Page 21

For Mia Clark, it's one of those happy days where nothing around her matters because her brother is with her and they can share the entire weekend together. As usual, they hug tightly when they meet. Aaron has prepared a backpack separate from the one he usually takes to school, with a couple changes of clothes. They climb into Mia's car and head to Walker Elite Sport Club as they do every time the caddie gets to be with her brother. She knows how much Aaron enjoys being there, talking with Leah and how good the affection from Anna and Natalie is for him.

"Do you think I can play a match today?" Aaron asks enthusiastically when the barrier giving access to the club opens.

Mia looks at him for a few seconds and smiles. She adores her brother; she would do anything for him.

"We have time; I just don't know if Leah will be available."

"And if Leah can't, can't we play, you and me?" he asks again.

Mia shakes her head and turns the steering wheel to park the car.

"I have a meeting, remember?"

Aaron confirms with a nod, not very convinced, though he'll try to enjoy their time at the club. They walk along the stone path that leads to the side of the bar; that's where she's meeting Emma Harris, and Mia feels a jolt throughout her body thinking about the lawyer. There's something behind that smug look that Mia likes, something she believes Emma insists on hiding from the world.

"What a hottie," Aaron blurts out as soon as they enter the bar. The younger Harris lawyer smiles widely when she sees the siblings, stands up from the chair she's sitting in, and takes a couple of steps toward them.

Mia gives her brother a gentle elbow nudge. The boy is right, she doesn't doubt that, but she doesn't like him talking that way. Emma is dressed—as always—formally. She wears a suit, this time a light blue skirt and jacket with heels so high they make you dizzy. Her hair is pulled back, leaving her neck exposed, white, smooth, and Mia wishes in that moment she could be a fictional character so she could lean in and bite it.

"You must be Aaron," Emma says and extends her hand. The boy nods and does the same. "You look a lot like your sister."

That teenage boldness Aaron had when seeing her vanishes and turns to embarrassment. His cheeks flush red and he's unable to say a single word. He's at that point in his youth when girls start to attract him, though he doesn't feel confident enough to take a step forward. Besides, for him, Emma is a lady—an attractive one—but a lady.

Mia is surprised by the lawyer's warmth; she's been gentle and very kind to her brother. The complete opposite of how she usually is with her outside an office.

"Hey, kid," Aaron hears, and turns immediately upon recognizing the voice.

The boy embraces Leah while the tennis player whispers something in his ear.

"Leah invited me to play a match, can I go?" he asks, turning to his sister.

Mia instinctively looks at Emma. The meeting was, basically, for her to meet Aaron and she's not sure if letting him go at that moment is appropriate. The lawyer seems to guess the caddie's thoughts.

"While Aaron plays, we can review some points, Mia."

Mia nods, and although she should be relaxed because her brother will enjoy a sport he loves, thinking about staying with Emma—who surely has already reviewed the documentation she left at her office—keeps her uneasy.

Emma notices, knows that her now-client has nervousness that's unusual for her. It's true she barely knows her, but that haughty and arrogant attitude she usually has is nowhere to be seen. However, what Emma does notice is how good those pants make her ass look and how well that white polo shirt fits her. She licks her lips discreetly and quickly scolds herself; not with a ball girl.

"Everything okay?" Mia asks in a mocking tone. She's noticed the indiscreet once-over Emma gave her.

The lawyer twists her expression and activates her favorite mask.

"That's what I'm asking you," she shoots back and sits at the table. "You seem so nervous that I'd say I'm the reason you keep drying your hands on your pants."

What a bitch. The mask is the bitch one.

"You wish," Mia counters. "Anyway, what do you need to review? Everything I gave you is all I have."

It's now that Emma realizes what has her client in this state is the content of that documentation.

"Your record is not something I should care about, Mia," Emma says with all the seriousness her lawyer persona allows. "You must have your reasons for having done all that, and the only thing I need to consider as your legal representative is how this might affect the custody application."

Mia clenches her jaw tightly. Emma has been direct and hasn't shown any judgment, but she can't help feeling a series of the most contradictory emotions.

"Everything I've done, I've done for my brother," she says through gritted teeth.

