Page 56 of Bonus Daddy
That tightness suddenly became uncomfortable. I hated the idea of letting Jess down, but her daughters too?
I folded my hands on my desk. “I’m trying. Your mom is my client, and I always work my hardest to help my clients.”
Kit zeroed in on me, her eyes narrowing. “That’s actually why we’re here.”
I leaned forward, head tilted, confused.
She dropped into the chair across from me and squared her shoulders, pinning me with a glare. “You need to stay away from our mom.”
I reeled back, caught off guard by her almost feral tone. I’d never known Kit to be anything but quiet and serious.
I looked over at Greta, who had her arms crossed.This interaction had gone south very quickly.
“I see the way you look at her.” Kit arched a brow, as if daring me to deny it.
“Um. I—” I shook my head, grasping for words that would make sense.
“You seem nice,” she said. “But I’m sure my dad seemed that way once too. And he’s not a good dude. He was mean to her and treated her badly, and we’re never gonna let that happen again.”
“Never,” Greta echoed.
Quickly, the fear that had hit me dissipated, and I was filled with pride. I smiled at the pint-sized piano prodigy and her little sister. They were good kids with protective hearts. And I understood. It took a lot of courage for them to come down here and talk to me. Yet they’d done it. They had stuck up for the person who meant the most to them. These kids were fighters, just like their mom.
Abandoned by their father and forced to grow up too fast, but they were on track to be just as incredible as Jess.
“Did you know I’m also an oldest child like you?” I asked Kit, steepling my fingers on top of my desk. “I’ve got a little sister, Dylan. She’s four years younger than I am. I also lost a parent.” I looked over at Greta. “My mom died when I was seven, and I always felt like I had to take care of my dad.”
Their eyes widened.
“So I know what it feels like to want to protect the people you care about. I understand why it feels like it’s your job. But it’s not. Your job is to be kids. To have fun. Your mom is an incredible woman who is doing an incredible job raising you both.”
Greta’s lips twitched in the smallest of smiles. Kit remained unreadable.
“And she doesn’t take any shit,” I added
Kit gasped, her eyes widening.
I cringed. “Don’t tell her I swore.”
Both girls giggled.
“I care about her,” I said, leaning forward. “She’s my client. And as a lawyer, it’s my sworn duty to help her. I would never hurt her.”
While Greta seemed relieved by my answer, Kit did not. If she had been younger or a little less jaded, she might have accepted it. But sadly, that was not the case.
“Do you babysit all your clients’ kids?” Kit folded her arms and stared at me.
My heart thudded. “Um. No.”
“Do you cook dinner for your clients? Or go to their yoga classes? Or watch their kids’ piano concerts?”
I shook my head. She had me there.
“So my mom’s not just a client, then.”
As I looked into her eyes, I traveled ahead in time to a moment when she’d be a composed, confident adult. It was incredibly easy to envision. “You are so much like your mom.”
Her face fell.
