Devoted - The Complete Series: A BWWM Romance Boxset (2 page)

The click of Rachel’s heels, like a tap dancer breaking in his new shoes, interrupt my thoughts.

“Mr. Sheppard, Mr. Noble, can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” Rachel asks as I give my lawyer’s hand a shake.

“No, I believe we’re both fine,” I answer for the two of us, sweeping my hand toward the seat in front of my desk. Dwight strides across my floor with his chest puffed out like he’s about to cross-examine a witness. I’d bet a thousand bucks that he’s practiced that swagger for court so much that it’s become his real walk.

How long does it take before we’re all just the polished, practiced versions of ourselves? How many years on the force before the police officer expects compliance from his children like he does from a perp on the street? How long before the lawyer treats every conversation with his wife like it’s being presented to a jury, or an accountant figures out the financial risk assessment of holiday cheer? How long before we become less of who we are and more of what we do for money?
And where does that leave me?

I shake my head back into the moment and brush my door shut with the tips of my fingers before making my own practiced strut to the imposing leather chair behind my desk.

“Bradley! What can I do for you? Please tell me you’ve got something solid on Eileen so we can take this thing to court,” Dwight Noble barks at me like we aren’t sitting five feet from each other.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Dwight—”

“Good, good! Whaddya got?”

“Nothing. The private investigator hasn’t turned up anything we didn’t already know. The drinking, the men, she keeps all of that stuff away from Brooklyn. I mean, damn it, she isn’t going to win any awards on mothering, but you already said it isn’t enough for me to get full custody on either, right?”

“No, I don’t think it is Bradley.” He tents his fingers together and furrows his brow, “These custody cases still side with the mother about 70-80% of the time. And no judge in their right mind is going to award you full guardianship of Brooklyn just because of some boozy nights and flings. You need something rock solid.”

“Well, I don’t have time for that!” My hand squeezes around the arm of my chair until my knuckles turn purple. “In the meantime, Eileen is tumbling down a rabbit hole and I can’t wait until she hits rock bottom before we do something about it. You need to take this to court, even if I get partial custody it’s gotta be better than this shit.”

“Bradley, look, I understand that you’re frustrated. I’ve yet to see a child custody battle that isn’t frustrating, but if you take this to court right now, I’m telling you, it will be a mistake. Patience is going to pay off in this game. It always does.” He reassures me. Not that a word out of his expensive mouth is very reassuring.

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Sit here and hope that Eileen doesn’t do something drastic? Just hope that between her moods and her drinking that she doesn’t kill Brooklyn? I’m not paying you to sit around and wait; I’m paying you to build us a solid case and win it. There’s got to be something else we can do besides wait for the bottom to fall out!”

“There is,” Dwight is so calm it pisses me off even more. Of course he doesn’t see how urgent this is. To him, I’m just another client paying for his Manhattan office. He gets his retainer whether I win this or don’t. “You need to play the long game, Bradley. The courts aren’t going to like that you don’t live in the same state.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it? The head office is here.”

“Yes, but does it have to be? Now hear me out,” he holds his hand up and I clamp my jaw. “I’m not saying to make a multi-million dollar move outta town, but maybe you could set up a satellite office in Florida that you work out of? At least half the time? Then maybe you could just come to New York for handshakes and paper signings on your meetings. It would look much better to a judge to have a residence in the same city as Brooklyn.”

Move from New York?
I’d never really given it any thought. Although, Lord knows that I spend enough time flying back and forth to put out fires with Eileen that I might as well set up camp there.

How many hours have I spent on those flights?
Enough that every stewardess on the Eastern seaboard route knows me by name. More than a few of them have had some practice calling it out while I’ve slid my cock into them. I don’t spend my time prowling around the city for women, or using my money to have them delivered to me like some kind of pizza. But, I’m not a saint. Those short skirts and flirty smiles have been just the distraction I’ve needed from time to time. “Fine, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Great,” Dwight perks up. “While you’re thinking about that you might want to give some consideration to finding yourself a stable, nice woman to spend more of your time with. I’m not saying you need to be married, yet, but it would build you a more solid case against Eileen if you had more family appeal. You know, someone to tend to the roost while you’re working.”

“I can afford twenty-four-hour care, Dwight. A relationship is not what I need to have stability. I need you to do your job and build this case.” Who the hell does he think he is to tell me how to live my life?
Move your office, find a woman, any other hoops to jump through for you?

The truth is, I’m sick of occasional one night stands with women who mean so little that I can’t remember their names. It amazes me how many of them giggle or think it’s cute when I call them ‘sugar’ or ‘honey’. Maybe they don’t care about the pretense anymore than me. I doubt they think I’m taking them to a hotel to lay the foundation of our promising future together. Not that I don’t want that.

Settling down with the right woman is something I’ve been thinking about more and more these days. However, it’s difficult to get a new relationship off the ground with this sort of drama going on in the background. Sure, I can find a woman who doesn’t care, for the right price. But I’m old enough that I want a woman who wants a future with me, not my bank account.