Emma says nothing; speaking would only add fuel to the fire growing in front of her.

"I'm going to order at the bar, do you want anything?" Mia suddenly says after letting out a sigh; she needs to cut this moment of tension.

"Sparkling water, please," Emma requests.

Mia stands up, walks to the bar to order the drinks and doesn't let the bartender take them to the table. Waiting there for a few minutes gives her the tranquility she needs right now.

"Thank you," Emma says when her client sets down a glass with lots of ice, a slice of lemon, and sparkling water. "I've arranged an appointment for next week with a psychologist who will prepare Aaron's report. This will work in your favor; it's always well-regarded when a professional gives their viewpoint about emotional stability, in this case Aaron's. Then I'll meet with the social worker, Ms. Burk. We spoke yesterday by phone and the appointment is in a few days."

Mia relaxes; it seems Emma has everything planned out.

"As for Leah, her support will give you more credibility," she says and turns on a tablet she had already taken out of her purse. "I need to know more about your relationship, how did you meet?"

Mia's leg starts bouncing uncontrollably. She doesn't feel comfortable talking about it, though she knows she has to tell it once and for all; there's no use prolonging the moment. She takes a long sip of her soda, grabs a napkin from the table to wipe her lips, and focuses on her lawyer.

"It was when I tried to rob her," Mia notices the tension in Emma's body, but continues speaking. She's already begun and doesn't plan to stop. "Nobody would give me a job, I already had a record and nowhere trusted me. The little money I earned here and there I saved to pay a lawyer and fight for Aaron's custody. It was hard, I slept on the street and barely had enough to survive. That day they took what little I had; some addicts woke me up while I was sleeping in a park and stole everything. I hadn't eaten in two days; I was angry, hungry, disoriented. I saw Leah; she was coming out of a store with a couple of bags in her hands and stopped in front of a car. She had her phone in her back pocket and I didn't think; I went for it."

Mia pauses and lowers her head for a second, ashamed. Although it happened a long time ago, it still stings to remember.

"I wasn't expecting such a strong woman and when she felt me behind her trying to take her phone, she grabbed my wrist and threw me to the ground," Mia smiles for the first time while telling the story. "With her other hand she grabbed my shirt and, no matter how much I moved, she wouldn't let me leave."

Flashback "Don't move, damn it," Leah Walker says while the thief tries to escape. "I swear I'll break your wrist if you keep going."

"Let me go," the girl growls. She looks tired and her face is covered in dirt.

"I'm going to call the police, I won't let you keep stealing," says Leah while looking her in the eyes. Mia immediately stops moving.

"Please, no, I can't go back to jail," she begs.

"You should have thought of that before," says Leah while releasing her shirt and taking out the phone that thief intended to steal.

"I have a little brother, please, don't do it," Mia continues pleading, her eyes now filled with tears.

Leah thinks it might be a trick, a simple lie so the girl can escape and continue breaking the law. However, there's something about her, a pain reflected in her expression, a fragility she can feel that's almost palpable.

"I wanted your phone to sell it and get some money for food and start saving again for a lawyer," the girl says with a broken voice. "What I had was taken from me this morning; I just want to get my brother back."

Leah Walker's heart stops beating. She feels pity, distrust, sadness, but also an impulse to believe in this young, helpless girl.

"Do you promise not to run away if I assure you I won't call the police?" asks Leah, tightening her grip on Mia's wrist and looking at her with her head tilted.

"I promise," says Mia, and although Leah still has doubts, she lets her go.

When the girl gets up from the ground and stays next to the tennis player, Leah smiles at her. Mia wipes away her tears.

"Come on, let's find something to eat and you can tell me what happened to you."

"And that's how Leah and I became friends. Though I consider her a sister," Mia corrects herself.

Emma feels that the life of the girl in front of her is far from her own. She has lived wrapped in cotton while Mia has even had to steal to eat. How unfair life is.

She decides not to comment, feeling it's unnecessary, so the lawyer finishes taking some notes and moves on to the next question.

"I see you're still on supervised release, which requires you to sign in at court each month, but you haven't missed once or committed any new crimes; that speaks in your favor," Emma comments. "Regarding your house, the report you passed me is old. I'll send an inspector to make a new one. It's to certify that it's prepared for Aaron to live there comfortably and safely."

