CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MATTEO
“Where have you been?” Wanita whispered harshly as I stepped up to the law secretary’s desk. “He’s not happy. You had us worried, young man.”
“I’m here now,” I said, knowing it wasn’t enough. “Besides, is he ever happy?”
“Good point.” She glared at me as she hit a button on the phone. “He’s here, I’m sending him in right now, Mr. Salvatore.”
I offered her a sheepish smile and walked into my lawyer’s office.
He was at his big, polished desk looking over paperwork.
I took a seat in the familiar leather chair and waited.
The minutes ticked by the sound of shuffling paperwork doing little to break the silence.
Finally, he set the papers in a manilla folder and hit a button on the phone.
“Can you do me a favor and notify the authorities that my ward is no longer a missing person?” He’d been speaking to Wanita, but he was looking at me, two black, cold orbs piercing my shell.
I wondered how all the lawyers he’d gone up against felt on the end of those peepers. I was thankful to have him on my side.
“I’m sorry. I–”
“Please help me understand something, Mr. Fernandez. When I told you about things moving quickly when they got going, and to keep your phone nearby, what part was I unclear about?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he rolled right over me.
“And you lied to me about maintaining your job at the grill.” His words were smooth, as if he were discussing the weather, but his dark eyes blazed with rage.
“You’re lucky your grandmother left me a sizable retainer.
As I tell all of my clients when courting me, if they want an ass-kissing, yes-man that's more than happy to put up with their bullshit, hire someone else.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Salvatore, but the building I was living in was condemned and I got sick and was in the hospital for several days.
I lost my duffle bag with all my stuff including my phone.
” It seemed like such a long time ago that I’d gone through hell.
With the help of my Pooh Bear, I’d overcome it all.
His brows sank and he leaned forward. “I had Wanita check into every hospital within thirty miles of the city.”
“I gave a fake name.”
One side of his lips stretched, and I wasn’t sure if he was amused or annoyed. He sighed softly and ran his palm across his slickened hair. “You’re healthy now?”
I nodded and tapped on the leather chair, “Claire de Lune” echoing through me. It was amazing what hope could do for the spirit. “I had strep and developed pneumonia, but I’m good now. Just a lingering cough that crops up every now and then.”
“Where are you staying?”
“With a friend. He’s been taking care of me.”
“I need this friend's contact information in case you decide to disappear again.” He clicked his expensive pen.
“Ah…”
“It’s not a request.”
“Fine, you’re going to need it anyway because I want you to take care of some stuff for me.” I tipped my chin up, refusing to be intimidated by him. I handed over Sean’s details. “I’d like you to set up an account for him. One million to start, with investment opportunities.”
He stopped what he was writing down and frowned. “This must be a close, yet undisclosed friend to give that kind of money away.”
Blowing out a breath, I glanced at the panoramic window behind him, wanting to float away on a silver cloud.
I’d been living in bliss with Sean the past few months.
I wanted to express just how important he was to me to anyone who might listen.
“I was too sick to do anything but lay in an alley, struggling to breathe with the snow burying me. That was my lowest point, believing I was going to die without having shared my gift with the world. He picked me off the cold ground, took care of me, fed, and clothed me all without asking for anything in return. He deserves the world, Mr. Salvatore.”
“Fine,” he said simply and jotted some stuff down. “Any other demands?”
“I was wondering if you might check on someone for me. Jeffrey Majors. He’d attended St. Joseph’s preparatory and would be my age. He is the boy my father caught me kissing in my room. A week after that he transferred schools. I just want to make sure he is okay.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose for a moment. “That was a rhetorical question.”
“If I have to set aside some of the money to retain you I’ll do it since you won’t disclose how much Nana left you.”
He chuckled darkly. “You speak as if you have any money to retain me with.”
I gaped, not sure how to respond.
“There is a reason I was so worried when you’d gone missing.”
“You, worried?”
“Don’t mouth off to me right now, Mr. Fernandez.” He let his pen fall on the pad of paper with a thump and sighed. “Your parents made their move.”
I zoned out on the skyline looming behind him, wanting to be anywhere but here. Preferably wherever Sean was. I said carefully, “What’s their plan?”
“Exactly what we thought it would be. They’re challenging your mental state.”
I blew out a breath and nodded, tears pricking my eyes. Why was it so hard for my parents to love me? Instead, I was a creature they needed to destroy.
He leaned forward, his eyes blazing with dark excitement as if he were looking forward to the fight.
“I’m not particularly worried. Let me tell you why.
For one, it’s a flimsy tactic to challenge someone's mental state because they ran away to a friend's house for a few hours. That’s what teenagers do. More importantly, we lucked out. I’m familiar with the judge assigned to your case.
A friend that is close with them informed me they are not happy.
He mentioned the pressure came down from the top for them to mediate.
There is also the question of legality. Your parents influenced someone to bend the rules.
If I took an in depth look at the details, I’m betting they bought someone off to get your case in front of a mediator. ”
“Of course they did. My father is in a lot of people's pockets. That’s why he wanted me to go to law school because lawyers make excellent politicians.”
