Chapter 7
Jess
“Sorry,” I said, my pulse picking up. Nervous, I smoothed down my skirt. It was bright blue and covered with daisies. I’d felt compelled to dress up for this meeting, though I had no idea why. With all the time I’d spent in lawyers’ offices over the past few years, the novelty had long worn off.
“It’s no problem,” Lo said. “The girls can hang here for as long as you need.”
Kit and Greta sat at the conference table, pulling their homework from their backpacks. They’d gotten used to tagging along these days and were old enough to keep themselves busy.
Lo encouraged me to sit and handed me a stack of paperwork to fill out.
It was interesting, seeing her in her natural environment rather than the yoga studio.
While I was used to seeing her in athletic clothes and with her hair pulled up messily, today, she was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and a black pencil skirt, with her deep red hair pulled back in a tight braid.
I had just started to fill out the paperwork when a figure appeared in the doorway and boomed, “Yoga Jess!” Though his voice was deep, Callahan Murphy’s eyes were lit up and his smile was huge as he darted toward me like an overexcited puppy and swept me into a hug, lifting me off my feet.
Initially, I’d been deceived by the posh British accent and expensive athletic wear. Though it didn’t take long to realize that this man was the antithesis of the stuck-up prick I assumed he was when we were introduced.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
He’d just set me on my feet when the sound of a throat clearing caused us all to turn to the doorway again.
Cal was handsome, sure, but the man standing in the doorway, his auburn hair just a shade lighter than his trimmed beard, stole my breath.
Brian was tall, with broad shoulders. Though he typically wore a stern expression, on occasion, when a person had really earned it, a dimple in his right cheek would appear.
Initially, I couldn’t see how Cal and Lo were compatible. They were opposites in every way. But by the time they’d left that first yoga class, I understood. The two of them were more in sync than any couple I’d ever met, and they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another.
“Yoga Jess saved my life,” Cal explained, pulling me into his side protectively.
Brian frowned.
“She single-handedly fixed my back pain. You know”—he squinted—“because you make me sit at a desk all day.”
Eyes closed, Brian sighed. “You’re a lawyer, Cal. It’s what we do.”
The golden retriever who still hadn’t let me go smiled down at me, his energy infectious. “We don’t wanna lose her. But I can’t blame her. Vermont sounds amazing.”
It was. And his comment was a good reminder. I was fighting this battle, pushing to move to Vermont, so I could give my kids something different. So they’d have community and family and the kind of support they didn’t even know existed.
Yes, leaving would be hard. But staying felt impossible.
I’d had more than my fair share of meetings with lawyers over the past few years, but none of them could hold a candle to Brian. I’d only recently come here for his help, and already, he’d done more work than Will did in the weeks he swore he was prepping for the request.
They’d recently received the files I’d consented to having sent over from Higgins, Smith and Dodge, and because, as Brian explained, sending emails back and forth could get costly, since he billed by the hour, I came in equipped with a list of questions, hoping this would be the most efficient way to move forward.
“You can send the girls upstairs,” Brian said. “The boys are playing and Sloane is with the baby.”
Apprehension blossomed in my chest. “I couldn’t…”
“Nah,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Girls, follow me. You hungry?”
My daughters lit up, as if I hadn’t fed them a snack on the way over, and were all smiles as they packed up their homework and followed him up the back stairs.
I shuffled behind them, suspicious. They weren’t usually this compliant.
Though I could see how the promise of snacks and an escape from law office boredom could be tempting.
Lo had warned me of their unconventional living arrangement, but I wasn’t quite prepared for what we found on the second floor.
The living space was large, with a ping-pong table set up in the middle, and there were plants everywhere.
Two small boys sat on top of the ping-pong table, heads down and intent on their Lego creations.
Sloane, I assumed—since she’d been rushed to the hospital before our first meeting at Higgins, Smith and Dodge and we hadn’t actually met—was dressed in loungewear, with a newborn curled up on her chest.
“T. J., Murphy,” Brian said. “How’s the X-wing fighter coming along?”
The boys looked up in unison. The one with slightly lighter hair bounced in place and held up a half-built plane, wearing a toothless grin. “So awesome. Can you help us with the last part?”
