Page 25 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer (Goose Run #1)

MILLER

M y working week got off to a bad start when I arrived at the office only to be met by a wheezing, slobbering Alexander Hamilton.

“Hey, bro,” Marty said and waved at me from behind the reception desk.

“I’m not your bro, Marty,” I said. “We talked about professionalism, remember?”

“Oh, totes,” he said. “Anyway, bro, Ms. Missy Thurston-Wallace is in your office.” He got a faraway look on his face. And given how far away he usually was, that was saying something. “Ms. Missy. Ms. Missy. Mzzzzzz.”

I wondered if it would be rude to ask if he’d taken his meds. Then I decided I wasn’t invested enough to care, not with a pug snorting and wheezing and drooling on my shoes. “Bring me Missy’s file and a coffee when you get the chance, please.”

I knew he likely wouldn’t remember, but it turned out I was an optimist.

I drew a deep breath and walked down the hallway to my office. When I opened the door, Missy was already seated. “Good morning, Ms. Thurston-Wallace,” I said cautiously. “Did we have an appointment?”

“Oh, Miller!” she gushed, her eyes bright with excitement. “I have the most amazing news!”

I took in her bright smile, her freshly manicured nails, and the shiny new diamond ring on her finger, and I knew what was coming even before she said it. “Chad and I are getting back together!”

I plastered a bright smile on my face. “Well, that’s good news. Congratulations.”

Was that the right thing to say? What was the correct response for I’m glad you and your awful husband aren’t going to be released back into the dating population ?

Were any of Elizabeth Taylor’s lawyers still alive? They’d probably know.

Missy beamed at me. “Chad and I ran into each other, and he just looked so handsome, and we had a few drinks, and one thing led to another, and, well. You know.”

I did know. I wished I didn’t, but the memory of Missy’s sex tape was still alive and well and residing in the back of my brain, ready to assault me when I was least expecting it.

“Anyway,” Missy continued, “Chad put in a stellar performance, and afterwards he said that divorce was just so messy that he’d prefer we didn’t, and that we’re really the victims here because we’re both so incredibly attractive that it’s really hard for us not to commit adultery.

And then he said that the real villain in all of this is you lawyers, who are bleeding us dry with your fees. No offense.”

Full fucking offense taken, actually.

“I see,” I said.

“So you can just make it all stop, right?” Missy said, looking at me expectantly.

I stared at her. “Ms. Thurston-Wallace, you do understand that once divorce proceedings are started, there’s a considerable amount of paperwork involved in reversing that process?”

She waved a hand. “That’s your job. Can’t I just… sign?”

Missy and Chad really did deserve each other. I said, “I can’t actually do anything until Chad also instructs his lawyer. When is that likely to happen?”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Chad’s very busy, Miller. He can’t just go running off to his lawyer at the drop of a hat. But say, sometime this week?”

I took a deep, calming breath. “Let me go and get your file, and I’ll see where we are.”

Technically it was possible to reverse a divorce in Virginia, but it came down to what paperwork had been filed.

Since Missy and Chad were still hashing out a settlement, I was pretty sure we’d be able to stop proceedings, but I wanted to be sure before I promised anything.

And of course Marty hadn’t brought me the file.

I opened the door and stepped out, and my foot connected with something firm and round. A high-pitched yelp echoed through the office as I stumbled over Missy’s fucking pug that was lying sprawled across the office doorway.

Marty appeared around the corner, eyes wide, and rushed forward to scoop the dog up. “Oh my god, are you all right, Alexander Hamilton?” He cradled the pug in his arms, stroking it gently, and shot me a death glare. “I can’t believe you just kicked a dog, bro. That’s so harsh!”

“I didn’t kick him! I tripped. And weren’t you meant to be looking after him?”

Alexander Hamilton let out a loud whine, and Marty’s stare intensified.

Then Missy came rushing out. “What happened? Where’s my baby?” She grabbed the pug from Marty’s arms, running a hand down his spine and then checking all his paws, just in case one had fallen off or something, I guessed.

I opened my mouth to apologize, then closed it again. It would be just my luck that Missy would take an apology as an admission of guilt and sue me, probably with Marty representing her.

When in doubt, keep your mouth shut.

So I stayed quiet while Missy and Marty stood there fussing over the dog. Marty produced a dog chew from the pocket of his cargo shorts, which had Alexander making a miraculous recovery as he slobbered around the treat. “He seems fine,” Marty said dubiously.

