Ask Me Why(4)

Mary strides over. “You don’t have to do that. We can pay.”

I wave her off. “It’s my pleasure. This little tyke has brightened my day.”

“I have?” Ollie squeaks.

“Absolutely,” I confirm.

He makes grabby-hands at the bag. I hold it up and out of reach. “I don’t want to spoil your dinner.”

Ollie pouts, his lower lip trembling slightly. Wow, he’s good. My resistance is no match for this kid.

I pass the candy to Mary, giving her control. She mouths a silent thank you and beckons to Ollie. “We should get going. Your dad will be home soon.”

At the mention of his father, he begins hopping in place. “Oh, I hope he brings me a surprise.”

Mary raises a brow at him. “Isn’t this enough?” She shakes the taffy all about.

Ollie seems to ponder that. “I guess.” His gaze swings to me. “Can I come back, Miss Braelyn?”

The urgency in his tone takes me by surprise. “Of course, Ollie. You’re always welcome here.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

There’s no denying him. “I’d really like that.”

His grin is huge and honest. “Me too. I can’t wait.”

As I watch them walk out the door, the storm clouds threaten to roll in. An unexpected wave crashes over me, but I’m not drowning in it today. No, I’m soaring above the violent sea.

Without realizing it, this taffy-loving kiddo gave me a reason to smile.





Brance



Debrief



A loud knock interrupts my intense focus on the deposition laid out in front of me. Dammit, I was finally making a dent on this shitty file. I lift my eyes and find my assistant fidgeting just outside the doorway. When she remains silent, my irritation spikes another notch.

“Yes?” My voice is a harsh lash across the distance between us.

She’s wringing her hands so tight that the knuckles are white. “Uh, um—”

“Spit it out, Kathy. We don’t have all day.”

She sighs, and the weight on her shoulders deflates. What a fucking mouse. “Missus Kleinston is here for her appointment.”

I glare at my watch. “She’s over an hour late.”

“Should I send her away?” Kathy’s face loses more color, as if the thought alone is terrifying. I imagine the conflict she was battling on whether or not to alert me almost caused her an ulcer. But she doesn’t complain and does a decent enough job. Good help can be hard to find.

I glance at the stack of papers in front of me, a fight of my own beginning to brew. But at the rate Missus Kleinston is paying me, I can’t afford to lose her business. I swallow down the knee-jerk response and check my temper.

“Give me five minutes. Then bring her in,” I mutter.

“Yes, sir.” Kathy scurries off with fire licking her heels.

I pick up my phone and stab at the number pad, dialing Mary’s cell. She answers after one ring.

“Hello, Brance. On the way?” Her chirp is crisp as usual.

I blow out a heavy breath. “Unfortunately, no. Would you mind watching Ollie for a bit longer? A client just showed up, and I’ve been waiting to meet with her.”

“That’s no trouble. He’s quite entertained at the moment.”

“With what?” I squeeze my eyes shut and picture his smile. My son is the only reason I haven’t turned to solid rock by this point. His bright presence keeps me grounded, a reminder there’s more to this shallow existence. He’s proof that I can do something right. Well, other than win a shitload of cases.

“We found a new shop in Bebliff. They have a generous assortment of candy. Ollie especially loves the taffy,” Mary explains.

“Does he now?” I almost laugh. That boy could eat his weight in sugar and go back for seconds.

“Oh yes. And the owner is a delight. I think he’s quite taken with her. She’s very lovely.” Mary hums her approval.

“Just great,” I grumble. A crush is the last thing Ollie needs. I scrub my forehead and groan. My son’s standards are stupid low when it comes to women. He will deem anyone with a pulse fit to fill the role of mommy dearest. All I need is another gold digger sinking in her claws where they don’t belong. His desperation for approval is sadly maddening. I hope that bitch who birthed him is real fucking proud of the mess she made.

Mary huffs down the line. “Don’t be a grouch. Not every woman is like your mother. Or her.” The emphasis she places on that last word makes my skin crawl.

“Not sure what either of them have to do with this.” It’s eerie as fuck how well she reads me, even over the phone.

“You’re assuming the worst of the girl we met today. All I had to do was mention that Ollie liked her.”

“Didn’t say anything of the sort,” I mutter.

“You don’t have to. I know how you feel about this subject.”

My exhale is loud. “I find no worth granting them a chance to prove me right. It’s safer to assume they’re all out for the same thing.”

“And why is that, Brance? You’ll never be happy this way.”

I bite back my scoff. “Do you hear me complaining?”

“I worry about you, dear.” Her tone is placating and grates on my nerves.