Page 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LEVI

For someone who didn’t want domesticity, Nico had certainly settled into it. Beyond the morning spankings that had become perhaps my most favorite part of the day, he’d started using my house as if he were supposed to be there. When I got home first, he’d pop into the house to say hello before going home to change his clothes and then return. When he got home first, he changed and then waited for me inside my house. It was no longer a question of whether I would invite him to come over for dinner. It was a foregone conclusion that we’d be eating it together.

Nico’s easy acceptance of this…whatever it was…made it easier for me to compartmentalize it. The closer we became, the more I realized he was a man I could fall in love with, but I didn’t feel a rush to say the three little words. What we had was enough.

“Earth to Levi,” Jack said as he entered my office.

“What makes you think I’m not paying attention?” I asked.

“Because you asked for the Wellington-Chaumont file, and now you’re smiling. If you were actually paying attention to it, you would be cursing because that woman is, uh, let’s just say she’s determined to make my life a living hell.”

“Oh yeah, I know. Maybe one day she’ll be divorced, and then she won’t hire us again for the next one if we’re lucky.”

“But the settlement agreement came in last week, or at least I thought I did. Am I getting myself confused with a different file?”

“Young grasshopper, you have much to learn. This case will never be over because even though that settlement offer did come in last week and was absolutely everything she wanted, I got an email late last night that said she’s had more time to think about it, and it doesn’t work for her.”

“What is she getting now?”

“What she wants and what she’ll get are two different things.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. It was much more pleasant to think about Nico than this clusterfuck of a case.

“All right, well, let’s start with the basics. What does she want?” Jack asked.

“The weekend house on the San Juan Islands that they’ve gone to every year since they were married and has been in his family for I don’t know how many generations,” I answered.

“What is she getting?”

“Not that. I emailed her early this morning, explaining that it was willed to him by his parents before the marriage. She has no claim on it.”

“What about money that was used for the upkeep? Couldn’t she claim something through that?”

“Yes, if they’d used marital funds for the upkeep. However, his parents established a self-funding family trust prior to the marriage to pay for that upkeep. They wanted to make sure this exact scenario wouldn’t happen. She can’t claim that either, although she instructed me to try in the email.” Jack and I both stared at each other in silence. We both knew what was coming next.

“How much you want to bet she shows up today?”

“I’m not going to make a bet I’m guaranteed to lose. That might work with your kid, but I’m not gonna fall for it.”

“Given that my kid is an infant, I haven’t started gambling with her yet.”

Jack returned to his work, and I continued to stare out the window, thinking about Nico.

Unfortunately, thinking about Nico wasn’t conducive to accruing billable hours. Technically, I knew I could force the recording part off on Jack, but he had enough to do without adding that to his burden. It wasn’t a hardship for me to do it myself. The only thing that broke my concentration was the raised voices outside my office door.

My time of reckoning was here.

“You are an employee here, and I am a partner. You will not tell me I cannot go into an office,” Mr. Weatherly said as he slammed my door.

“You wanted to see me?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but given his droll look, I doubted I was successful. “May I help you?”

“It’s my understanding that your client contacted you this morning with their dissatisfaction about a provided offer.” Of course this would be the case that killed me.

“Yes, I provided my client with an offer that was received last week. The opposing side agreed to our entire demand.”

“And did your client sign off on that offer before it was sent?”

“Yes, of course, she did.”

“Then why is she calling me at home to say you’re refusing to assist her in getting an appropriate offer?” He peered at me over his glasses. More than once, I’d thought his face was eminently punchable, but never had it felt that way more than right now.

“What she wants is something she cannot have. The beach cabin, which is more like a chalet, is not on the table as an option. It’s been in his family for generations and was willed to him before the marriage. The upkeep funds for the cabin are in a separate trust. There is no claim.”

“Then you need to find one.” Weatherly stared at me with dead eyes and a blank expression. I must’ve misheard him because there was no goddamn way he was suggesting what I thought he’d just suggested.

“Do you have any ideas about what I might find?”

“He made a promise after the marriage and failed to comply with it.”

“Why hasn’t Mrs. Wellington-Chaumont ever brought this up before?”

“She didn’t want to bring forward the claim until she was sure it was something she wanted, and now it is.” Oh, he was proposing exactly what I thought.

“At the initial consultation, she complained she had no claim to the cabin. It seems like that would’ve been a great time to bring up this conversation.”

