Page 43 of Falling Hard for the Billionaire Cowboy

Of course, I'm happy.

It's exhilarating just thinking about how quickly everything is changing.

The cases I'm dealing with are a far cry from what I used to do back in the city. But – I don't hate it.

As soon as the time hits 8:00 am, a new client Stella, age 84, walks in. She shuffles into my office, her hands clutching a bundle of papers.

"My dear," she says, settling into the chair across from me, "I need help with my will. My children are squabbling over who gets what, and I want to make sure everything's fair and square."

I lean forward, all business. "Of course, ma'am. Let's go through your assets and your wishes for each of your children."

As we discuss her estate, I can't help but feel a sense of purpose. This is why I became a lawyer - to help people navigate the complexities of the legal system.

So that they won't fall victim just like my grandmother did before she passed.

"We can do it like this," I explain slowly, making sure she understands every term I'm saying.

The next clients are the Petersons, a middle-aged couple in the midst of a land dispute with their neighbor.

"He claims the fence is on his property," Mr. Peterson fumes, his face red with anger. "But my grandfather built that fence sixty years ago!"

I nod sympathetically. "I understand, Mr. Peterson. We'll need to look at the property records and possibly get a survey done. I'll file the necessary paperwork to start the process."

As the days pass, I find myself handling everything from minor traffic violations to small business contracts. Each case might look minor, but to each and every one of my clients, it's important. And they have chosen me.

That's something I'm not planning on forgetting.

That afternoon, as I'm preparing to file a case at the county courthouse, I see Mrs. Beatrice.

"Oh, Hayley dear!" she exclaims, her eyes lighting up when she sees me. "I hear your business is booming! Such a lovely thing to see a young woman making her way in the world."

I smile politely, trying to edge past her. "Thank you, Mrs. Beatrice. It's been busy, but I'm enjoying the work."

She leans in as if to tell me a big secret. "You know, I had the most interesting guest the other day. Apparently, Austin has been singing your praises all over town, telling everyone about your law firm, and encouraging folks to give you a chance. Isn't that sweet of him?"

My heart skips a beat.Austin? He's been helping me?

My heart begins to race as I try to gather my thoughts.

Now it all makes sense how the sudden influx of clients had doubled.

"Thank you for telling me," I manage to stammer out a thank you to Mrs. Beatrice before hurrying into the courthouse, my mind reeling.

At first, I'm angry. I mean… I could find my clients myself. I am capable of doing that.

But truthfully, I'm grateful. Although he had kept it hidden, his involvement had spread the word around, and now I have clients and cases to work on.

That night, as I stare at the ceiling, I make a decision. I need to thank Austin properly for his help.

But what can I do without making it all weird?

I mean… should I just go to the main house to tell him I appreciate his help?

It seems a bit lacking, to be honest.

Dinner, I think. I'll invite him to dinner.

The next evening, I find myself standing on the porch of the main residence, my heart pounding. I can hear dogs barking inside as I knock on the door. There's a moment of silence, then the sound of boots on hardwood.

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