Missy clutched the pug to her chest. “Alexander Hamilton and I are leaving before he’s assaulted again. Once you’ve undivorced me, you can deposit the funds to my account.”

I stared at her dumbly, my brain still caught up on being accused of assaulting her dog—and for the record, I did feel bad about kicking him. “Sorry, what funds?”

“The refund of my legal fees, obviously. I assume I’ll get that money back.”

This was, without a doubt, the most batshit crazy take I’d ever heard. And I’d met the mayor of Goose Run.

“Why… why would you think that?” I asked, against my better judgment.

Missy heaved a dramatic sigh. “I came here for a divorce. And since I don’t see a divorce, then I didn’t get what I paid for. So obviously I’m entitled to my money back.” She let out a high-pitched titter. “Oh, Miller. Everybody knows how return policies work.”

Was there a polite way to say, are you fucking kidding me?

It turned out if there was, I didn’t need to know because Marty got there first.

He snorted and said, “Are you fucking kidding me, bro? You’re paying for billable hours, not the end result. If you think you’re getting a refund, you’re out of your tiny mind.”

Seeing the shocked expression on Missy’s face almost made up for watching her sex tape. Almost. I couldn’t tell if she was more offended by Marty cursing, telling her she was out of her mind, or calling her “bro.” Probably all three.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer about this!” she said. I guessed it was the first thing she could think of to say.

“Missy,” I said slowly, “I am your lawyer.”

She faltered at that, a crease appearing between her perfect brows. “Oh.”

“Oh,” I repeated drily. “Please trust me when I say you won’t be getting a refund for services rendered. In fact, you’ll probably get another bill for the reversal of the divorce proceedings.”

“Chad was right,” she said. “You’re just money hungry scum !” And with that she tossed her hair over her shoulder and swept out of the office, pug firmly wedged under her arm, in a flounce that would have made Miss Piggy proud.

Marty and I stared after her, and it was Marty who spoke first. “What in the deep-fried fuck , bro?”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

We probably would have stood there for a while longer except the phone rang, startling Marty enough that he flailed and elbowed me in the chest before going to answer the call.

While he was on the phone, I went and retrieved Missy’s file and took it back to my office. It seemed like a reversal would be fairly quick and painless—well, painless if you didn’t count having to see Missy again. Still, at least she’d stop hitting on me now.

I set the paperwork aside. I wasn’t starting anything until I heard from Chad’s lawyer, and frankly I didn’t trust Missy not to seduce the pool boy before lunch.

In the meantime I checked on the status of Danny’s case. A demand letter had been sent to his neighbor and he should have received it by now, but I hadn’t talked to Danny to find out if there had been any pushback.

I hadn’t talked to Danny all weekend—and I’d missed him more than I’d expected.

It was always a good time catching up with my family, but more than once I’d found myself wishing Danny was there so I could share a smile and a joke with him and introduce him to my family. I got the feeling he would have fit right in.

Of course, when my mom asked if I was seeing anybody, I’d dodged the question with my usual line about focusing on my career. But just for a moment, I’d been tempted to tell her that for once, there was someone.

And I’d found myself wondering for the first time if maybe this thing wasn’t quite as casual as I’d thought.

Danny had texted me on Sunday afternoon to see when I’d be home, and I’d been more pleased than I wanted to admit when his name had flashed on the screen.

When I’d told him I was only just leaving Richmond and I’d be back late, he’d texted back telling me to drive safe and to let him know when I wanted to catch up.

He’d added a kissing emoji, which had put a smile on my face for the entire drive home.

I picked up the phone and called his number without thinking twice, and he picked up on the third ring.

“Hey!” he said breathlessly.

“Hey. I thought we could?—”

“Can I call you back?” he interrupted. “I’m in a situation right now.”

Panic tightened my chest as I immediately imagined a robbery or a gas leak.

It was almost a relief when seconds later I heard loud, angry honking in the background and work boots clattering over concrete.

Whatever was going on, Danny was running.

“Get that thing the fuck away from me!” he shouted, and I was pretty sure he wasn’t talking to me.

There was another honk, louder this time, and the line went dead.

I laughed at the crazy mental image of Danny getting chased by that fucking goose, and then I felt bad. That goose was terrifying.

I sent a message to check he was okay and waited more anxiously than I wanted to admit before I got the reply.

Yeah.

And then:

Fucking goose.