Page 14 of Overruled

I swallow against the lump in my throat, pressing another kiss to her hair. “Talk soon, Mom. Okay?”

She nods meekly. “Of course, dear.”

I have to take a moment back out in the hall, the urge to stomp down to Alexander’s office and cause him bodily harm ever present. But there are a dozen reasons why I can’t do that, and one of them is sitting in the other room.

I find him just where I expected to, perched in his giant wingback chair surveying documents on his desk as if he’s looking at lands to be conquered. For all I know, he might be. Alexander Hart views everything as something to be conquered.

“Sit down,” he says.

As far as greetings from him go, it could be worse.

I plop down into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, lacing my fingers together in my lap just to have something to hold on to.

I wait several minutes for him to finish whatever he’s doing, knowing that interrupting will only spur him to make me wait longer.

I can’t say how much time passes before he gives me his attention, but his cold blue eyes find mine with that look he reserves only for me, as if I am a disappointment waiting to happen.

“So, yesterday didn’t go as planned,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, no shit.”

He narrows his eyes. “Watch your tone. It’s unfortunate that you didn’t predict Bianca knowing about the account.”

I actually balk. “I’m sorry? I was supposed to anticipate Lorenzo’s wife knowing about a secret account that I wasn’t even privy to?

Is it your goal to have me try this case with one arm tied behind my back, or did it just conveniently slip your mind to tell me the man has been paying some woman for almost thirty years? ”

“We didn’t think it was information Bianca could gain access to, therefore we didn’t deem it relevant to disclose.”

“ We ,” I snort. “Why did you even hand the case to me if you’re going to micromanage things from behind the scenes?”

“Your brother’s caseload is already too heavy as it is. I thought surely you could handle something as simple as a divorce with a signed fucking prenup.”

“Is it my fault your friend seems to be an asshole?”

“Careful,” Alexander warns.

I press my lips together to hold back another retort. I know this won’t get me anywhere. There’s no arguing with Alexander Hart. There’s only doing whatever the fuck he says.

“So how do you suggest I proceed from here?”

He leans back in his chair. “The woman Lorenzo has been issuing payments to is a relative. The money is to cover her medical bills. She’s chronically ill, you see.”

“Chronically ill,” I parrot dryly.

He nods. “That’s right.”

I close my eyes and count to three. “Are there any documents confirming the nature of this account? Medical bills? Discharge records?”

“Unnecessary, given that Bianca and the little lawyer Moreno’s assigned to the case will never find any evidence refuting it.”

“So you just expect me to give them that horseshit and assume they roll with it?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Why would they not? It’s the truth.”

“Of course it is,” I mumble.

“This case should be an easy win for you,” Alexander says. “I would hate for there to be any more hiccups. If you can’t handle something as simple as this, perhaps I should lighten your caseload entirely.”

My heart starts to beat faster. I know where this road leads. The threats will not end with just me. They never do.

“I can handle it,” I assure him. “It’s fine.”

“Good to hear,” he says. “Be sure to tell your mother goodbye before you go.”

And just like that, I’m dismissed. I know better than to press any issues, standing without argument. “Anything else?”

“Eli tells me you’re friendly with Danica Pierce.”

My jaw clenches, and I can only hope he doesn’t notice. “She’s an acquaintance. We’ve been opposing sides for a number of cases now.”

“I see.” He regards me for a long moment, my stomach twisting into knots the entire time. “See that it remains that way. A friendship with someone from a rival firm wouldn’t do well.”

I give him a stiff nod, quickly retreating from his office before he can think of anything else to discuss. Fucking Eli. Fucking Alexander.

This fucking family, I swear.

I do tell my mother goodbye before I leave, but she’s less than before. Less talkative, less aware, just…less. It twists my insides to see her like that.

I sit in my car afterward checking my messages, and I only feel a slight tinge of desperate relief when I see Dani’s name among them. I don’t analyze it too deeply. I can’t.

Sour Patch: I’ve forwarded the documents Bianca shared with me for disclosure. We can do depositions on the 16th or the 26th. Do either of those dates work for you?

There’s an overwhelming urge to call her, to ask to see her—if only to have a brief respite from the tumultuous emotions roiling inside me.

Not that she would want it. Honestly, I think this might be a rare day where her barbs would be less than endearing.

I think today they might actually cut. I tamp everything I’m feeling down, tapping out a quick reply.

Me: I’ll check my schedule, but the 16th should work.

I see the dots dance across the screen, disappear, pop back up, and then disappear again before she finally sends:

Sour Patch:

Despite everything, it makes me laugh. In a world of uncertainty, Dani being prickly is a constant. It’s oddly comforting. It even lifts my mood a little.

Me: Don’t miss me too hard.

More dots. Then more dots. Then nothing. Then:

Sour Patch:

I laugh out loud, feeling lighter. She really is so prickly. It’s probably weird that I find it endearing.

I refuse to analyze that either.