Felix lifts a brow as he tips his bottle back. “Really? Because I seem to recall you telling me you were looking forward to Friday night so you could get all up in that. Guess that plan went in the shitter, huh?”

“Yeah, well, if I hadn’t been distracted by a nice rack and a sweet ass, I might not have missed what was going on with Emme.” Even as I say it, I feel horrible; Kailyn isn’t a piece of ass I’m tapping, and she never has been.

Felix gives me a hard look. “You sure about that? I mean, if you hadn’t been with Kailyn, you would’ve been out with me passing off the wannabe groupies you can’t be bothered with.”

He has a point. But it’s more than that. “Emme’s too attached to her.”

“And that’s a bad thing? She seems pretty stable, and she spends time with Emme willingly, without you there.”

Kailyn is stable. She’s career driven, but she makes time for the people she cares about, and she’s sure as hell made time for me and Emme. Maybe more than she should. “I’m too dependent on her, to the point where I feel like I can’t do this without her. I mean, she’s been involved since the funeral, and they made her conservator. I keep going to her, like I expect her to make things okay. What happens when the custody issue is resolved and she’s not obligated to be part of this anymore? Is she gonna bail? Emme can’t handle that, and I don’t really know if I can, either. It’s a mess. I gotta get out before I get in too deep.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think you’re already there.”

“Well, then I should cut out now. Make it just about the legal aspect. I don’t have time to juggle a relationship and Emme and work. I can barely handle Emme and work as it is.” And Kailyn has been picking up the slack for me in the Emme department when work gets in the way, which is another problem I’ll have to resolve sooner rather than later. Jesus, what the hell is even in this for her? What do I bring to the table other than a shit ton of baggage?

“Maybe you’re taking on too much. You were back to work a week after the funeral. Take some time off. It’s not like you don’t have vacation banked.”

He’s right. I have weeks of unused vacation time. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about that, too. Kailyn’s mentioned a couple of times that her boss wants me on their team.”

“Do you really want to start over when you’re close to making partner, though? Who would I have to make fun of during meetings?”

I laugh a little, but it’s flat. “You could always make fun of Gene.”

“From the tax department? Too easy.” I can feel his eyes on me. “You’re seriously considering this, aren’t you?”

“Here’s the thing. No matter how close I am to partner, I can’t go that route now. Not when I need flex hours. I’d be working ninety hours a week, and I’d be in the courtroom all the time. I need flexibility, and I’ve looked into that company’s policies on family. It could work.”

“Would you take a pay cut?”

“I don’t know, but the paycheck isn’t the priority anymore. Neither is the prestige of making partner.”

“How’re you gonna manage working there with Kailyn?”

“It wasn’t like it was going on all that long. We can be professional.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’ll figure it out. I can’t keep going the way I am.” This train is going to derail eventually and I need to get off before that happens.

chapter twenty-one

WE ALL FALL

Dax

The drive to work on Monday is miserable. Not because the traffic is worse than usual or the weather is shitty, but because I have an angry thirteen-year-old girl in the passenger seat who still isn’t talking to me. It’s driving me insane. I don’t know how people give each other the silent treatment. I would lose my ever-loving mind. In fact, if it goes on much longer, that may just happen.

“You can set yourself up over there and start on homework.” I motion to the chair on the other side of my office.

Emme says nothing as she dumps her stuff beside the chair and pulls out her laptop—I had to revise my electronics ban since all of her homework is online. But she’s not allowed to do it in her room. She has to work in the kitchen, which she hates. Along with me.

She quietly seethes while I check emails and go through my voicemails. Freeman pops his head in the door and glances at Emme set up in the corner. “Do we have a new intern I don’t know about?” He’s smiling, but there’s tension behind it.

“Hi, Mr. Freeman.” Emme’s voice is raspy from disuse.

“Emme’s not feeling one hundred percent, so she’ll be here for a couple of days.” I also refuse to let her stay home on her own, aware she’ll likely spend the entire day in front of the TV. It’s what I’d do without supervision.

He taps on the doorframe, a sign of his agitation. “Can I see you in my office?”

“Of course.” I push out of my chair. “I’ll be back.”

Emme nods, chewed-up nails already in her mouth as I follow my boss down the hall.

“Is this going to be a regular occurrence?” he asks once we’re in his office.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve run it by you before I brought Emme here. She won’t be a problem. She’ll stay in my office and if I have meetings, I can send her down the street to the café.”

“Is everything okay? I understand you’re going through some personal difficulties, but you’ve been distracted a lot lately.”

That the death of my parents and my guardianship of my sister is construed as personal difficulties is laughable. “There’s been a lot of change. I’ve had to shift my priorities now that Emme is my responsibility.”

He steeples his hands. “I’m sure it’s put increased demands on your time outside of work. I hope that her being here isn’t going to compromise that further.”

“She won’t be a distraction.” I’m annoyed that this is the angle he’s taking. At no point has he asked how I’m coping, how Emme’s coping. His sole concern seems to be whether I can accomplish everything he needs me to in the time I have allocated.

He smiles. “That’s good to hear. I know partner is on your radar and I’d hate for that to be compromised.”

I consider whether I want to have this conversation, and decide it’s better to get it out of the way. “Actually, I think we should talk about that. Now that I have these new responsibilities, I need to reevaluate my career plans, and that includes making partner. It’s still definitely something I’d like to work toward, but I need my focus to be on Emme and her well-being. I think Felix would be equally as viable a candidate for partner.”

He blinks a few times, the only sign I’ve shocked him. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Emme’s only going to need me for a few more years, and right now she needs me the most. She has to be my first priority.”

He’s silent for a few moments before he finally nods. “I understand. It’s commendable that you’re putting her needs ahead of your own.”

It’s about time, actually, but I don’t say that. And as I sit across from him, I keep thinking about Whitman and what they might be able to offer me. Feelings for Kailyn aside, it would be better for Emme and possibly better for me. “I should get back to work.”

My conversation with Freeman weighs heavy on my mind the rest of the morning. Emme comes with me to get lunch. We order to go and head back to the office instead of grabbing a table. The silence is choking me.

“Are you in trouble for having me at work?” Her voice is low and hoarse.

I glance at her, head bowed, fingers at her mouth. There are dark circles under her eyes. “No, I’m not in trouble.”

“Mr. Freeman seemed mad.”

“He always seems mad, especially in the morning.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d tell me what happened at the dance.”

“I already did. I swear on Mom and Dad, Dax, I didn’t steal the vodka. I don’t know how it got in my locker, but I didn’t put it there. We went to my locker twice, once to get stuff for Sasha and once to get Ainsley a hair tie, and that was it.”

Her oath shocks me into stillness. She’s serious. I can see it in her imploring gaze and the tremble of her chin.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” I pull her into me, hugging her hard. “I should’ve trusted that you were telling me the truth.”

She clutches my jacket, face mashed into my chest. “You believe me?”

“I believe you.”

We stand in the middle of the street, people shooting curious looks our way as her shoulders shake and her tears soak through my jacket. When she finally lets go, her eyes are rimmed with red and her face is blotchy. “Does this mean I can have my phone back?”

I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, you can have your phone back.”

“Can I text Kailyn?” she asks meekly.

That it’s her first question makes my chest tighten a little. I wonder how hard it’s been for her to be without anyone these past few days. Another rookie parenting mistake on my part, taking everything away from a girl who’s already lost so much.

“Yes. You can text Kailyn.”