“It must’ve slipped her mind.” The staring contest we were engaged in was not one either of us was willing to budge on.

“Mr. Weatherly, I have zero desire to get slapped with a violation for filing a frivolous claim and be disbarred for suborning perjury.”

“That’s an issue only if you are aware it’s untruthful. She says it happened.”

“I am aware it is untruthful, and I am not doing it.”

Weatherly looked at me over his steepled fingers. His mouth was twisted in a sneer, as if, somehow, I gave a shit about what he thought. “This client is critically important to the firm, and we expect, as they also expect, our attorneys to do whatever is necessary to win their cases. If this case was in the win column, we might reevaluate our thoughts on your potential partnership.”

“She doesn’t meet the statutory requirements to have a claim, and I can’t do anything about that. Nothing indicates she has a claim. There is no evidence of any agreement. There is no memorandum. There is no paper trail of payment out of marital funds. Obviously, I’ll do whatever is necessary to help my client be successful in their case, but that has to be within the bounds of the law. I’m not willing to risk my license so this woman can screw her ex-husband more.”

“I don’t like the insinuation that we are doing something untoward.”

“That is quite literally what you were asking of me. There are no circumstances where I can legally or ethically do what you’re implying. And even if I wanted to do it, which I don’t, it would put the firm at risk.” Never in all my years of being an attorney had I ever encountered this situation, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to such blatantly unethical behavior.

“Are you aware she’s part of the Wellington family?”

“She has mentioned it several times, yes.”

“Her family has the potential to bring a significant amount of business to our firm. However, if we are unsuccessful in resolving her divorce satisfactorily, that won’t happen.”

“It will be resolved appropriately. We have received everything on her wish list, which, by the way, was extreme. There is literally nothing left that she’s legally entitled to claim.”

Weatherly and I stared at each other for an inordinate amount of time. Neither of us was willing to break the staring contest we were engaged in. Regardless of what happened with this case, my time at the firm was done. They couldn’t force me to suborn perjury, but they were skating close to it. Their willingness to skate the law to benefit a high-paying client was a bridge too far.

“Should I enter the appearance motion myself, or will you be filing the notice of substituted council?” Weatherly asked when he broke the stare.

“Are we calling this a termination or a mutual parting?”

“It’s a mutual parting. I have no intention of letting the firm’s dirty laundry be the subject of gossip.”

“The odds that anyone gives a shit about the interworking of our firm are low.”

“I knew hiring you was a mistake, but I was overruled by the hiring committee.”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t fit in, and you’ve never understood the firm’s culture or our clients.”

Weatherly hefted himself from the chair and headed to my office door. When he reached the door, I finally got an answer. “Peterson will be taking over as firm contact for Mrs. Wellington-Chaumont. Submit her name as new counsel and close it out. The rest of your cases will be divided up by the end of the week. You’ll need to notify me by the end of the day if there are any cases you can’t be substituted on and prepare your briefs on how to address the issues. Submit continuances as needed.”

The meaning of his words stung regardless of my previous realization. The ultimatum was a rebuke, and I was now gainfully unemployed.

“I’ll apologize on your behalf for not finding a way to make that happen.”

“Do what you need to do.” Goddammit. “What about Jack?”

Weatherly’s eyes narrowed before he answered, “His services won’t be needed anymore.”

“He gets a twelve-month severance in advance and an excellent reference. It’s nonnegotiable.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous. And if we refuse?”

“Then I air the firm’s dirty laundry. Your bullshit might not be illegal, but you’ll be tied up by ethics complaints and dirty laundry gossip.”

“This spine would’ve been more useful to you years ago.”

With that, Weatherly opened the door and slammed it behind him on the way out. I intended to begin drafting motions to withdraw, but I got sidetracked with unhelpful thoughts about what the fuck I was going to do with the rest of my life. Take up yoga? Sail around the world? Move back to Yakima and annoy my mother because I had, quite literally, nothing better to do? All viable options.

The only pressing issue I truly had was whether the entire firm needed to be told to go fuck themselves. Sadly, there were some pretty significant drawbacks to my plan. The first was that not all my clients were assholes, so I wanted their transition to a new attorney to be as painless as possible. Second, if I told them to get fucked, Jack would most certainly get screwed in the process, and I refused to let him be collateral damage. And three, I’d be in a metric shit-ton of trouble with my license. Unfortunately, I wasn’t burning down the world today. Since there wouldn’t be any dramatic blow-ups on my part, I grabbed my jacket and headed for my office door.

