40. SIENNA
SIENNA
I'm nervous.
I've been nervous since I woke up.
The last time I had a meeting with lawyers I borrowed a blazer from Charlie. A different version of myself for the occasion.
Today I'm in jeans and a clean shirt. I'm not doing that again.
I know what I'm walking into. I've sat across from Paula before. This is just a different office with a different lawyer. I know exactly what I'm here to do and I've been ready to do it for weeks.
The assistant walks me through the reception area. The carpet is thick and quiet. The walls are covered in dark tones and mahogany wood.
So different from the first lawyers offices, that were mainly glass that let the sun light in.
So different from Adrian’s office.
I miss him.
I wish he was here. It would be so much easier. But I am alone.
The truth is I miss all three of them.
Yesterday, the conversation with Charlie helped to put things into perspective.
We were all operating inside incomplete pictures, decisions made on half-truths and silence stacked on silence. Nothing good could come out of that.
But looking back at the wreckage of it, I can also see that’s how my road to freedom started.
The assistant opens the door to the conference room.
Paula is already seated at the long conference table. Her lawyer stands and extends his hand. He's about sixty, silver-haired, controlled.
"Ms. Cross. I'm Arthur White. Can I get you water, coffee—"
"Let's get this over with," Paula says.
I look at Arthur and smile. "I'm fine, thank you."
I take my seat across from Paula. She doesn't look at me. Arthur sits back down and slides a document folder toward me and says "Since you both already agreed with—"
A knock at the door.
Arthur's face tightens with irritation. "Come in."
The door opens. The assistant takes one step to the side and says, "Ms. Cross's lawyer is here."
And Adrian walks in.
My heartbeat does something it has no business doing.
He's wearing a charcoal suit, no tie, top button open, and he looks exactly like himself and nothing like the last time I saw him.
Sharp. Controlled. Ready.
His eyes find mine the second he's through the door and although they're focused I can see the dark circles under them.
I hope he's eating. I hope he's taking care of himself.
He crosses to Arthur, handshake, professional, already running the room without raising his voice.
"Arthur, before we start I'd like a word with my client."
Paula makes a sound under her breath. "Preposterous."
Arthur gestures vaguely.
Adrian turns to me.
He says, quietly, "Please."
There is this undercurrent of emotion that envelops us. I am standing up and following him to the corridor before I really think about it.
The door closes behind us. The sound of it sealing off the room, Paula, Arthur, all of it.
Adrian looks at me and his expression is controlled in the way that takes real effort. I can see the effort. The line of his jaw. The set of his shoulders.
"This is not an ambush." His voice is careful. Each word placed with care. "You shouldn't sign any documents without a lawyer present. Regardless of what you feel about me, I will represent your interests to the best of my abilities."
"How did you know about this meeting?" I ask.
"I took the liberty of checking your legal situation after what we—" He hesitates. "I'm here if you want my help."
My heart is beating too fast. He checked. He's been monitoring what I need, from a distance, without contact, without any guarantee I would let him in, and he came anyway.
"Okay," I say.
He gives me a smile with nothing happy in it. Acknowledgment. Deal confirmed. He puts his hand back on the door handle and then turns back.
"Are you sure you don't want any of the assets?" he asks.
"I just want Cross Manor and the property."
He nods once and opens the door.
We go back in. He puts his hand briefly on my elbow, guiding me away from my original seat to the one beside him, and I feel his touch everywhere.
He sits down across from Paula without looking at her and says to Arthur, "Can I see the documents?" Arthur slides them across the table.
Adrian reads.
I watch him read.
The focus is complete. Nothing exists for him right now except the pages. He turns each one at a deliberate pace, jaw set in concentration. His hands on the paper. Long fingers, slow, precise.
I can still feel his touch on my elbow.
He finishes. Slides the stack across to me. Our fingers make contact for half a second when I take the papers and I look down at them immediately.
"Everything seems okay," he says. "Read through. If you're satisfied, sign."
I read. He was right to come. Three dense pages of legal qualification I would have moved through too fast on my own. I take my time. Everything seems correct. I sign.
Done.
Adrian stands, nods at Arthur, minimal but adequate. I stand and do the same.
We leave the conference room. The door closes behind us, the corridor is quiet and that chapter of my life is finished.
I turn to him in the corridor. "Thank you for coming. I thought I could do this alone. But it was good to have you in my corner."
His eyes soften, he looks deeply to mine. "I will always be in your corner.” He takes a deep breath in, ”I know I wasn't—" He stops. Tries again. "Can we go somewhere to talk? There are some other legal issues I want to discuss with you."
Legal issues. That’s all we have between us now. I feel the disappointment arrive and settle in.
"Yes," I say.
The elevator is quiet. He stands close enough that I'm aware of the warmth of him without us touching. I look at the floor numbers. He looks at the floor numbers. Neither of us says anything.
In the lobby he says, "There's a small coffee shop just on the corner," and I nod.
Outside is ordinary. Cars passing. Someone with a grocery bag. A dog. The coffee shop is small and dim, four tables, a window with the street going by outside. We take the table at the back. A server comes. We order. His coffee comes black. Mine comes with milk.
Adrian goes straight into working mode, "Regarding the trespassing charge," he says, formally. "I worked out a deal. You'll do community service." A brief, dry almost-smile. "Which was what you were already doing in a way. The ironies of the legal world."
"Thank you," I say. "You didn't need to do that."
"Yes, I did."
He straightens. Runs one hand through his hair, the first break in his posture all morning. Settles his hand flat on the table.
"Regarding the other matter. The juvenile record." A pause. "Although it's sealed, I'm trying to work something out with Judge Richard Holloway to get it expunged."
He says it almost in one breath. Like he had to get it out before he stopped himself. Like he needed to get it out. And now that he did he seems hollow.
I reach across and put my hand on top of his.
He looks at our hands joined on top of the table and then he looks at me.
"Sienna." Low. Almost nothing. "Believe me when I say we had the best intentions. We believed you were really on a spiral and would end up hurting yourself and others. We thought Greenhaven was the best for you at the moment." His jaw works. "We never thought—"
I take my hand away.
His hand stays on the table where I left it.
I know they're good men. I have no doubt about it. But, they hurt me.
"I need some time to process all of this," I say.
I can see that my words hit Adrian hard. But I can’t take his pain now. I need to heal my own first.
Adrian clenches his jaw and nods in understanding.
I don't want to stand up. I want to stay in this dim ordinary room with the traffic outside and Adrian across from me.
It takes all the strength that I have left, to stand up, look at Adrian and say “Take care Adrian.”
And then I leave.