Chapter 6
Brian
Every time I opened the case file, my hands shook with rage. She deserved so much more. Including better divorce lawyers years ago.
I’d been up half the night, making the changes Cliff and I discussed. And then this morning, Lo and I had sat down with Jess’s paperwork and strategized, deciding to file the initial motion next Tuesday so we’d get on the docket quickly.
And while reviewing the documents Will had finally sent over, my blood pressure had skyrocketed.
When Lo went back to her own office, I googled Kenneth Mosely. Mostly so I’d know what I was up against, though part of me was curious too. To understand the kind of person Jess had married.
He was older. Probably in his early fifties, and handsome in that I belong to a yacht club kind of way. Medium height and build.
I could kick his ass. That was immediately apparent. Cracking my knuckles, I geared up to do a deeper dive into this motherfucker.
Kenneth Mosely. Venture capital. MBA from Wharton. Lots of credentials.
Reading his profile felt like taking an Ambien.
Another undeserving rich dude drunk on self-confidence and unearned privilege.
Also? Accomplished sailor. And golfer.
I could assume these were some of the activities he was busy with when he wasn’t bothering to show up for visitation with his daughters.
I should have stopped once I’d read his professional bio.
That would have been the dignified thing to do.
But after the pain that had radiated from her in the yoga studio, the pain that had come with being on her own, with the knowledge that her ex was choosing not to have a relationship with his kids, the temptation to keep digging was overwhelming.
And the more I dug, the less I liked what I found.
Images of him at society functions, looking like a smug old prick with a series of duck-lipped girls on his arm. Most of whom looked young enough to be his daughters.
My stomach churned at those images.
The charity golf tournament images and galas for cancer research made me want to vomit. Because while he smiled and laughed like he didn’t have a care in the world, his ex-wife and daughters were here, struggling to make ends meet.
With a frustrated grunt, I slammed my laptop closed. That fucker was in for a world of hurt.
Dylan and I had been raised by a single parent. I knew the struggles. After our mom passed away, our dad did a damn good job raising us, but even now, her loss haunts me.
It reminds me that every day matters. The people in our lives are gifts, and we never know how long we’ll have them.
And here was this asshole, too busy schmoozing and gallivanting around the world to make time to see his children.
Instead, his only contribution was a monthly check, like they were a debt to be paid off.
I stood, hands balled into fists. I needed to punch something.
Carefully, forcing myself to breathe evenly, I unbuttoned my dress shirt and draped it over the back of my chair. Then I sprinted down the basement steps and flipped the lights and the fan on. I just needed a few minutes.
Rolling my shoulders, I donned a pair of gloves.
I was short on time, so I didn’t bother with hand wraps.
Our firm in the city was equipped with a gym, where I worked out most mornings.
This building had a spider-infested basement with cinder-block walls, but I made do.
I didn’t have time to make it to a local gym with the workload I’d brought to Jersey with me.
I’d been hitting the bag twice a day all week, yet it had done little to quiet the emotions rising up inside me.
When Jess had walked through my office door that first day, something in my chest had cracked wide open. Now, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t close it up again.
I set a timer on my phone and gave myself ten minutes to work out my frustration and anger using jabs and crosses. As I shuffled around to get my heart rate up, I worked through it all in my head.
As a working-class kid in Brooklyn, trouble was easy to find, but I’d discovered boxing early and had poured myself into it to work off some of my teen angst and to keep from falling into the wrong crowd.
Dad worked a lot, which meant I was responsible for Dylan often.
Between caring for her and studying, I had little free time, but the old boxing gym was a place I could let go and just be a kid for a bit.
With each strike, clarity settled within me.
Reading about Kenneth Mosely had set me off. What a bastard. He’d had it all. Everything. And he’d thrown it away cruelly.
It offended me deep in my bones.
Because fatherhood was a precious gift.
One I’d wanted for a long time.
I’d grown up assuming I’d one day be a loving dad like my own. Then, for most of my adult life, I’d wanted nothing more than a loving marriage and kids.
But at every turn, life got in the way.
During law school and for those first few years after, I spent a lot of time at home, helping Dylan care for Liam after his birth father abandoned them. I was there when he lost his first tooth, and I had the honor of teaching him to ride a bike. It filled me up in the best ways.
That kid was amazing. My sister was amazing. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything.
But they were brutal. Law school, the bar, then the beginning of my career. It took so much out of me.
I loved what I did, and I was proud of the career I’d built. But I was over forty now. I’d built a life, yet I’d missed some of the essentials along the way.
Memories and regrets and what-ifs raced through me as I thought about Jess and her daughters.
I’d ensure Jess was successful in court. But more than that, I wanted her and her daughters to soar, to have everything they’d ever wanted. Then I wanted to rub it in the face of the bastard who’d discarded them.
“Lo,” I called over the walkie-talkie Cal had insisted we use when we needed our paralegal’s assistance.
