Page 6 of It's the Worst Time of the Year

I thought I’d made peace with how things ended. She made her choice, and so had I. We’d said our goodbyes and moved on—or so I thought.

But seeing her again, even from across the room, had stirred something that frankly I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

This case was supposed to be simple. Just another client, another problem to solve, and another win under my belt. But now, with Bailey in the picture, nothing felt simple anymore.

Chapter Three

BAILEY

My phone buzzed loudly, jolting me out of a restless sleep filled with disjointed dreams of courtroom dramas and talking cats wearing Santa hats. I groaned, blindly reaching out to silence the intrusive noise. My fingers fumbled across the cluttered nightstand, knocking over an empty coffee mug and yesterday's copy of theWintervale Gazettebefore finally grasping the vibrating device.

The harsh glow of the screen pierced my bleary eyes, making me wince as I tried to focus. Squinting against the brightness, I saw the notification that made my heart skip a beat and then hammer uncomfortably in my chest…

Jacob Wilder.

For a long, bewildered moment, I just stared at the name, half-convinced I was still dreaming. Jacob and I hadn't spoken directly in years—not since that summer after high school graduation when everything went sideways. Yet here he was, his name lighting up my phone screen as if we were old friends casually texting on a Monday morning.

I hesitated before opening the message, a knot forming in my stomach. Memories flooded back—late-night study sessions at the 24-hour diner, the way his eyes could barely meet mine when he’d asked me to the Homecoming dance, our first kiss under the bleachers after our team won the game. Shaking off the unwanted nostalgia, I tapped the message.

Jacob:Bailey, let's arrange a meeting with our clients today. Noon at Barrington Manor. Theodore and I think it's best if we discuss options to settle this matter outside of court. I'm confident we can convince Edna to drop her claim—it's in the best interest of the town.

I read the message twice, each word fueling a simmering irritation that chased away any lingering grogginess. No “Hello, Bailey, I hope all is well,” or “How’s the family?” Any sentimentality I’d been feeling was quickly replaced with what I considered righteous anger. Convince Edna to drop her claim? The audacity was almost laughable. I could practically hear his smooth, condescending tone, as if he were explaining something obvious to a particularly slow student.

Rolling my eyes so hard it hurt, I tossed the phone onto the bedspread and flopped back against the pillows, the cool sheets doing little to dampen the heat rising in my cheeks. Who did Jacob think he was? Waltzing back into my life with a curt text and a presumptuous plan.

I snatched the phone back up, my thumbs flying over the keyboard as I crafted a response dripping with professional sarcasm.

Me:Jacob, I'd be happy to oversee a meeting to ensure my client isn't railroaded into doing something she doesn't want todo. And frankly, I don't see how you, of all people, would know what's best for Wintervale. A cat sanctuary may be exactly what this town needs, in fact.

Satisfied, I hit send with a decisive tap, imagining the look on his face when he read it. Probably that same infuriating smirk he always had when he thought he was right. Despite myself, a small grin tugged at my lips at the idea of beating him at his own game.

I glanced at the clock—7:15 am…Plenty of time before the proposed meeting to get my thoughts in order and brace myself for whatever today would bring. Not that I needed bracing. Jacob Wilder was just another opposing counsel. A particularly irritating one with a penchant for underestimating me, obviously, but nothing I couldn't handle.

My phone buzzed again, pulling me back to the present. His reply was swift, almost as if he'd been waiting.

Jacob:If you plan to try this case in court, you'll need actual proof that Edna is the rightful heir. Do you have that, or are you bluffing?

I clenched my jaw as a mix of annoyance and unease settled in my gut. Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong. Edna's claim to Barrington Manor was based on little more than family lore and a few faded letters she insisted existed but had yet to produce. It was a shaky case, but it was all we had.

But there was no way I was admitting that to Jacob.

Me:I have proof

The words I typed back felt like tiny betrayals as I sent them off.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cold hardwood floor sending a chill up my spine. Stretching, I tried to shake off the lingering doubts. Focus, Bailey. This was just another case, another challenge to overcome. And if Jacob thought he could intimidate me, he had another thing coming. Obviously, what we’d once had was long gone, and I’d push the memories out of my mind if I had to bulldoze them myself.

My phone buzzed again.

Jacob:Fine. Then we'll meet at the property at noon.

No sign-off, no pleasantries. Classic Jacob. Always direct, always in control. Well, two could play at that game.

I didn't bother replying. Instead, I headed to the shower, letting the hot water wash over me. Steam filled the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror and cocooning me in warmth. As I lathered shampoo into my hair, I ran through possible strategies in my mind.

Edna Twinkleberry was...eccentric, to put it mildly. Her vision for transforming Barrington Manor into a holiday-themed cat sanctuary was certainly unique, but who was I to judge? Wintervale thrived on its quirky charm, and maybe this really was exactly the kind of attraction that would help put the little town back on the map.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and wiped a circle clear on the mirror. My reflection stared back—hazel eyes determined, chestnut hair curling damply around my face. I could do this.

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