Chapter 15
PAIGE
In silence, Max is driving me to my house because I don’t have a car and Marin’s here.
When she should be in Las Vegas.
Instead, she’s here in San Francisco.
Standing outside my gated house and reading the riot act through the security camera on my phone app.
If anyone is going to start a riot, it will be me.
How dare she show up unannounced, demanding to see me when she hasn’t even bothered to ask how Alfie is in over six months.
The only time she has contacted me by text was to ask for money.
For months, I’ve ignored her requests. For months, I’ve secretly prayed that all she ever asks for is money because losing Alfie will destroy me.
And her being here now can only mean one of two things. She’s either here to ask for money, because that’s what she does when she’s desperate, or she’s here to take Alfie back.
My stomach rolls, and I place my hand over it. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” If Marin wants Alfie, she’ll have to get through me first. She doesn’t have a permanent home to keep him safe, nor money to feed or even clothe him.
“Do you need me to stop?” Max asks, sounding concerned and showing a caring side to him I didn’t think he was capable of.
“No. Thank you. I just want to go home, as quickly as possible, please.” My voice is weak and small, uncertain even. I don’t know what I’m about to come face-to-face with when I arrive at my house, and the last thing I want to do is discuss it with Max Hart.
Max and I don’t engage in idle chitchat. Never. When we work on divorce cases, we are either professionally civil in front of our clients or clashing behind their backs. There is no in between. Any contact between us is minimal, mainly to protect our sanity.
Unbeknownst to him, I hate every minute of being in his car because it means I’m opening the door and dragging him into my personal life. But that’s okay; I’ll just tell him to drop me off and leave. There’s no reason for him to stay.
Only my close friends know about Marin and when I told Emma, my nanny, about the circumstances around Alfie being my nephew and not my own baby, it made me feel exposed and vulnerable.
I didn’t want anyone to know that my sister had abandoned her own son, and I feared being judged by association.
I’m still not sure who I was trying to protect: myself, my sister, or maybe both of us. Maybe it was just embarrassment.
But now, I’m thankful I had the foresight to prepare her for the tornado that is Marin. Thankfully, Emma is sharp and resourceful. As soon as she saw my sister on the security cameras I installed shortly after Marin left Alfie on my doorstep, she messaged me immediately and refused her entry.
My house is impenetrable, and there is no chance of Marin climbing the new ten-foot iron gate I installed at the same time as the security cameras anyway, because she looks like skin and bone with not a thing about her suggesting strength to scale my fortress.
“You know you can talk to me, Paige, and tell me anything.” Max offers himself up as a sounding board. “You know me, and anything you say won’t go outside of this car. I promise.”
“Thanks,” I reply quietly, understanding his need to be curious, but I value discretion when it comes to my personal affairs, and while I trust Max, I’m not ready to divulge anything. Not unless I have to.
“I’m right here if you need to talk.”
I close my phone quietly and return it to my workbag.
I have a camera installed at the bottom of my driveway, covering the entrance to the house, and watching my sister screaming and shouting at the camera gives me anxiety. She’s relentless, and she’s making my heart race faster than a racehorse.
I sigh, laying my head back against the headrest of Max’s limited edition Ford GT that most likely cost the same as my house, and stare out into the distance, watching the traffic pass by in a blur.
“You shouldn’t be taking me home, Max.”
“Why not?”
“Because we are representing opposing sides, husband and wife, Tate and Stella Young, and we shouldn’t be spending any time together socially during an active case. It’s unethical and a serious conflict of interest.”
Max ignores me and proceeds to make a call. He’s a law unto himself sometimes, carving his own path and making his own rules.
“Hey, Max.” A female’s voice floats through the in-car speakers.
I roll my eyes. He’s most likely organizing a booty call for the night. Talk about inappropriate timing.
“Hey, Stella, how are you?”
Oh, I was wrong; he called Stella Young, and now I feel like an idiot for assuming the worst.
“I’m good. Any updates on the child custody proposal?”
“Yes. And it’s all very positive. Ms. Bradshaw and Mr. Young are happy with the terms we sent.”
Max turns right where I point for him to do so.
“That’s great.” She sighs with relief. “I just want this to be over.”