I’d cleaned up quickly, slipped back into my Oxford, and gotten back to work, and already, my frustration was growing again.
A moment later, she appeared in my doorway with Murphy at her side. Both looked at me with austere expressions, though it was difficult to take them seriously when Murphy’s mouth was tinged blue.
“Slushy today?” I asked.
Murphy nodded. He looked just like Cal, with the same dark hair and blue eyes, but his personality couldn’t be more different.
His dad was the most easygoing person I knew.
Life was all fun and games for my friend and business partner.
Murphy, on the other hand, was more stoic than any seven-year-old had the right to be.
Though he’d loosened up a bit in the nine months or so since he’d come to live with Cal.
“When are we going to finish the Dark Falcon?” he asked.
One of the benefits of our communal living arrangement was that T.
J. and Murphy loved building with Legos as much as I did.
Growing up, we’d never had money for them, but I’d found my love as an adult.
If I was too tired to run or hit the bag, I’d sit at the ping-pong table and focus on a set to unwind.
“Soon.” I grimaced. “I’m a bit swamped.”
He nodded. “That will make it easy to finish before you. Then you’ll have to wear the crown again.”
I winced. The stupid tiara. The day Jess walked into my office, I’d been wearing it.
For months, we’d had competitions. If the boys built a set faster than I did, they forced all sorts of ridiculous things on me.
I’d worn reindeer antlers around the holidays, and honestly, I’d happily trade the tiara if I could have them back.
“How about this?” I asked. “If you and T. J. help me out and finish the Star Wars sets we’ve started, I’ll go pick up the Infinity Gauntlet this weekend.”
His eyes bulged, but the kid didn’t make a sound. This was actually a pretty big display of excitement for the typically aloof boy. Without a word, he turned and ran out of my office at a speed that easily could have left holes in the gold carpet.
Lo shook her head as she watched him go, her blue-tinted lips twitching. When she turned back, though, her expression was serious. “When were you gonna tell us?”
I lifted one shoulder. “What was the point? Sully already told everyone.” He and I were roommates in law school, and he’d been my best friend since.
So, naturally, he knew about Jess. More than once, I’d confided in him over one-dollar beers, giving him far too much information about the one that got away.
And he had been reminding me of it ever since.
“But I would have liked to hear it from you,” she replied, her expression one of genuine disappointment.
Lo was by far the best paralegal the firm employed.
It’s why I’d literally begged her to move to Jersey with us.
I couldn’t imagine another person in her position taking on the work required to keep up with not only my caseload, but Sully’s and Cal’s.
But more than that, over the years, she’d become a friend. And I trusted her with my life.
Yet here we stood, staring at one another, caught in a standoff I had no hope of winning.
“Ms. Mosely and I dated in college,” I explained, going for casual. “I was a bit… surprised when she walked in.”
She raised one eyebrow, silently urging me to get on with the full story.
“It never hit me that the yoga teacher you’re always raving about—”
“Was your first love?” she interrupted.
My heart lurched. “Um. No,” I sputtered.
“What are we talking about?” Cal appeared in the doorway, draping an arm around Lo’s shoulders. “Brian’s new client and how she’s the college girlfriend he’s been obsessed with forever?”
I glared at him. I was not obsessed. And just because my dating history had been less than stellar since didn’t mean I’d been pining for decades.
As Lo smiled up at Cal with goddamn hearts in her eyes, I waved a hand to shoo them out of my office. I could deal with only so much today.
“I’ve been going through the details of this case. We’ve got to file quickly, but first, we need several pieces of information. Can you schedule another meeting with Ms. Mosely? We need to talk strategy.”
She snorted. “Talk strategy? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
Cal practically melted into a puddle beside her. He was so smitten. It didn’t matter what she said—every time she spoke, he was enraptured.
My blood pumped with frustration, but I ignored her comment. “Her ex-husband is a piece of shit.”
“Most of them are,” she said easily. “How are we going to bury him?” The gleam in her eye was what made her my most valuable employee.
“We’re not,” I gritted out. “We’re going to do what she asked. We’re going to file for relocation, and it’ll be granted.”
Her face fell. “But the child support order—”
I held up a hand. “Is bullshit. I agree. But this is what she hired us to do.” It didn’t surprise me that Lo had combed through the files as carefully as I had and had noted several injustices.
Lo crossed her arms, her brow creasing. She might be cool and detached most of the time, but the need for justice ran deep within her. It was why she was so damn good at her job.
“You gonna ask her out?” Cal waggled his eyebrows.
“Of course not,” I snapped. “I’d be disbarred. Jesus, Cal.”
His blue eyes flashed. “We could take her case.”
Lo turned and glared at him. “You want a relo?”
“Hell no.” Cringing, he ducked out and headed down the hall.
“I’ll set that meeting up,” Lo trilled, following him. “Better get yourself together before you see her again.”