“Hey, Jack, it’s take your assistant to lunch day. Are you up for it?”

“Free food? Free is my favorite price.”

“Any preferences on where you want to go? I would suggest someplace a little farther away from the office.” Jack looked at me with discerning eyes. I couldn’t tell if he’d actually figured out what was happening or if he just knew me well enough to know I was pissed. It was probably a combination of the two.

“I never eat around here, so I have no preferences.”

“How about Stone and Vine then? My friend Owen’s…you’ve met him…boyfriend owns it.”

“I’ve never been there, but if you like it, then it’s fine with me.”

“It’s fantastic. You’re gonna love it.”

“There’s worse places to get bad news than over good food.”

Goddammit.

* * *

When in doubt, I always worked in my garden. In the name of modesty, I downplayed the extent of puttering, but I’d poured blood, sweat, and tears into every square inch of my garden. Toxic masculinity could fuck right off because I loved my bright, colorful flowers.

The new roses by the front walkway were growing nicely, and I’d added a few hostas to cover the roots. My perennial daisies were getting bigger every year, but I needed to find some space for the sunflowers I was going to add for Nico. When he brought Nonna over for a visit, I thought she might like to sit back there and enjoy them.

Telling Jack he’d been fired had gutted me. The twelve-month severance helped, but that wasn’t a job and wouldn’t last forever. It also wasn’t guaranteed until the check was in his hand. With no spouse or kids, I’d squirreled away plenty of money since leaving law school, so I wasn’t concerned about myself. My savings would last me well over a year if I drained the account to nothing. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but my cushion was enough that I could think about the next steps without too much urgency.

“Babbo, you’re home early.” I’d been so lost in thought about my garden planning and the rest of my life that I hadn’t noticed Nico’s car pull into the driveway.

“Yeah, I didn’t have a reason to stay at work today, so I cut out early.”

“Does that mean the case that’s been bothering you got worked out?” I appreciated the look of excitement Nico gave me, even if it was unfounded. Nico sat next to me on the grass—his lavender suit be damned—and started pulling weeds with me.

“Unfortunately, no. But it’s not my problem anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t it be your problem anymore?” he asked, clearly confused.

“There are some loose ends that need to be tied up, but I’m not with the firm as of today.”

“You quit your job?”

“Oh no, I was most definitely fired from my job today, which is fine, I guess, but worse than that, my assistant was also let go too.”

“That’s…Jack, right?”

“Yeah.” I sighed heavily. “I demanded a twelve-month severance for him, which is about nine months longer than the usual severance package when someone’s let go involuntarily, but he’s a single dad and going to school. I know he felt blindsided.”

“That’s really, really awful.” Nico looked worried and heartbroken, all wrapped into one. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it, Sweet Boy. It happens.” I was going to force myself to be okay with this right now, even if it killed me. The situation was too big to unpack, so for today, I was going to pretend it hadn’t happened. To make that happen, I focused on pulling weeds to take my mind off all of it. The only thing I had to ask myself was the perennial question—is it a weed or a plant?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I gave him a questioning look and then listened to what my gut was saying. Nico was the Prince of Distracting Distractions.

“Yeah, actually, there is. Let’s get out of the house and not think about it?”

“You’re gonna need to get cleaned up first because you can’t go covered in dirt.” Nico gave me a piercing look, then added, “I think you need delicious food and a club so loud you won’t be able to hear yourself think.”

After a few minutes of pulling weeds with me, Nico would also be in need of a shower to get the dirt and grime off.

“Have I ever told you how important water conservation is to me?”

“I had no idea you were such an environmentalist.”

“It’s true. I’m very concerned about ensuring we have enough water in the Pacific Northwest. We could run out any decade now.”

“Do you have any ideas on how I can help you conserve water?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” With that, I stood and tugged him to his feet before dragging a laughing Nico into the house to take a shower together—in the name of conservation.

* * *

I’d never been one for clubs, but watching Nico in his element might be enough to change my mind. The pulsing beat of the music thudded through me, but I hardly noticed because I was watching my boy dance with abandon. It was a sight. His hot pants molded against his juicy ass and the mesh shirt he wore teased glimpses of his nipples and chest. He’d dusted himself with body glitter after our shower, and now he sparkled under the strobe lights of the club.

