Lorcan (Daddy for Christmas 3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Lorcan

“Lorcan Abernathy, the jury has found you not guilty. I hereby release you.” The judge pounded her gavel.

The sound reverberated through my chest.

I turned to my lawyer, Arnav Mehta, and held out my hand.

He shook it.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’ll find ways. Like I can always use a babysitter.

” Panic must’ve shown on my face, because he quickly added, “Just kidding. The kids are newly arrived, and we’d never leave them with a stranger.

But you never know when something else might come up.

Look, you’re under no obligation. Legal aid paid for the representation.

You were innocent. We got the right outcome. ”

I’d known I was innocent—but no one had believed me.

No one until Arnav.

“I don’t know what to do.” As I stood there, I barely had the clothes on my back, let alone a job or anything to return to.

He considered me for a long moment. “I have a suggestion.”

“What?” Eagerness rose within me. Anything. I would do anything.

“You know my husband is a construction foreperson, right? Working on not-for-profit housing projects.”

“Yes.” I’d known Foster Coates by reputation. He now went by Foster Mehta and was taking a leave of absence to look after their two new foster children.

“He arranged for Riley Conway to take over his latest project and is looking for someone to lead the drywall crew on the new housing development they’re building in downtown Mission—”

“I’ll take it. Oh God, would they really hire me?” I’d been living under a cloud of suspicion for more than a year. I really needed a fresh start.

He held my gaze. “You used to own a construction company and do huge subdivision projects. This is a hell of a step down.”

“I don’t care.” And I truly didn’t. “Look, we know there’s no company left for me to run. Midas Construction is dust.”

The construction company I’d owned with my husband had once been the envy of the industry. We built high-end luxury houses on acres of land in exclusive subdivisions. We made huge profits because our clients were willing to pay almost any price for having the best of everything.

“Yeah, I figured as much. Riley’s team pays a fair wage. You’ll be able to keep a roof over your head and maybe even start to put your life back together.” His dark-brown eyes grew flinty. “Don’t fuck this up.”

His husband’s reputation was on the line.

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.” He’d just defended me against fraud charges.

Had taken my word that I didn’t have a penny to my name.

That I didn’t have some stash I was going to access when the brouhaha died down.

All that was true. Stephen had absconded with everything he’d been able to liquidate behind my back.

He’d stolen millions from our company—and from our clients—and he’d fucked off to God knew where.

The as far as I knew, the authorities hadn’t been able to find a single trace of him.

Hell, the corporal from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who arrested me tried to prove I’d murdered my husband.

My lying, cheating, thieving husband.

Well, ex, now.

Arnav had helped me file the divorce paperwork as one of the first things I’d done. To try to distance myself from Stephen himself, not just his actions. Just before the trial began, I won my freedom from the asshole.

Not that the freedom was worth much. The not-guilty verdict was worth way more. “I won’t fuck this up. I promise.”

Slowly, he nodded. He extracted a business card from his suit-jacket pocket. “Riley is expecting your call tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” If the jury hadn’t come to a verdict, I’d have worried I’d have to wait over the weekend. Or, worse, that they’d rush the verdict just to get out of there and not have the case hanging over them during the weekend. I’d read about that.

I lucked out. Or so I believed. The jury had delivered its verdict after two agonizing days of deliberations. At ten-thirty in the morning.

“I know it’s Saturday.” Arnav offered a rueful smile. “She needs someone to start Monday morning. She’ll interview you tomorrow. Make certain you’re a good fit.”

“I will be, I swear. I’m good at taking orders. I started framing when I was eighteen. There isn’t anything on a job site I’m not familiar with.”

“Sure. You used to do houses, right? Can you do drywall, crown moldings, and baseboards?”

“Absolutely. I’ll review everything and make sure I have the right equipment.

” Just about everything had been repossessed except my personal tools and my pickup truck.

Thank God I hadn’t taken Stephen’s advice and bought a new one on financing—that would’ve been repossessed as well. Mine was old, but she was a workhorse.

“If you need anything, I’m certain Riley will provide it. You’re okay for a couple of weeks until you get your first paycheck?”

Even if I weren’t, I would’ve said I was. “Yeah, I’m okay. Truly, thank you. Thank Foster for me as well. Not just for the job, but for taking care of those beautiful children while you worked so hard.”

Arnav ran his hand through his shiny black hair.

“He got bottle duty. We’re hoping Joshua will start sleeping through the night soon.

He’s just seven months old, so we’re still feeling our way around this.

Malika’s elementary age—she’s seven—but she still has nightmares.

The social worker warned us it could be months before the kids start to feel safe. ”

I didn’t ask whether they’d be around that long. Arnav had said something about this being a temporary placement—and that social services was hoping to return the kids to their mother.

Thank God that Stephen and I never had kids. What an unmitigated disaster that would’ve been.

Didn’t stop the pang of longing—but it eased the panic in my gut. “I’ll let you go.”

“Call Riley.”

I yanked my phone out of my jacket pocket. Another thing that had been old, paid off, and that the authorities had been willing to let me keep. I still needed to get my ankle bracelet removed, and I assumed they’d return my expired passport.

“And you’ve got food?” Arnav grabbed his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Would be eating ramen and Kraft Dinner for the foreseeable future, but I’d survive. When I scraped together enough money, McDonald’s had a cheap meal I’d grab. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

He smiled ruefully. “I might have a reputation as a shark, but I’m actually just a big teddy bear.” He clapped me on the biceps. “Take care. Please keep in touch.”

“I will.”

The bailiff cleared her throat.

Arnav waved at her in acknowledgement and gestured toward the door. He met my gaze. “Your new future awaits.”

I’d never been so fucking scared.