of his nose, he herds me toward the couch. I plop down onto it and rub his big head.

Then my cell buzzes.

“Thank God.” Doesn’t matter that it’s been years; some days I still expect the call not to come at all. “Stephen?”

“Hey, sis.”

“You’re late.” The clock over the stove reads a few minutes after 9 a.m. Way past when I should be cleaning up the apartment and getting my clothes to the dry cleaner.

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