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“Kierra? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she sniffed, trying to catch her bearings.
We were gathered outside the house, and the kids were lined up, donning their school uniforms with their backpackson their backs, waiting to have their pictures taken. Grant and Casey argued that Kiyah’s Hot Wheels backpack was cooler than theirs; however, I reminded them that they all chose their own backpacks and that they should choose better next year.
I suspected Kierra’s tears were not only because she was excited for Kiyah, but that Rory wasn’t there to witness such an important milestone.
“A year ago looked very different for us, and now I’m sending my baby to her first day of school,” she expressed through her tears.
“I cried a little on Grant’s first day. It gets easier with each kid. I love you, Kierra, but we’ll be late if we prolong this any longer.”
“If you’ll stop talking and smile, then you can be on your way. I’m waiting on you,” she admonished teasingly as she tried to focus the phone.
We took several pictures, and I wasn’t surprised when I pulled out of the automatic gate of our property ten minutes later than I originally planned. I dropped the kids off and had to give Kiyah extra hugs and kisses and a promise of an after-school treat to get her to leave with her teacher. I pulled into my assigned parking spot at 7:56 a.m. and silently thanked God before rushing into the office.
“Rough morning?” Cara greeted.
“The kids’ first day of school,” I answered.
“Say less. A coffee and lemon berry scone awaits you in your office. I’ll personally escort your client to you.”
I smiled. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
“Hell yeah, I am,” she giggled.
I entered my office and was hit with the robust smell of Colombian-roasted coffee. I had barely taken off my blazer and powered on my laptop when my client arrived. I winced upon seeing him. That ambulance had done a number on him. Fromwhat I remember, he suffered a fractured neck, orbital lobe, and patella, resulting in him using a walker to ambulate.
“Good morning.”
“What’s so good about it?” he growled as he maneuvered into the seat.
“You woke up to see another day.”
He snorted. “Listen up, Baker. I want to fucking own that third-rate ambulance company by the time you’re done. I want to take them for every single penny they have. I don’t give a fuck if you have to dig up their dead nana and take her gold teeth out of her mouth—I want her money, too.”
“I understand, Mr. Burgess. Let’s get started.”
