Page 1 of Already At Risk
six months ago
NATALIE
I was always envious—and happy for—women who emerged from a divorce and had that group of friends who took them out to celebrate, forced them to get back out there, made them a cake that saidhe wasn’t good in bed anywayor something.
At this moment, in particular, I was wishing I had a larger social circle than my best friend who lived across the country, my nine-year-old daughter, my coworkers who saw my face enough when we were clocked in at the hospital, and, of course, my brothers.
In other words, I wished I hadanykind of social circle.
Instead, it was just me and a little black dress against the world tonight. I’d almost talked myself out of this ten times, but it had been one year to the date since I’d filed for divorce, and that deserved commemoration, right?
I strode into the divey Irish pub, sliding onto a barstool with more confidence than I felt.
One drink—I’d just have one drink to honor the occasion, and then I’d head home.
“What can I get you?”
The bartender threw a coaster down in front of me, ready to place something on it.
“Whatever it is she wants, I’m paying for it,” a deep voice cut in.
“Oh, that’s?—”
I turned to my right, where a man had suddenly appeared.
Ahandsomeman, who grinned at me, his expression both soft and teasing. There was something about the combination of dimples and a jawline that could cut through the hardest exteriors.
Myexterior.
“Okay,” I finished.
“Yeah?” he prompted, like he knew exactly what had just happened. “It’s okay?”
I sucked in a breath and shook my head. “I don’t need you to buy me a drink. You’re welcome to sit there, though.”
He chuckled. “Thank you for the permission. I’m Cam.”
CHAPTER ONE
cameron
ICOULD THINK OF a million moments when I’d wished I could pick up the phone and call my dad, but this one had to be at the top.
So many years had passed since I’d heard his voice, but I tried to imagine it: that bit of rasp and deep timbre. There’d be hearty laughter, jovial congratulations. He had this way of making everything seem like a big deal, even when it was a small one. I’d spend entire summer baseball seasons barely making it to first base, and he’d hype me up like I was the star of the Little League show, even when I was shit.
But thisactuallyfelt like a big deal.
Or, it was certainly on itswayto being a big deal. Something Dad would appreciate, anyway.
All I’d ever really wanted was to be like him, to fill the shoes he’d left behind. And what Daphne Gardner just told me…it felt like the closest I’d ever come to fitting into them.
I was going to be the youngest junior partner at Gardner Law.
God, that thought felt good.Reallygood.
There were only two bitter parts about it. One, that I couldn’t share it with the one person I really wanted to, and two, it wasn’t a sure thing. Yet.
But I was only a case or two away from making it happen; that was what Daphne had just insinuated in our meeting, when she’d started by asking if junior partner was something that interested me, that twinkle in her eye because she knew the answer. I kept replaying the conversation in my head as I walked out of her palatial office, with its towering bookshelves and boxy Styrofoam couches. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.
