Page 85 of Bound To Be Mine

Mandy’s eyes widened. “Was it true?”

“No. Not even close. The guy was a failed designer who sent Dad some sketches years earlier. Dad had politely passed. My father designed every inch of the early stuff. It wasn’t until years later he put together a team. Anyway, this asshole twisted it, made it sound like Dad had taken his ideas and run with them. He had a whole narrative built up, complete with fake documentation and witnesses who were willing to lie for a cut of whatever settlement he could squeeze out of us.”

“That’s awful.”

“It was terrifying. I was just a kid, but I understood enough to know we could lose everything. The media was having a field day. Every headline made Dad sound like a thief. My dad was so stressed. He didn’t always keep his rough sketches because he was always improving them. He thought he was done. The guy was going to get away with stealing everything.”

I paused, remembering those months. The way my father had aged seemingly overnight, the weight of it crushing him.

“What happened?” Mandy asked softly.

“Dad found a good attorney. She was ruthless. She tore apart every claim, exposed every lie, tracked down the real documentation that proved Dad had never even seen most of the designs this guy was claiming were stolen. By the time she was done, the plaintiff didn’t just lose—he was facing a countersuit and fraud charges of his own.”

“So she saved the company.”

“She saved everything.” I met Mandy’s eyes. “And I remember sitting in that courtroom, watching her work, thinking that’s what I want to do. I want to be the person who stands between my family and people who want to destroy them. I want to be the one who protects what matters.”

Mandy was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass. “You make it sound like you’re a modern-day knight going to battle for your family.”

I laughed, but there was some truth to it. “You know, sometimes it feels that way. Maybe that’s why I get so caught up in it. It’s one thing working for a client, but this is my family. Obviously it means more.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “It’s not just business for you. It’s personal.”

“Exactly.” I took another drink. “Everyone hates attorneys until they need one. And when you need one, you want someone who’s going to fight like hell for you. That’s what I try to be.”

Our food arrived, perfectly grilled fish with roasted vegetables and some kind of citrus sauce that was incredible.

“This is fantastic, Mandy,” I said.

“I told you.” She speared a piece of asparagus. “There’s something about eating fresh seafood while looking at the ocean. It just tastes better.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

We talked more as we ate. I settled. Truly settled. With my wife.

26

MANDY

“Want to go for a walk?” I asked him after he paid the bill.

He shrugged. “Sure, it’s a beautiful day.”

The path from the restaurant down to the beach was steep enough that I took my heels off and carried them. Briggs ended up putting his arm around me to keep me from falling.

The beach at the bottom was narrow and mostly empty. Someone had shown me the path after we ate dinner here a couple years ago. Now, it was kind of my tradition. I stuffed my face and then headed down the secret path to the quiet beach.

It was dusk, the sunset painting one hell of a picture on the horizon. The air was warm but the breeze off the ocean had enough cool in it to feel like relief. I let it move through my hair and watched the water for a moment before remembering I had company.

Briggs was looking at the ocean. “Wow,” he said.

“Right?”

“Why aren’t there more people down here?”

“Because they’re smart enough to think about getting back up that hill.”

He turned and looked up at the goat trail we’d just navigated. “Oh. Right.”