Page 24

“The Gun?” Stewart said like he knew what we were talking about.

“Yes! She hates Mommy. Imagine if you got her to take over and contest Mommy’s bullshit, Dad.”

“Gun Larsen is way out of my league. I’d have to sell this house and then raise a few million to get her to even agree to a meeting. It’s not like she takes on random divorce settlements, let alone custody battles that have already been fought and lost.”

I knew how negative I sounded, and the shame in realising what I’d become was crippling.

“When did you just give up, Dad?” My daughter stared at me in anger and disbelief and shook her head. “I’m going upstairs.”

She slammed the door on her way, exactly as I’d expected her to do.

“She’s smart,” Stewart said, both of us looking up at the ceiling as she stomped around above us. “I’m so pleased I got to meet her.”

“She’s right,” I whimpered. “I gave up. I’m a chicken. And I don’t know how to make this in any way better.”

“Gun Larsen,” he said, leaning back on the kitchen counter. “The Gun. Quite the legend.”

“She’s magnificent in a courtroom. Terrifying outside of it.” I shuddered. “But she doesn’t take calls. She comes to you if she wants to take you on.”

Stewart laughed. “Excuses.”

“You have no idea,” I said brusquely. “People like The Gun are not the kind of people you just approach and ask to represent you.”

“Let me see what I can do,” he said with a wink.

“Come on,” I whined. “This is ridiculous.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He laughed. “Now, are you going to walk your daughter back to the Wallace, or would you like me to drive her? Not sure she should get in a car with a strange man. She’s only, what? Fifteen?”

“Sixteen,” she said, bumbling back into the room, carrying an armful of items, a bag slung over her shoulder. “In three weeks, in case you’d forgotten.”

“Constance, I—”

“I know you’re broke, Dad, and that Mommy would throw a hissy fit if she knew I’d seen you. I also know that I’ll have no problems smuggling this stuff back to the boys because Mommy has no clue what’s actually in our rooms. But seriously, we need out. The boys are becoming idiots raised by nannies, and I am struggling. Majorly.”

I could have said those words myself. I was struggling. Everywhere with everything.

“Then we’ll have to think of something,” Stewart said, thank God, because I had totally lost the ability to speak.

9. Stewart

Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Absolutely, and I had to confess that to Reuben and Gray over a video call, where they both shook their heads and laughed at me.

“So this lawyer woman is a legend and the most unapproachable woman on earth, and you have her number?”

“She smokes cigars—very particular cigars. I used to order them. All under the table, of course. Whenever shestayed at the hotel, I would ensure I had stock, and she always rewarded me handsomely.”

“You criminal, you.”

“Actually not.” I laughed. “I bought them from a licensed importer—nice guy—and I made sure I took a minimal profit. Wasn’t ripping anyone off.”

“Just the fine establishment you worked for,” Reuben pointed out. “I remember your antics, Dad. And Luiz had a coke supplier, and I’m not talking about soft drinks. I would bring in the weed, until you put a stop to that one.”

“Reuben.” I sighed. “Anyway, when are you back?” I wanted to change the subject, not drag up the past. I suddenly understood Dylan’s constant look of being triggered whenever I mentioned the kids. My son. Gray. Family. I didn’t want to talk about the dark times when I was carted away from my job overnight, not even getting a chance to say goodbye.

Brutal. The world was brutal.

“Couple more weeks is my guess. Then we’ll have to come back for the reshoots, and after that, we’ll have a break before the promo tour. I have that sitcom to film in October, and after that…” Gray scratched his head. “Reuben has signed up to sit his first maths exam in September, so we’ll definitely be back for that.”