Page 29 of Unconditionally With Me
From the back seat, the building is impressive. We both slide out to get a better look. The seven-story building located in Capitol Hill, not far from where we enjoyed ourselves yesterday at Pike Place Market, is, Elle quotes, “Permitted as a multi-use building with twenty-four apartments, five ground-floor live/work apartments with walk-out access, and over 900 square feet of retail space.”
“It’s beautiful.” I hate to admit it. I kind of wanted Elle to inherit an awful piece of property so there would be no choice, but this has to be her decision. Her choice.
And I’m going to be standing behind her as she makes it.
She nods, taking in the grandness of the space before she says, “We’d better head to Mr. Pritchley’s office.”
“Right.” Without another word, we get back into the SUV, and Elle provides the address for the lawyer.
Just a few moments later, we pull up at a similar building just a few steps from the Starbucks Reserve Roastery. I slide out first, reaching back in to help Elle, before informing the driver, “We’ll call for a ride back.”
“Yes, sir. Ma’am. Have a nice day. It’s a rare one here in Seattle. Blue skies.”
I don’t want to tell him it’s going to be a day in hell, but why dampen his enthusiasm.
* * *
A few moments later,we’re being escorted into the office of probate attorney Robin Pritchley III. It’s a massive corner one with huge floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the street below.
“Mr. Pritchley will be with you both in just a moment. May I get you some coffee?”
“Just water,” Elle says.
“Same,” I concur.
The receptionist walks over to a minibar and pulls out a few bottles before handing us each one. “Again, he’s just finishing up with another client. We appreciate your patience.”
After we’re left alone in the room, Elle wanders over to the windows. “This is why I work in a windowless kitchen. I’d never be able to get anything done.”
I bark out a laugh before setting my water down on a table on my way to her. “I know what you mean. The distraction factor would be pretty high.”
“What did you think about the building?” She faces me.
I can’t lie to her. “It was pretty fantastic if you’re looking to be here full-time. But Elle, trying to manage something like that—from New York—is a pretty big deal.”
She nods, as if I’ve pretty much confirmed her thoughts when there’s a knock at the door. A bald man with a gray goatee enters. “Eleanor? I’m Rob Pritchley. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He strides across the room, his hand extended.
But Elle’s frozen, her face pasty white like she’s seen a ghost. Her gaze is locked on something beyond Pritchley. I follow her line of sight as a tall blond-haired man closes the door. He’s dressed much like we are in jackets and dressy jeans. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his face both sad and remorseful.
It’s the expression that tells me who he is.
It’s her ex, Erik.
“Hello, Elle.”
“Why are you here?” Her tone is nothing but a rasp of its normal sound. I can’t tell if it’s pain or fury that just slammed into her. I take a step forward, ready to defend Elle.
But like he can control me, Erik holds up a hand to stop me—as if anything could if I really wanted to hurt him the way he’s managed to inflict untold damage to the two women in my family’s life. “Before you decide to tear me limb from limb”—part of me relaxes at that even as I hate he can read her—“I’d like an opportunity to speak with you.”
Before I can say a word, Elle finds her fortitude. “Julian stays.” Her hand slips beneath my arm, linking us.
Together.
I draw in a rough breath and rein in my emotions to let hers take the forefront. Because Elle is all that matters.
The other man nods. “That’s fine, since what I have to say impacts him as well.”
Pritchley lets out a sigh of relief, likely recognizing there could have been bloodshed, before gesturing to the conference table at the far side of his well-appointed office. “What Mr. Rappo has to say won’t take long.”
