“No. No.” I shook my head.
There was no one else. My mom had left when I was in high school, and Ben was my only real friend besides Emerson. Though she was back in Sunnyville.
“Thank you for informing me.” I stood, my tone cold even to my ears.
After a few more forced pleasantries, I escorted him to the door, shutting it behind him. I returned to my desk and stared at my computer screen for longer than I cared to admit. Memories came to me unbidden, and I tried to push them away. I hadn’t spoken to my father in weeks. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d visited—maybe Emerson and Grant’s wedding? And now he was gone. He was gone, and I couldn’t seem to feel anything.
I could hear raised voices outside my door. And a second later, the door swung open. Ben stood at the threshold, Susan behind him with an apologetic expression. I stood and smoothed my hand over my hair as I attempted to compose myself.
“Well, you didn’t miss much.” Ben halted. “What was so important?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “It was nothing.”
He closed the door, walking me over to the sofa and guiding me to sit beside him. “Audrey, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
I felt as if I had.“My father died.”
He took my hand in his. “I’m so sorry.”
Ben and I had been friends since our second year of law school, when we’d both taken a summer internship with Jones and Laughlin. Despite all the hours of bonding over being in the trenches, first as summer associates then associates, we’d never spoken much about my family. He knew I had a difficult relationship with my father, but not much beyond that. I preferred to keep my past in the past.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, forcing a smile. “I need to get back to work on the Stein case.”
“Should I call my mom and tell her we’ve had a change of plans?”
For the past few years, I’d spent the holidays with Ben and his family in Vermont. We went skiing, played board games, drank champagne. I always looked forward to it, even if his family had hinted we should be a couple on more than one occasion.
“No. No. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“What about the funeral? Your dad’s law practice?”
Oh god. I hadn’t even considered that. Plus, all the other arrangements that needed to be made. Would that really fall to me? I supposed so, seeing as I was an only child. And his practice…Fuck.I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I-I don’t know,” I said, clutching at my throat as if to prevent it from closing. I was swamped with my caseload, and I was hoping to use the Stein case as a catapult to that coveted senior associate position; we both were.
Ben shook his head, his expression disapproving. “Audrey, you’ll regret it if you don’t go.”
I had a feeling I’d regret it more if I did, but I kept that thought to myself.
“You already had a week of vacation coming up, and I’m sure Geoff will give you a few days for bereavement, especially if he understands the situation.”
“I don’t know,” I hedged.
This case could make my career. Our client was relying on the firm, on me, but my father likely had scores of clients relying on him as well. As much as I didn’t want to care, I knew I couldn’t leave them in the lurch. I needed to get to California, sort out my father’s shit, and get back.
“I’ll talk to Geoff,” Ben said, perhaps sensing my change of heart. “You worry about what you need to take care of there. I’ll handle things here and then come out to meet you.” He patted my hand as if he were doing me a favor.
“Thanks.” I clenched my jaw. “But I can talk to him myself. And don’t you dare cancel your plans,” I said in a more teasing tone. But I was serious; I needed to handle this myself, and I could. “Go to Vermont.”
“Without you?” He pouted. He’d always been an incorrigible flirt.
My phone vibrated on my desk, and I glanced at it. Emerson’s name flashed across the screen. When we’d met, she’d been a nomad, traveling around the US for skydiving. In the past few years, she’d settled down, moved back home—though I hadn’t known her as a kid in Sunnyville. I was a few years younger than her, and we hadn’t moved to town until after she’d left. She was now married to a police officer and pregnant with their second child.
If she was calling, that meant she likely knew. In a small town like Sunnyville, news traveled fast, especially once Cathy Clementine got a hold of something. There was a reason she was known as Chatty Cathy. Though, I assumed Emerson knew because of her husband, Grant.
“I have to take this,” I said to Ben.