I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. The sharks circled him, looking for an opening, but he hadn’t entertained anything more than a friendly bump and grind. He twirled and swayed to the music like poetry in motion, but he was in a world all his own. With his eyes closed, there was only Nico on this island of his making.

I stood along the railing to watch the spectacle unfolding before me in the dim light. He’d invited me to the club, and I’d wanted to go, but I didn’t have any desire to join him on the dancefloor. The show was what I was here for, and it was worth every minute. The designated keeper of drinks and jackets was fine by me. My dancing was robotic, at best, and the last thing I wanted to do was interrupt Nico’s flow.

A stranger sidled up to where I was standing along the railing. It was my first time here, so I didn’t recognize him, of course, but it seemed like he was hunting down a specific spot on the dancefloor. I glanced up and did a double take when I realized I was standing beside a low-to-the-ground mountain. I gave him a nod of acknowledgment and then returned my attention to Nico on the dancefloor.

“He’s a pretty one,” the man shouted in as much of a conversational tone as you could have in a nerve-shattering loud nightclub.

“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?”

“The guy in the hot pants and mesh shirt you’ve been staring at nonstop for the last thirty minutes.”

“Do I know you?”

“Nah, we haven’t met. And I barely know him.” I looked closer at the man standing beside me, watching the dancefloor. Like Nico, he was in hot pants, but instead of a mesh shirt, he wore a leather halter. The guy seemed nice enough, but his tone was melancholy, which seemed odd given the circumstances.

“Then I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Aways back, he was here, and we were going to hook up in the restroom,” he answered conversationally. He paused, glanced over at me, and gave me a hard look before continuing, “Don’t get pissy with him. He didn’t do anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m just curious as to how you remember him.”

“It’s not every day a guy turns down a blowjob in the restroom because he’s hung up on his landlord.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m guessing you’re the landlord, so it must’ve worked out all right.”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

“Am I wrong?” I shrugged but didn’t contradict him.

“I’m Casey, by the way.”

“Levi.”

“Not going to introduce him?”

“Nope. You remember him well enough for a hookup that wasn’t. You don’t need his name.” The guy’s rueful grin seemed at odds with something undefined, but I still couldn’t name the contradiction other than to know there was one.

“Relax, my guy, I’m not trying to steal ya boy.” I gave Casey what I hoped was a non-predatory once-over. The guy was built like a damn freight train.

“Sorry. I assumed you were gay.”

Casey looked at me confused and then let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh, fuck yeah, I like boys, but I am not into them.”

What the hell was he even talking about? “Are you okay? Have you had too much to drink? Do I need to call someone for you?”

“Yeah, don’t even worry about it`. Glad to see he found his man,” Casey said with a chuckle before he turned and blended in with the rest of the crowd.

When I glanced back at the dancefloor, Nico was looking at me curiously, but I just waved and smiled. He shrugged and continued with his dancing. I went back to watching the only thing I wanted to see.

It was a few more songs before Nico was ready to come over to where I stood holding his stuff.

“Hey, handsome, you new in town?” Nico’s attempt at the movie flirting was a big hit with me.

“Yeah, you gonna show me a good time?” We lost all hope of coolness when we both dissolved into giggles.

“Here, drink some water. You look like you were working hard out there.”

“Thanks. It’s been a minute since I came out.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I think this is the first time you’ve been to the club in weeks. Do you miss it?” My question hung in the air, unanswered. For the first time, I saw uncertainty in Nico’s face.

As a lawyer, I was ready to kick my own ass. The first rule of court was always knowing the answer to your question before it was asked. The second rule was if you didn’t know the answer before you asked, you better be damned sure you wanted the answer. I’d fucked up on both counts.

Nico’s expression changed from silly to uncomfortable to stricken to something inexplicable. Where his hand was lightly on my arm, he drew back like it was singed. It finally dawned on me what his expression was. Guilt. When he stopped meeting my gaze, I knew what I needed to say because I knew what was coming out of his mouth next. I’d accidentally triggered his fight or flight, and Nico was about to run.

“Nico, you’ve always been straight with me, and I won’t ever tie you to something you don’t want.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore. You said if I wanted to explore with other people, all I had to do was tell you. I’m telling you.”