Mia appreciates that Emma hasn't delved into the story she just told; as much as it had a happy ending, remembering that time in her life isn't pleasant.

Both women talk at length. Emma clarifies some important details and Mia asks questions that come up. They agree on everything—surprisingly—there are no reproaches or out-of-place comments.

"Mia, how are you?"

The purr in the voice of the young woman who has stopped in front of the table puts Emma on alert. She frowns for two reasons: because of what she felt and because she wonders if this girl is stupid and doesn't realize she's interrupting a conversation. Mia's lopsided smile makes her sick; now she wonders if the importance of the meeting they're having has gone out the window because of this porcelain-skinned, blonde-haired, full-lipped girl.

"Hi, Cris," Mia says in a seductive tone without getting up from her chair. "All good, I see in your case too."

"What an idiot," Emma whispers in a very low tone, just for herself, though Mia hears her perfectly.

"I'm in the middle of a meeting right now, Cris," the caddie apologizes. "Can we talk later?"

"Sure," the doll-faced girl smiles. "Is tomorrow still on?"

"Of course," Mia confirms and says goodbye to Cris.

The young woman hasn't taken ten steps when Emma spits her venom.

"Next time we'll have to meet at my office, away from your hook-ups who interrupt meetings."

Mia tries—with effort—not to laugh. Emma's jealousy is obvious, jealousy, yes, she can recognize it in that heated look, even if the lawyer herself refuses to see it.

"We haven't even had our first kiss and you're already jealous," Mia doesn't ask, she states it, and that irritates Emma.

The lawyer is ready to put this shameless woman in her place, but Aaron's excited shouts make her close her mouth.

"I beat Leah," the boy blurts out, coming with a sweaty face. "Well, she let me win."

Mia smiles and hands him a couple of napkins to dry his face. She raises her hand to order a bottle of water and asks her brother to sit down.

"I'm very happy; if she let you win, it's because you're very close to beating her for real."

"Someday," Aaron confirms.

Mia nods and her expression turns serious.

"Aaron, we want to tell you what Emma is doing."

The boy's expression changes from happiness to bewilderment.

"I want to petition for your custody," Aaron smiles again, "and Emma is our lawyer. She's working very quickly to request it before the judge."

Emma looks at Mia, not wanting her to set aside the real reason why custody should be requested as soon as possible. The young caddie runs her hand over her face; she doesn't want to go through that moment again—not again—of telling Aaron he has to change families.

"You know Peter is sick and you won't be able to stay there with them anymore."

Aaron's face transforms into a look of terror.

"No, Mia..."

"Relax," Emma turns to the boy and puts both hands on his shoulders. "We're doing everything, even the impossible, so you don't have to go to anyone else's home. I just need you to trust us, okay? That way your sister will be more at ease."

The anguish on Mia's face has turned the lawyer's stomach. She felt an uncontrollable uneasiness and had to act. The kind look the caddie gives her is the best reward Emma has received, without a doubt.

"How about we go to that pizza place you like so much?" Leah asks Aaron, trying to dispel the bad moment as soon as possible.

The boy nods, energetically.

"Go wash your face and hands. We'll wait for you here," Mia requests.

"Goodbye, Emma," Aaron says and runs to the bathroom with the speed and vitality of a boy his age.

"I'm leaving too," Emma announces, putting her tablet back in her purse. "Leah, nice to see you. Mia, I'll let you know when I have next week's itinerary."

The lawyer extends her hand to shake her client's professionally—after doing the same with Leah—and both feel that whirlwind again as soon as their skin makes contact. Mia locks her gaze with Emma's and, although Emma makes a motion to withdraw her hand, the caddie doesn't let go and, in an involuntary act, squeezes it a little and winks at her.

Emma nearly has a heart attack—damn ball girl—and walks so quickly she almost runs into a little girl who was in her path.

"I know she likes me," Mia states when the lawyer disappears from view.

"And do you like her?" Leah asks mischievously.

"If she weren't such a stuck-up jerk, I'm sure I would."