“After my meeting, bud.” Brian’s face softened in a way that reminded me of the guy I’d known so well twenty years ago. “These are my friends Kit and Greta. They’re gonna hang here and play for a while, okay?”
Greta had already approached the table, thoughtfully studying the Lego set the boys were working on. Kit was at my side, silently taking in the scene.
“Do you need to start your homework?” I asked gently.
With a nod, she slid her backpack off her shoulders.
Sloane stood from an oversized chair and approached. “It’s nice to meet you, Jess. I’m so glad you’re working with Brian. Sorry I missed the meeting. This happened.”
I peered down at the tiny baby dressed in shades of pink. “She is beautiful. Congratulations.”
Sloane ducked, inspecting the infant, and broke into the most joyous of smiles. “Thank you.”
As I checked on both girls, that apprehension returned. “Are you sure it’s okay if I leave them?”
“Of course. Didn’t you know? We’re running an unofficial daycare up here.” She laughed lightly. “After school, the boys hang out with Tia and me.”
“We interviewed a couple of nannies,” Brian said, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, but none were good enough for Cal’s standards. That man is the definition of a helicopter parent.” Sloane’s eyes twinkled with affection.
I huffed a laugh. “I get it, but now that it’s just the three of us, it’s nearly impossible to get by without hiring a sitter here and there. Though my girls can be prickly about new people, so I only use it as a last resort.”
“They seem fine here.” Brian arched his brows, looking around the room.
Greta had climbed up onto the ping-pong table alongside the boys and was fully engaged in building. Kit had made her way to the kitchen island and was already working on her math homework.
Swallowing thickly, I took in the scene. The slightly shabby but clean space, my kids hanging out in a strange location, with kids they’d never met, like it was no big deal, and my attorney-slash-ex-boyfriend tilting his head, silently signaling that I should follow him back down the stairs.
Had I fallen through some kind of wormhole?
By the time we were sitting across from one another in Brian’s office, me holding a cup of herbal tea he insisted on making for me, I was mildly recovered.
It was a shock to my system, how easy that transition had been.
Nothing in my life had gone according to plan in years, and apparently, I’d forgotten what it felt like.
I was used to endless fuck-ups, bad luck, and constantly triaging the problems that popped up so we could move on to the basics.
My normal consisted of showing up at work with dirty hair because the hot water heater had died. And it often included forgetting the cookies I’d promised for the bake sale and calming Kit as she had a meltdown because she couldn’t find her favorite scrunchie.
Brian settled with his forearms on his desk, a crease between his brows. “Is the tea okay?”
“Yes,” I said, bringing myself back to the moment. “It’s delicious.”
We sat there, sort of staring at one another, the air between us growing just a tad bit awkward. Though it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Sipping from my mug, I took the opportunity to admire Brian’s suit. This one was dark gray with a faint pinstripe. His black tie was thin, and the crisp white shirt accentuated his tanned, freckled skin and his beard.
His auburn facial hair was threaded with just a hint of silver, which only made him look more serious and distinguished.
Ostensibly we were here for my legal case. But I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering. Was he single? He didn’t wear a ring.
A quick scan of his desk revealed no family photos.
Not that I’d have a snowball’s chance in hell. Brian surely dated worldly, sophisticated women with impressive careers and long legs. They probably went to the opera and talked about their favorite caviar.
For most of my life, I’d been pretty confident and comfortable in my own skin.
Like all humans, I had my flaws, but I was a good person and took care of myself and others.
But since relatively early on in my marriage, I’d felt less and less like the confident, sunny woman who had dated Brian all those years ago.
I was a hot mess single mom now. With wide hips, ex-husband drama, and no time to myself. What I had to offer wasn’t exactly enticing.
I looked down at the mug I was holding. It was navy blue, with the scales of justice etched into the ceramic, along with World’s Okayest Lawyer.
“Cal gave it to me when I became a named partner in the firm,” he explained.
Dragging my focus away from it, I smiled. “I think you’re a lot better than okay.”
Two pink patches appeared on his cheeks above his beard as he smoothed down his tie and cleared his throat. “We should get to work.”
If I’d had a choice in how to spend this time with Brian, I wouldn’t have picked reliving all my past choices and the absolute hell that was my divorce.