“It will be soon. Don’t worry, Stella.” He clears his throat confidently as he drives down the winding streets toward my neighborhood.
“I’m calling for a reason. I just wanted to let you know I’m currently in the car with Ms. Bradshaw.
She had a family emergency during our meeting to discuss your child custody proposal.
Her car is still in the garage, and I’m taking her home.
Full disclosure, I wanted you to know. We haven’t discussed your case outside of the office, we’re not socializing, and I am loyal to you.
I promise there is no wrongdoing. Do you trust me?
” Max looks my way and offers a gentle smile.
It’s warm and stirs something inside me that feels similar to how I felt the night at The Velvet Rooms when I shared a kiss, and did so much more with someone I barely knew.
“Max.” Stella almost laughs down the speaker. “Of course I trust you, and please pass on my regards to Ms. Bradshaw. I hope everything is okay.”
“She’s listening right now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Young.” I pick at my nails, nervous about how close we are to my house now. I’m not ready to face Marin, but I have no choice.
“Oh, please call me Stella.”
“Thanks, Stella.”
“Speak to you tomorrow, Stella.” Max rounds up the call and hangs up when she says goodbye.
“That was easy.” He pushes his car a bit harder, making the engine sound like it’s snarling, with the high-pitched, sharp turbo whooshing during acceleration that sounds more like a scream than a roar.
“Thank you for the lift and for calling Stella. I appreciate it more than you know.” He saved my ass and my job.
Unless the case is settled or closed, it’s against the rules for us to meet outside a professional setting, and I will need to call Tate and explain the same thing to him that Max just told Stella. I’ll do that later.
First, I need to deal with my unruly sister.
I’m ready to talk now. “I have something to tell you.” I may as well prepare Max for what’s around the corner.
“Is this about the screaming woman on your screen who looked like she was about to pop a vein in her neck?” Ah, so he did notice. Great.
“Yes. That’s my sister,” I finally admit.
He sounds surprised when he asks, “You have a sister?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do,” I tell him, trying to sound chipper, but inside I’m dreading seeing her for the first time in years. She didn’t even have the decency to say hello, or even explain herself when she left Alfie on my doorstep.
“Is there a reason for that?”
“She has problems.” It’s weird how two people can be created from the same couple and yet be so very different. “Addiction,” I say non-specifically.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“So am I. My poor parents gave up on her a long time ago.” As did I.
“Are your parents nearby?” he asks, using this moment of forced closeness as a chance to ask me everything.
I don’t usually talk about my life, ever.
But oddly, there’s a sense of relief in opening up to someone who doesn’t really know me.
It feels safer, somehow, and I find myself appreciating how kind he’s being, even though I’m often on edge around him: sharp, guarded, maybe even a little cruel.
But to be fair, I give back exactly what he gives me, so I can’t really blame him for how things have been between us.
“They live at an independent living community not far from here. They visit me when they can, and I visit them on the weekends with Alfie, her son, who they adore. Oh, if you slow down here,” I tell Max.
“My neighborhood is third right, and my house is the one with the wailing banshee outside of it, about halfway down on the left.”
My description of my sister makes him laugh and for the next few minutes, we cruise in comfortable silence until we finally arrive outside my house in front of the gates that are doing their job of keeping Marin out of my house and away from Alfie.
“Is there anything I should know before I get out of this car?” He unlocks the doors of his fancy car while I have a stare-off through the windshield with my sister who looks madder than a chef with a broken stove.
“She’s mean, has a real sting in her tail, and is permanently angry with the world.”
“Just like you sometimes then?”
Smiling nervously, I run my clammy palms down the fabric of my skirt. This is not the time for jokes, but I appreciate his effort to lighten my heavy mood. “You never give up, do you?”
“I’m just fucking with you, and you’re too easy sometimes.”
He’s right; I play right into his hands often.
It’s not like Marin can hear us, but he drops his voice anyway. “You don’t look like her if that’s any consolation.”
“That’s because she doesn’t even look like herself.
” Not anymore. Marin was once a beautiful woman, curves in all the right places with the rosiest of cheeks, which Alfie has inherited.
But now she’s a shadow of her former self, skin and bone and in need of a good hearty meal.
She also used to look well put together, but now she looks dreadful, terrifying even. There’s no other word for it.