Page 93 of Rules to Love By

Schiffer sighed.

“Except you could dance again. If you wanted.”

Schiffer glanced up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Maybe not the ballet. But still dance. People do, right? Dance even if they’re not professionals.”

Schiffer chuckled. “Did you miss the point of my story?”

“No.” Marcus pushed the errant hair off his face again. “I guess part of me was hoping you’d have some good reason for me doing one thing or the other, but I get it. I have to think it over, like I can think of anything else these days. I have to make my own decision and be okay with it.”

“Yes.” He drew the word out, like he was no longer sure himself of the point he’d been trying to make.

“Only nothing is ever really set in stone, is it? What you did then about not going back to the ballet doesn’t have to be what you do tomorrow about dancing in general. Just like what I decide today about the Egg Basket doesn’t have to be what I decide tomorrow about the entire industry.”

“Whatever you decide, Marcus, I have no doubt it will work out.”

“So long as I don’t end up in jail tomorrow.” He grinned, because it seemed more appropriate than dropping his head onto the desk and whimpering.

“You leave that problem to me for the time being. That’s what I get paid for. Though to be clear, even if they decide to charge you, there’s a lot left to happen before we worry about jail.”

“Right.” He paused in the act of pushing his hair aside for the millionth time, fingers caught in the curls. “You think they will?”

“As I said, leave it to me. These things can move very slowly, and you have to get on with things in the meantime. Try to put it out of your head for now. Live your life.”

“Right.” Like that was going to be as easy as just putting it out of his mind. He knew in his heart there shouldn’t be anything coming from Johnathan’s lies. But he also knew Johnathan. He wished he could be as confident as Schiffer seemed to be about the police and the vandalism and the outcome of it all.

“Do you want to go over your story one more time? Will that help?”

“I’m taking up all your time.” And his time was not cheap.

“Part of what I do is spend the time with people like you who need the time. I donate my efforts to Lucky’s foundation in an attempt to level a playing field that can be all uphill for those who can’t pay.”

“Are you an angel?” Marcus asked before he could censor himself.

“I’m just a lawyer. Who might be considering looking for a community dance program when I get home tonight.” He shrugged and opened his file folder again. “This isn’t a one-way street, Marcus. Don’t ever think I don’t get anything out of my job just because I’m not as rich as some other lawyers. I get to work with some of the most extraordinary people, and I would not change that for anything. Now.” He patted the papers in front of him. “Let’s do this. I’ll go over my notes, and you speak up if there’s a problem or anything missing, yes?”

Marcus nodded. “Thank you.” And the thanks went deeper than just another run-through of the legal mess he found himself in. He still didn’t know what he would do, but thinking about it felt less precarious than it had five minutes ago, and that had to mean something. He wasn’t sure what, but something.

“You’re very welcome.” Schiffer smiled at him, deeper, more genuine than a lawyer smiling at a client. He was here because he wanted to help, and that made Marcus want to be worthy of the help. Even pass it forward some day, if he could.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

The appearance of a mug on the counter in front of him alerted Eli to the fact someone was talking to him. He looked up to find Stephanie smiling at him.

“Lucky already doctored it how you like.” She pulled herself onto the stool next to him. “How you doing?”

“I’m fine.” He glanced to the still-closed door leading to the private back half of the house. He’d been trying to imagine how anxious Marcus might be. How angry it would make him to talk about Johnathan. How lonely, talking about Iris. “He’s been back there a long time.”

“Sometimes these things take a while.” She touched his hand. “And sometimes, no matter how much you want to, there’s really nothing you can do to help.”

He frowned at her. “Well, that’s shitty.”

She nodded. “Pretty shitty. Yeah.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the advice guru of the group or something?”

Her smile was radiant. “That is the best title. I definitely want to be that.”

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