Page 20 of Forbidden Dreams
“Thank you so much. When you come in, just come to the back. I’m in the office.”
“See you soon,” I tell her, getting up and walking to the bathroom before leaving. Turning on the cold water, I wash my face, but there is not much I can do to mask the redness of my eyes and the tip of my nose.
Grabbing my phone and my purse, I head out into the sunlight and feel the crisp cool air but then also the heat from the sun. I get into the car and open the windows before making my way over to the bar. Parking in the back, I see his red truck is here, and I’m thankful I haven’t seen him since I was served with the papers. It was slowly becoming one of the few nights I wanted to forget. Forget the fact I made out with him in a fucking closet, then I get home to him being there to witness me being served in the middle of the fucking night. The minute I got served, the kiss was the farthest thing from my mind. I put my head up and shoulders back as I walk into the bar and see that it’s empty, and all lights are off. I follow Autumn’s instructions and head to the back, saying a little prayer that I don’t come face-to-face with him.
Walking past the scene of the crime, where the kiss happened, I see the door is closed and a new handle is in its place. I walk toward the door, pushing it open and stepping into the back where they make the whiskey. The lights are all on, and I can hear people on the side as I walk toward the office.
I spot Autumn sitting behind the desk, taking a sip of her water as she chews something. I knock on the doorjamb and she looks up at me, a smile filling her face, making the little jitters I had about seeing her one-on-one go away. Her smile quickly fades. “Are you okay?” she asks me and I nod.
“Yeah,” I lie to her, “I think it’s allergies.” The excuse would make even me laugh if someone said it to me.
“Is that so?” She leans forward on her desk with her hands crossed in front of her. “I thought that was just during the spring.”
I shrug, not willing to put too much more into the lie. “I have to fill out something?” I change the subject and she reaches over and grabs the top manila folder, opening it.
“Yes,” she says, handing it to me. “Sit down.” She motions to the chair and I walk and pull out the chair, sitting on it. “Do you want something to drink?” She moves to the side, pointing at the small fridge in the corner of her office. “I would offer you a piece of cake.” She points at the loaf of cake that looks like she’s eating it with a fork. “But it was the last one Ms. Maddie had, and it’s a strawberry swirl cake with cream cheese frosting, and I’m sorry, but it’s all mine.”
I chuckle at her. “That’s okay, I’m not really hungry,” I tell her. “You should try the blueberry lemon cake with lemon drizzle.” Her eyes go big. “I had it the other day and it was the best one, I think.”
“I wish I knew who the baker was, I’d be ordering them by the case,” she admits. “Ms. Maddie refuses to tell me who it is.” I shrug and make no eye contact with her. “Anyway, here is what you need to fill out.” She hands me the paper. “Sorry about that.” She inhales deeply. “I’m blaming it on pregnancy brain.” She laughs. “Or at least I’m telling myself that.”
“It’s a thing,” I confirm for her, “and even after, it’s as if you instantly forget things.”
“Good to know.” She hands me a pen, and I look down at the paper, filling in the name of my bank. “So how are you doing?”
My eyes shoot up right away, and I should have known Brady would have told her about what happened. “I guess you could say I’m doing as good as I should be doing.” I look back down at the paper and fill out my account number.
“Is it the shifts at the bar that are the problem?” she asks, her voice filled with worry. “I can see if maybe you can get shorter shifts.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I need the shifts.” I sound as if I’m one string away from snapping after the day I’ve had. “I thought you were mentioning me being served the other night.”
She gasps, “I’m sorry.” Her face is filled with confusion. “I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.”
“But,” I start, the pen dropping from my fingers, “I thought for sure that Brady.”
“Brady?” she questions his name.
“Well, he was there, obviously, when I was served.” If I thought my heart was going nuts before, it’s nothing like it is now.
“I’m sorry”—she holds up her hand—“you will need to back up there.”
I’m the one who is confused now. Did he not tell her anything? “Brady is my neighbor,” I say, not sure why, but I do, and she gasps again.
“You’re the neighbor who baked him that apple pie,” she states as if I just told her I had the direct line to the president of the United States. “God, that was good fucking pie.” She looks at the cake, taking another bite of it before turning back. “Okay, so you live next to Brady, and you were served papers for what?”
“Winston is suing me for custody of Wyatt,” I finally let it out, and quickly wipe the tears that have managed to come out, “and I need a lawyer.” I really wish I could shut the fuck up right now, but my mouth is just letting it all go. “But everywhere I called today, they told me no one is taking new clients.” My body literally shakes uncontrollably. “How is that even possible?” I ask, but I’m not really asking her. Her face is now ashen white, and her mouth hangs open. “Like, every single lawyer out there I’ve called is not taking clients.” I don’t even notice the tears are just streaming down my face. I don’t notice the air in the room has shifted. I notice nothing. If I had, I would have noticed him walking into the room. I would have noticed Autumn’s eyes, which were on me during my very public meltdown, shifting over my shoulder, but I was too far gone anyway. “But they are not, and I have seven days to respond to the ridiculous summons.” I close my eyes, hoping the last of the tears just rolled over my lids. “Do you have a lawyer or know of anyone who is taking new clients?” I know asking her is something I shouldn’t do, but I’m literally stuck.
She opens her mouth, but the voice comes is from behind me, and it’s from a very pissed-off man. “He’s fucking suing you?”
CHAPTER 13
Brady
Walking into the office, I didn’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it’s safe to say that what I heard was the last thing I thought I was going to hear. I tried to keep it under wraps, tried to push it down, but my mouth had other plans, roaring out, “He’s fucking suing you?”
Her head snaps to look my way, and I see her face streaked with fucking tears, more fucking tears than should be shed for such a piece of shit. “Brady.” My sister’s tone comes out as a sort of warning, and I should heed it, but I don’t.
“He’s suing you?” I ask again, watching her face turn ashen. “I must have heard wrong, right?” I look at her, not taking my eyes off her. Waiting each fucking second, I get angrier and angrier, my body going so tense.