Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Maggie
My desk wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest my head, but my head wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place to be in at present, so I figured I didn’t owe it any comfort anyway.
With my cheek pressed against the dark walnut surface, I stared blankly at the pictures arranged tauntingly on my desk.
The case was over, and while I had plenty of others to focus on, Mr. Reilly’s had been special to me. Now that we’d come to a conclusion, I was allowing myself a few minutes to wallow before throwing myself into the next thing to distract myself from how utterly miserable I was.
A coworker appeared at my door, peering at me with either amusement or judgment. I didn’t know, or care.
“What do you want, Brian? I’m clearly in the middle of something here,” I responded.
“There’s someone here for you. Should I tell them to go away?”
“A client?” I said, picking my head up. “Why didn’t the secretary call down?”
“Secretary left. Everyone left. It’s almost six,” he said. “I was on my way out myself. It’s the only reason I saw the guy.”
I glanced up at the clock, realizing he was right. The game hadn’t started yet, but it would soon. Brody was there now, getting ready to play what might be his last game in Boston.
I didn’t want to hear a thing about it. I figured it would be better not to know if they qualified or not. If it was truly his last night here or not. Like waiting for disaster to strike, it was better to not know when it might happen.
So, the way I saw it, the longer I lingered in the office, the better.
“Send him in, then.”
“I’m not your errand boy, Brynn.”
“Well, you’re on your way out anyway, aren’t you?” I fluttered my lashes dramatically.
He waved a hand dismissively and turned to leave, but a moment later the client in question was standing in my doorway, causing me to stand from my seat in surprise.
“Mr. Reilly? What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to come so late,” he said. “I just got off of work or I would’ve been here earlier.”
“No, it’s fine,” I assured him. “Please, sit down.”
“Oh, no, I won’t be here long. I just wanted to—” He took his hat off, twisting it between his hands. “Well, I’m not very good with words. But I really just wanted to let you know how grateful I am for everything you did for my family.”
I blinked my surprise.
“It was nothing,” I told him. “It’s what any lawyer would’ve done.”
“No.” He shook his head adamantly. “You’re something special, Ms. Brynn. You better believe that.”
“Well, thank you,” I told him.
Like him, I was also a woman of few words. And both of us were clearly not wanting to get any more emotional than we already were.
“Anyways,” he said, holding out a small gift bag in my direction. “This is for you.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to—”
He held up a hand in protest.
“It’s nothing special. Maybe nothing to you at all. But I just figured, if you ever wanted to know if your work matters, you can take a look at this and remember how you changed my life for the better.”
I reached in delicately, pulling out the framed photograph of Mr. Reilly, his children, and Brody.
I stared down, feeling the tears well in my eyes. I held the photo against my chest, touched that he wanted to share this piece of his family with me forever.
“I love it,” I said honestly. “Thank you.”
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, shifting on his feet.
“That young man of yours is lucky to have ya,” he said. “And trust an old guy like me, he knows it.”
I laughed. “He’s not—”
“The way he looks at you,” Mr. Reilly nodded in confirmation of something only he seemed to know. “That’s when it’s real for a man.”
“It’s real for me, too.”
“I can tell.” He grinned. “Two kids in love are about the least subtle people in the world. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
I offered a half-smile, holding the picture against my chest.
“Anyway, thank you. Again. I’ll always remember what you did for me.”
And I’ll always remember what you did for me.
Inadvertently, but nevertheless, I had to admit a lot of the reflection in my life as of late had been a direct result of working on his case.
He’d shown me what a father’s love was supposed to look like. He reminded me what I fought for in my career, why my work was important.
And somehow, after all that, I’d realized how utterly stupid I’d been to have spent so much of my life running.
“Thank you, Mr. Reilly,” I told him, knowing he would never understand the depths of my gratitude toward him. “It’s been the absolute honor of my career working with you.”
“Well, I’ll be off then.” He nodded at me. “You take care of yourself, Ms. Brynn. And take care of that young man of yours.”
I couldn’t say anything, so I nodded back at him and watched him go.