Page 45 of Bonus Daddy
Jess ducked her head, averting her gaze. “I’m so glad he’s still a knight in shining armor.”
I watched her, silently begging for her attention, and when she locked eyes with me, that tug returned, the need to touch her and be closer to her.
But she was my client. That thought was like a bucket of ice water. So I broke the connection and used my napkin to wipe at the table.
I’d missed this. The ease I felt around her, the way she made every moment feel more fun and vibrant. I’d missed her.
But for now, at least, I couldn’t do anything about it.
“You must have some good law school stories,” she urged Sully.
“So many.” He grunted a sound that might have been a laugh. “Including during our first year of law school, when he got a parking ticket, then wrote an eleven-page legal brief and showed up to traffic court to defend himself.”
I smiled at the memory. I had been high on justice back then.
“He got up and gave this sweeping argument, citing a precedent that dated back to the eighteen hundreds, before cars were even invented, and argued his constitutional rights were being infringed. Dude thought he was Clarence Darrow.”
“Classic Brian,” Cal said, shaking his head.
“Did you get out of the ticket?” Jess asked.
I shook my head. “Judge still made me pay, but he offered me an internship.”
After we’d paid the tab—Cal stealing the check off the tableand insisting he’d cover it—we wandered back down to the parking ramp, our group a little less boisterous than before. Cal and Sully carried their sleepy sons, and Jess and I lagged behind with her daughters.
The night was warm, but the breeze was cool. It was the kind of evening that made me miss the city. In a few months, we’d be back here, our Jersey City experiment concluded. Since the moment we’d been given the details of Terry’s trust and understood that we’d have to rough it in the rundown building where he’d started the firm, I’d been desperate to get back, but suddenly, the thought made my chest constrict.
Coming back meant returning to my home and my office with the incredible view of Manhattan. My oversized fish tank, which I’d been assured was being well-maintained by associates.
But suddenly, when I considered leaving Jersey, apprehension slithered through my veins. In the last nine months or so, Cal and Lo had found one another, and Sully and Sloane had worked things out and were more in love than ever. The firm was thriving, both in Jersey and in the city. I didn’t want to lose a moment of the closeness this family of mine had gained. Or the little time I had with Jess.
Come August, we’d be moving back to the city, and the hope was that she’d be headed to Vermont.
The thought made me want to throw up.
When we reached her car. Kit threw her arms around me, startling me. “Thank you, Brian.”
Jess stood behind her, beaming.
“You were incredible, kid,” I said as I hugged her in return. “Can’t wait for your next performance.”
I waited until the three of them had loaded up and were heading toward the exit before dragging myself to Sully’s SUV. In the passenger seat, I stared out at the world passing by, trying to process all that had happened tonight.
I’d come here to support Kit and Jess. But now, at the end of the night, I felt like I’d been accepted into the fold. Like I suddenly belonged to something I didn’t even know I was missing.
Chapter 16
Jess
“Do you have a minute?” I asked, peeking my head around the door. Brian was at his desk, collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up, looking delicious, typing furiously with a pencil clenched between his teeth.
The pure focus in his eyes washot.
“I was hoping we could walk through the documents you sent me,” I hedged.
He nodded, and I quietly settled in a guest chair, admiring the achievement that was this office. Despite the ancient, dingy gold carpet and the flickering fluorescent lights, it was so organized it was practically sterile. Shelves full of law books with spines perfectly aligned dominated one wall, and the small window let in a decent amount of sunlight. His desk was bare, save for the two computer monitors and a small leather cup that held pens. On the wall behind his chair hung fancy diplomas in museum-quality frames. It smelled like printer toner and coffee. Only Brian could elevate a decaying seventies-style office in Jersey to his Manhattan standards.
As I flipped through the stack of papers, he stood and stretched, looking more disheveled than I’d seen him since our college days. He was just as adorable like this as he’d been back then. Though even now, disheveled may have been a strong term. For him, it meant anopen collar and rolled-up sleeves, his hair a bit messy, like he’d run his fingers through it. Even like this, he could have been on a Times Square billboard selling fancy watches.