My eyes are strained, and my collar feels like it’s restricting my airway. Suddenly, my sprawling office, the one that was supposed to be a symbol of my financial success, the one that was supposed to represent my hard work and career aspirations, is swallowing me. Despite the new landscape paintings and office chairs, this still feels like Matthew Blackwell’s office, and I am becoming a prisoner within it’s walls. “All right, Dwight. I’ll mull it all over and get back to you on how I wish to proceed.”

“I’m just telling you how to make yourself a stronger profile in the case, you can take my advice or leave it. Just remember that when this goes to court it will be you against Brooklyn’s mother. To take a child away from their mom, out of state, to live with a twenty-four/seven Nanny isn’t a strong case. No matter how much money you earn. However, to take on custody in the same city, with a stable family life of your own for her to become a part of, well I don’t need to tell you that the latter will give you a fighting chance.” Dwight gives me his closing arguments. He stands up and gives my hand a shake before puffing back out and peacocking his way out of my office.

Typical fucking lawyer.

Chapter Three:

Brianna

“Are you nuts? There’s no way I’m drinking that!” Kendra wrinkles her nose at the tequila shots I just plopped down on the table. The club is noisy, and the heavy bass in the music is making my lungs dance along with the house beat. It’s been over a year since I’ve gone out to the bars like this.

It blows my mind that this is how I used to spend every weekend, usually both on Friday and Saturday. It’s only quarter to eleven, and I’m already tired. The music seems too loud; the kids on the floor look too young, and the lines at the bar are too long. The only reason I’m sticking it out is because, in the entire time I’ve known Kendra, we’ve never just gone out on the town like this. She’s always been too serious and too focused on school to let loose. It’s nice to see her buzzing a little and relaxing for once.

“Awww, c’mon now you’re starting to sound like Paula and Tina.” We started the night at a nice Italian restaurant with all the bridesmaids. However, Kendra’s brothers are all older than her, with kids. So their wives weren’t up for an all-nighter of clubbing and drinks. Tina, Matthew’s sister, did stick it out with us until about an hour ago, but she ditched us when she saw the line to get in here.

Kendra looks at the shot, half of which is pooled around the thin glass from when I hit it down on the table, then looks at me. “Ok, but this is the last one.” Her hand hovers over the edge of the shot glass as she waits for me to agree.

“Oh, alright. No more shots.”

“No more drinking at all. There’s no way I’m going to keep up with you, and I don’t want to suffer for trying.” Kendra is a lightweight. A slice of rum cake at Christmas probably gets her tipsy.

“Do you wanna go home?” My heart sinks and my fingers pinch against the cool glass, teasing me with a mouthful of tequila. We’ve never hung out like this before, and now that Kendra is a few days away from being Mrs. Blackwell, I know we won’t be doing this in the future either.

“No, no. I’m not saying that. I just don’t want to drink anymore. I’m still having fun though.”

“Ok then, you ready?” Kendra nods at me, and she steels herself. . “3, 2, 1.” We clink the miniature glasses together, spilling a little more booze on the table. The tequila tastes like oily fire down my throat. Kendra’s face twists into a knot while she struggles to swallow the liquor swirling around on her tongue.

“This isn’t a wine tasting, don’t savor it! Just swallow it.” You’d think I handed her a slug from how much effort she’s using to get it down.

“Ugh! How the hell does anyone drink that?” Her eyes water and she sticks out her tongue in disgust.

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad,” I tease. I’m still surprised that she drank the damned thing. When I bought the shots, I figured there was a 70% chance that I was going to have to drink both.

“Hey, do you remember when we used to have sleepovers in high school?” Kendra tilts her head and smiles as days from our not-so-distant youth dance over her eyes.

“Yeah, you were a goody-goody then too.” I laugh. “Always making us turn out the lights by ten and telling me to keep it down.”

“It’s true.” Kendra’s eyes soften, and she leans her head against her fist. “I’ve never had the guts to live life like you, always taking risks and having faith that it’ll all work out.”

“Well, I think we can both see whose plan was better,” I turn my palm up to her, like I’m offering her an hors d'oeuvre at one of the many galas she goes to now. “You’ve done well for yourself. You’ve gotten promoted, like what? Three times now?”

“Four.” She looks at the table bashfully.

“See? Four. That’s incredible. You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished so far. Besides, the best is still ahead of you.”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m not happy. Honestly, I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“It shows.” Her happiness seems to add gloss to her hair and shine to her eyes that she never had before she met Matthew.

“Thanks.” Kendra flashes a quick smile like the sun peeking out from behind a cloud for a moment. “Hey, so, do you remember how we would play ‘truth or dare’?”

The image flashes back to me. Kendra is sitting cross-legged in her flannel pajamas at nine pm. “Truth.” I would roll my eyes. Of course, she chose truth. She always chose truth. It would be fine if she led a scandalous life or had some juicy secrets to share. However, the most enticing piece of information that game ever taught me about her was that she sometimes thought about what it would be like to kiss our high school quarterback.

“You’d think I blocked it out since it was so boring.” We laugh. She knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“I know, I know.” She waves her hands in surrender, “I wasn’t as adventurous as you, ok?”