The Row(46)

“Deal.” He disappears quickly through the door.

I glance out the window in the reception area, marveling at how beautiful this city is from up here. What would our lives have been like if Daddy had never even been accused of this awful crime? How different would it be to visit him here in an expensive office in a beautiful downtown skyscraper—instead of in dark and dismal Polunsky? Daddy would have to deal with boardrooms and legal meetings instead of weekly visits and near-constant isolation.

That’s a life we should’ve known, and every time I come here it feels like I’m peeking in on a parallel universe where everything in my life went right instead of horribly wrong.

I stick my head past the reception wall and take a look around.

Rows and rows of cubicles line the middle of the huge room. The outside walls are full of offices and shining boardrooms. The firm has obviously grown since I was last here. Mama told me it’s more than double the size it was before Daddy went to prison. The firm had still been in this same spot, but back then they only had one quarter of the floor instead of the whole thing. Back then the cubicles didn’t outnumber the offices twenty to one.

“Wow,” I whisper to myself. There is movement in a room to my right, and Stacia pokes her head out.

“Riley?” She gives me a startled look before walking over for an awkward hug and then pulling me toward the room she’d been in before. It’s a giant break room and she’s making herself a coffee.

“What are you doing here, hon?” Her expression overflows with pity and I turn my gaze away, pretending I don’t hate that look.

“I came to meet with Mr. Masters. We don’t have long to do something before they’re—they will—” I stop suddenly, realizing I’ve opened the door on my emotions too wide. I can’t escape the thought that we are down to only seventeen days left—seventeen. I’ve always felt safe with the knowledge that Stacia truly believes Daddy is innocent and that she can be trusted to understand the pain I’m in. Still, the lump in my throat keeps me from speaking, and I silently curse myself and all my confused emotions.

Stacia pulls me in for another hug when she sees me break; this one is so tight it surprises me. “We’re going to figure this out, Riley. We won’t let them do that.”

I hug her back and force myself to get a grip. “Do you really think you guys can do anything to help him?”

Stacia hesitates, her eyes damp. She truly seems to be hurting and it’s nice to not feel alone in my pain. Then she squeezes my arm. “I think he’s going to be—”

“Excuse me, ladies.” A deep voice that sounds like pure warmth speaks from directly behind me, and I whirl around.

A smile steals across my face when I see Benjamin Masters standing in the doorway, but that’s before I see his right hand bringing Jordan into the room behind him. The sleeves of Mr. Masters’s expensive dress shirt are rolled up to the elbows, his vest is undone, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck.

“It seems I’ve found a … visitor,” Mr. Masters states simply, but the hint of a frown on his face surprises me.

Jordan’s eyes shift between me and the lawyer’s hand on his arm. He seems like he’s trying to ask me something. Maybe, Should I run?

I give a slight shake of my head.

“Mr. Masters, I didn’t know you were still here,” Stacia says, dropping her arm back to her side and looking from Jordan to the firm’s partner in confusion.

“Yes.” His eyes focus in on me, his eyebrows lifting as his gaze moves almost imperceptibly toward Jordan. “Well, here I am.”

“I—uh—” Stacia begins, looking confused, but Masters interrupts her before she can get any further.

“I hate to interrupt your conversation, but would it be possible for me to speak to Miss Riley in my office, please?” He turns and guides Jordan back a few steps without waiting for her reply.

“Of course. Do you need me to call security?” All emotion is gone from her voice. She’s switched straight over into business mode.

“Not necessary, but thank you.” His voice comes from halfway up the hall now, and I exhale sharply. Mr. Masters definitely likes a bit of drama, but I’m happy to see he isn’t going to jump the gun with this one.

With a quick wave and an apologetic glance to Stacia, I follow after them. Heading for the office of Benjamin Masters—brilliant lawyer, Skittles hoarder, and one of my favorite people in the world.





21

THEY ARE QUITE A BIT ahead of me, so by the time I stand outside the corner office with the words Benjamin Masters—Partner on the door, Jordan is sitting in a chair, and Masters stands with his back to him, staring out the window. Clearing my throat, I walk slowly through the open door.

Mr. Masters turns to face me without saying anything. Despite the deepening frown on his face, he opens his arms and I rush forward to give him a hug. He prefers to keep displays that make him seem “more human” out of sight of his employees. So I’m not surprised that he was less welcoming in front of Stacia. He says, “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” I say back, hugging him tight. And it is. It’s always good to see Mr. Masters. He’s the closest thing to a father figure I’ve had—outside of Polunsky. He always comes to the few school events I’ve been required to participate in, brings me very thoughtful presents on my birthday, and even took me out to celebrate when I got my driver’s license.