Page 98 of The Wedding Situation Romance

“Yeah well. It’s over,” I state, shoving up from my desk. I open the cabinet and reach for the whiskey, then stop. Then I close the cabinet and walk over to the window and stare at nothing.

“Why, though?” he asks.

“Why?” I spin around. “Haven’t you heard a single fucking word I’ve said?”

“I mean, I heard that you figured out her dad is Bowen, which is inconvenient but not that ironic. You work together or against each other all the time. And I heard that her client came to We Still Do in hopes of saving their marriage. As far as I know, clients come to Quinn, not the other way around. And I honestly don’t really see how you came to the conclusion that even if Quinn did orchestrate any of this, she is using you for money because if I remember your contract correctly, the money was always part of the deal.”

I bite my lip and nod. “So you don’t think any of it was part of her plan?”

“What plan?” he asks.

“Her plan to rip my reputation apart and use my money to fund her nonprofit,” I shout again. I swear this guy isn’t hearing me.

“Why would she do that?” he laughs. “Why would she want to hurt your reputation?”

“Because I am Manhattan’s most successful divorce lawyer, and she is Manhattan’s biggest romantic!”

Drew just stares at me. “If she believes in saving relationships that much, does it really make sense for her to want to ruin your life?” he asks.

I open my mouth to argue but find myself closing it again.

“Think about it, Reid,” he says. “And don’t take this the wrong way…but I can’t think of any woman who knows what you’re like ninety percent of the time who would willingly fall in love with you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snap.

“I mean, you were hurt. No doubt it was brutal. But most people have had their hearts broken.”

“Not like that,” I cut him off.

“Still. Most people don’t make it their entire personality. Most people move on. Most people find love again. Real love, true love, the love that was meant for him. She wasn’t meant for you, and that’s why it didn’t work out. You need to let that go,” he says and then nods up to me again. “Are you still in love with Lauren?”

“What?” I grit out.

“Are you still in love with the woman you thought you were going to marry?” he asks.

“Of course not!”

“Then let it go,” he says. “Let it go and accept that she was wrong for you. That it wasn’t truly love. Because if it were truly love, she would have loved you back. And she didn’t. But someone else will. Someone else does, if I had to guess. And if you hold on to the anger you feel towards Lauren and let Quinn go, you’re going to be alone with nothing but your pain. Not just the pain of the past, but the pain of losing your real true love.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I am supposed to say to that. Drew finally takes the hint that I really don’t want to talk about it anymore, and he sighs before getting up and heading towards the door. Then he stops.

“One more thing,” he says.

“Shoot,”

“You’re a good lawyer, Reid. And as a good lawyer, I think you can see how many holes are in your case. So I think you need to ask yourself what you’re actually arguing here. Because I think you’re afraid of something. And we both know fear is the worst enemy of success.”

Drew walks out and leaves me alone. Problematically, he’s leaving me alone with my thoughts. And those thoughts are too loud to focus on work right now. Once I have given Drew the chance to exit the building, I make my way out. And no sooner than my feet hit the pavement do I hear the last voice I want to hear right now. And it’s not Drew’s.

“Remington,” he snaps, and I turn around slowly to face Grant Bowen.

“I’m in a hurry,” I tell him.

“That’s fine. I can make this brief,” he states, stopping right in front of me. It’s funny, really. In a courtroom, we are always on opposite ends of the room. There're tables and people between us, and we each hold our own space. But right now, there’s nothing but maybe two feet of air between us. We aren’t lawyer to lawyer. We are man to man. And that means holding our own in another way. Not that I’m intimidated, of course.

“Stay away from her,” he states with more sternness than I am accustomed to. Don’t get me wrong, Grant is a hell of a lawyer. But his tactics in the courtroom are less sharp and more…deliberate. There’s an approachability to him. Of course, that’s all missing right now. Right now, he isn’t Grant Bowen, Attorney. He’s Grant Bowen, Quinn’s father.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. Is it a lie? Eh. I’ve never been one to jump to conclusions.