Page 60 of Atlas
Anthony: You work with her all day. Evenings should be for me, Anita. We discussed this.
Me: Sorry. I won’t be out long. I’ll call at yours after?
Three dots appear then disappear. Then, nothing.
A chill slides through me, settling low in my stomach. I tuck my phone face-down on the table and scan the bar again. Tom’slate. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I shouldn’t be here at all, if I’m honest. I should’ve met him in his office, kept it professional.
But I said yes because something in his voice made me believe he could do this. That maybe, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t completely screwed.
When the door swings open, I spot him instantly. He doesn’t walk in like he owns the place, but people notice him anyway. There’s something in the set of his jaw, the way his eyes take everything in. He’s not handsome in a polished way—he’s too blunt around the edges for that—but he’s magnetic.
And he looks like someone who doesn’t lose.
Tom spots me and gives a nod. No smile, just calm, unflinching focus as he strides towards me and shrugs off his coat.
“You alright?” he asks before he’s even fully sat down.
I nod too quickly. “Fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch. My usual mask, smoothed out and fixed tight, is slipping. Anthony’s message still echoes in the back of my head, the way it always does. Every compliment laced with suspicion. Every silence sharp enough to draw blood.
Tom watches me. Not the way other men do. Not like he’s weighing me up or peeling me apart. He just . . . waits.
I glance at the menu, just for something to do. “Thanks for meeting like this. I didn’t want to bring the notes to your office. It felt too formal.”
He doesn’t buy it. “You get spooked easily?”
I meet his eyes. “Not usually.”
He leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “But tonight, you are.”
The honesty hangs between us. Thick. Undeniable. I press my lips together and shake my head. “I don’t talk about my personal life.”
“Isn’t that why we’re here?”
A smile pulls at my lips. “Yes.”
He takes the folder from his bag and taps it. “Your ex, Damien, I’ve come up against him before. Smart, sure, but cruel. Petty. He wins because he knows how to tear people down before they even step foot in the courtroom.”
I nod once, trying to swallow past the lump rising in my throat. “I’m not scared of him,” I say, my voice too tight to be convincing.
Tom just watches me. “You should be. That’s what makes men like him dangerous.”
I look away. My chest aches, not from what he’s said, but from how true it all is.
“I can’t lose my son,” I whisper. It’s the smallest I’ve ever felt. “Leo deserves better than Damien. He’ll mess him up, make him a carbon copy. I can’t let that happen.”
Tom’s jaw ticks. “We’re not going to let it.”
I breathe in deeply, steadying myself. “Anthony—” I stop, biting back the name before I can explain.
“The judge you’re dating?” I glance at him sharply. “Rumours,” he says with a shrug. “The court clerks love to gossip.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “It’s not like that.”
The silence that follows is heavier than before. Then Tom leans back in his chair and says simply, “You don’t need him.” I look up, startled. “You think you do because the system is stacked and you’re tired and you think he holds more power than Damien. He doesn’t. He can’t help you. Don’t waste your time.”
