Page 119 of Perfect Pitch

I’m startled when my mother stops short immediately upon crossing the threshold. Her face reflects surprise and wariness to find a magnificent redhead approaching us. She holds out a hand first to me. “Kensington.” She then turns to my mother. “Dr. Kensington. May I take your coats?”

As we shuck our outerwear, the redhead continues, addressing my mother, “It’s unusual we’re meeting like this again, but can I take a moment to thank you?”

“You’re welcome...?” She hands over her coat even as she stumbles over the woman’s name.

“Angela. Please call me Angie. Everyone here does.” She turns to me to take my jacket. “Your mom is kind of a badass.”

I relax fractionally even though Mama’s obviously confused at the titan-haired woman’s presence. “I know.”

“I was in a predicament one night when I heard you play at Redemption. She was fearless.”

That’s when the wood door behind Angie opens, and my mother turns to stone. Everything from her body to the expression on her face locks down. He murmurs, “Angie, honey, have you... Kensington. Dr. Kensington. Welcome to LLF.”

Mama’s voice reminds me of the time she tore a strip from my hide when I was plucked from Rodeo Ralph’s for underage drinking by Sheriff Lewis—stone cold. “Tell me you’re not Carys Burke-Lennan.”

The man takes no offense. His face creases into a smile. “No, Dr. Kensington, I’m not.”

“Good.”

“I’m her brother, Ward.”

She moves subtly closer, as if we weren’t already drawn together like two magnets.

“Dr. Kensington, what you saw that night isn’t what you thought.” Angie’s feather-soft voice captures both of our attention.

Completely lost as to the byplay, I watch as my mother holds out a hand. “Mr. Burke.”

He shakes it. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“For?”

His gaze slides over Angie’s smiling one. His lips curve. “For making me see what I should have long ago.”

Angie blushes before she picks up a tablet on her desk. “Let me text Carys and tell her we’re ready out here. Okay. Will everyone follow me? We’re going to gather in the conference room.”

Ward opens the heavy wood door, and we step across the threshold.

Within seconds of stepping to the other side, barely enough time to register the contrast of the warm, rich wood against the spacious glass, an attractive man stands and holds out his hand. “Hello. My name is David Lennan. I’m the senior paralegal here at LLF. Welcome.”

I take his hand first. “Call me Austyn, Mr. Lennan.”

“Please, make it David. We’re all on a first-name basis here.” He releases my hand and holds out his hand to my mother’s. “David.”

She hesitates briefly. “Paige.”

“Welcome, Paige. Carys is just wrapping up a call. We have everything set up in the conference room. We thought we might be more comfortable there instead of crowded in her office.” He gestures us forward.

Angie and Ward fall in step behind us as we all make our way into the bright space. If I didn’t know I was in a law office before, I’d know now by the highly polished mahogany table spread out before us like a land yacht and walls of built-in filing cabinets. My mother deliberately sits away from the folders neatly stacked at the head. I drop down next to her, not really comfortable because I can still register the fine tension in the room.

“Can I get either of you some coffee? We also have an espresso machine, so any sort of latte wouldn’t be a problem,” Angie offers.

“Regular coffee is fine for me. Black,” I pipe up, grateful for the surge of caffeine.

“I’d be grateful for some. With cream, if that’s not too much trouble.” Mama’s lips tip up slightly.

“None at all. Ward? David?” When both of them nod, she disappears, closing the door behind her.

David smiles at us. “Based on your website, Kensington, I understand you’re from Texas?”

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