“It’s the skill in twisting the truth,” he said, a rare grin twitching on his lips.
“He had so many grand plans for me,” I said absently, trying to imagine what my life would be like if I was straight.
“I don’t want you stressing about this. The hearing isn’t until the end of March. What I want you to do is stay glued to your phone. And get a job. Do that for me and I’ll fulfill your requests. Can you do that, Mr. Fernandez?”
“Yes.” I zoned out as he said some more things about the upcoming hearing. I was going to see my parents for the first time in three years and I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Alright, that’s it for now. We will get together before the hearing and go over a few things.”
I got up and dragged my feet toward the door. “Mr. Salvatore? Is it possible to have someone sit in with me? Like, for support?”
“This friend you mentioned, I’m assuming? I’ll talk to the judge and put in the request, but I don’t see it being an issue.”
I gulped in much needed oxygen. “I want to say thank you for all that you’ve done. You’ve always gone farther than you had to so thank you.”
“I wish you would have thought of that when you found yourself homeless,” he said coldly. For an instant, I thought I might have hurt his feelings, but it was gone as he pegged me with hard eyes. “If you want to thank me, be available when I need you to be.”
Figuring that was the best I was going to get, I left his office and headed home. I needed to have a serious talk with Sean, and I had no idea how to approach the issue.
I walked into Sean's apartment. He was sitting on the couch, nursing his clay mug of tea.
He passed me a smile that let me know he was happy to see me.
It was the same look that crossed my Nana's face when I came over to visit.
I realized the feeling was being welcomed home and it made me all warm and fuzzy inside.
I took a long look at him, desperate to sink my cock deep into his ass, and lose myself except I needed to focus on more important things right now. “Can we have a serious talk?”
He scooted over and patted the seat next to him.
I shrugged out of my jacket and pushed my boots off. I plopped my ass on the cushion and leaned in to kiss his shoulder. “Did you miss me?”
He cocked a brow. “Desperately, seeing as there is a load of dishes that need to get done.”
“So, you only keep me around to do your dishes and laundry?” I hedged, needing the fun, sweet bickering.
“Well, not the only reason. You give good head and getting better every time,” he teased and stretched out his arm behind me.
I chuckled and bit my lip in indecision. Getting lost in him for an hour or two was appealing.
“What’s up? What did you want to talk about?”
I took a moment to pull up the mental list of things to discuss with him. “You never asked what my situation was, just listened when I needed you to. But I want to explain things.”
“Okay. My listening ears are on.”
“One of the issues that caused so much strife between my parents and I is the fact that my grandmother left everything she had to me. Her house and her money. It was put into a trust until I turned twenty-one, which is fast approaching. Needless to say, they’ve been challenging my inheritance for years. ”
He shifted toward me, and absently stroked my shoulder. I wondered if he was unaware of what he was doing or if it was just a natural reaction. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.”
I bunched my shoulders up. “My father views my actions as a betrayal, so he is doing everything in his power to take what Nana left me. She gave my lawyer some money to take care of my inheritance and he’s a pit bull in court so I’m not overly worried about losing.
He insists they’re grasping at straws and have no real case.
But my father lined the pockets of important people with power and manipulated the legal system to request a hearing to determine my competency. ”
He sighed on a huff and dug his fingers into his jeans. “I’m trying to be useful and listen, but I really want to punch your father in the face right now.”
I grinned. “That’s sweet.”
He rolled his eyes. “When is the court date?”
“End of March. We will plead our cases to a mediator, and they will make the decision. My lawyer thinks they will rule in my favor. But…the reason I’m telling you all this is because I wanted to ask you to be my support system.
I keep telling myself I don’t give a shit what my father thinks, but honestly?
I’m terrified of seeing him again. And—”
“You don’t have to ask twice. I’ll be there.”
I squeezed his warm thigh and leaned into him, beyond grateful to have him in my life. He pulled me in and kissed the top of my head. I felt precious in his arms, as if he’d miss me if I went away.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, holding back the tears.
“I think you know that I care about you,” he said.
I nodded against him. I thought he wanted to say more because he made several breathy sounds as if he were going to speak. Eventually, he said, “I tried calling my parents the other day.”
I gave him my attention, his beautiful green eyes glassy, his emotions plain in his expression. I wanted to be someone he could talk to the same way he was for me.
“I used to call once a year to let them know I was still alive. The conversation was always brief, and I was promptly informed that unless I wished to repent, they had nothing to say to me. I hadn’t called in three years until now.
The number is disconnected. I have no idea if they’re still alive and I suppose I’m too afraid of knowing because if something happened to them, then that means I lost my chance to reconnect no matter how improbable it might be. ”
By the time he was done speaking, he was in tears. I pulled him close and he cuddled up against me, his face buried against my chest.
“We’re even,” I teased gently as I ran my fingers through his hair. “I got to slobber all over you, now you get to slobber all over me.”
He chuckled and we held onto each other for a long time.