Page 1 of Bonus Daddy
Chapter 1
Jess
This couldn’t be it. The dilapidated brick building with crumbling stairs, weeds in the alley, and a glowing neon sign advertising psychic readings could not be my new lawyer’s office.
I walked further down the street, past a yummy-smelling kebab shop, and turned around to make sure I hadn’t missed the correct building, finding no hidden structure.
With a sigh, I smoothed down my pink floral skirt, second-guessing the choice. The weather was glorious. The sun was shining and a light breeze blew the damp garbage smell of Jersey City toward the river and away from my nostrils.
I had a few black pieces left from my days as Kenneth’s wife, but the thought of putting one on made my stomach ache. For the past few years, I’d been devoted to finding and reclaiming myself. So I’d reached for the pink dress and I hadn’t looked back. Until now.
Since I didn’t work at the hospital on Wednesdays, I typically walked the girls to school, then I’d run errands and clean the house before teaching an afternoon yoga class. And I always made a point to cook on Wednesday nights. This afternoon, I’d prepped a lasagna—Greta’s favorite—and I couldn’t wait to surprise her with it. If I made it home from this meeting…
I looked at the shabby buildings surrounding me, trying to figure out where I’d gotten lost. All the fancy high-rises, the banks and lawfirms and insurance companies, were near the Hudson River. This neighborhood was… not that.
Double checking my phone and confirming I was at the right place, I took a deep breath. Appearances could be deceiving, and my intuition was telling me this would be a good meeting.
I never imagined I’d find my legal representation in my yoga studio, yet here I was. As I took in the sights, enjoying the warm breeze, I realized how much I’d miss the city noises when we moved to Vermont. Getting rid of that dumb McMansion in the ’burbs was like having an enormous malignant tumor removed. Putting space between myself and those memories was healing, and now that we lived in Jersey City, I hardly needed to drive. Everything I needed was walkable, and on nice spring days, it was downright blissful.
Soon we’d have the Green Mountains in our backyard and we’d be inhaling air that smelled like maple syrup rather than hot garbage. My kids would run wild on the farm my siblings and I had. I could close the book on the heartache and strife of the past four years.
But first, I needed a good lawyer. I had to start the inevitably expensive and frustrating legal process of moving out of New Jersey.
The legal process was called relocation, but it was so much more complex than the single word made it seem. Already, several attorneys had turned me down, citing a low likelihood of success. But I was a positive person, and I wholeheartedly believed that I’d be granted permission to move my children to my hometown.
Lo and her boyfriend had become regulars in my yoga classes over the last few months and had even begun to feel like friends. They were kind and helpful and intelligent. So when they told me one of the partners at their law firm handled complex relocation, I jumped at the chance to meet him.
As I shuffled up to the partially rusted steel door, I spied a small sign that readMurphy and Machon. I paused, hit by a warm familiarity.Weird.
I stepped inside, unsure of whether I’d find a fancy law firm or acrime scene and was a bit concerned when the space was, oddly enough, a bit of both.
Shiny leather chairs sat on top of vomit colored linoleum, and the cracks in the ceiling were too numerous to count.
Lo was so put together, so sharp and smart. Did she actually work here? This was the best family law firm in the city?
“Hello, Yoga Jess.” I heard Cal’s posh British accent before he came around the corner to greet me, his arms held wide. “Delighted to see you here.”
He was wearing the kind of suit that cost more than my car, again making me question what the hell he was doing in a place like this.
Lo appeared a moment later, her gorgeous red hair pulled back into a braid. “Jess,” she said cheerfully, her hands full of files, “let me put these down and I’ll get you situated. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
I shook my head, still studying my surroundings. This simply didn’t add up.
“This way,” she said.
I followed her down a musty corridor, squinting against the flickering of the fluorescent lights.
Another tall, dark, and handsome man appeared in a doorway. “This is my brother Sully,” Cal said brightly. “He could really use one of your restorative classes. Might help dislodge that stick up his bum.”
His brother stared at me, his gray-blue eyes intense. It was a bit unnerving. While he was as good looking as Cal, he gave off a real serial killer vibe.
“Sullivan Murphy,” he said gruffly, still studying me.
Lo tipped her head, signaling that we hadn’t reached our destination yet, and I followed. Behind me, Sully stepped out into the hall. He spoke to his brother, his low words unintelligible, though it felt an awful lot like they were about me.
Lo stopped at a large door, where I couldn’t help but notice a suspicious brown stain on the faded commercial carpet.
“Don’t look at that,” she said, waving me inside. “We can’t tell if it was a leaky pipe or Sebastian’s remains.”
