Page 23 of Contentious

“Nothing is going on with her other than me providing surveillance for her and her son as needed, during which we’ve become friendly. That happens. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Call me crazy, but it looked like more than that to me.”

“Call me crazy, but you’ve got your head up your ass lately, and now you’re seeing things that aren’t there through your brand-new rose-colored glasses.”

“Fuck off with that. Why can’t you just admit you’re into her?”

“Because I’m not! Unlike you, I don’t fraternize with clients. Quit making a federal case out of it.”

“Wow, low blow, brother. You feel better calling me out like that?”

“Did you or did you not get involved with a client?”

“I got involved with her after I turned her case over to Jackson, so no, I didn’t get involved with a client.”

“Jackson works for you, so you’re splitting hairs.”

“I was not her attorney of record when I got involved with her. Be careful insinuating that I’ve committed an ethics breach, because that isn’t true.”

“I’m just saying… People in glass houses need to put down the stones.”

“Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“Nah, I’m good. Later, bro.”

Carson pushed a button on the steering wheel to end the call, pissed off after the testy conversation with Julian. That he had the nerve to bring up Cresley when he was cavorting with someone who’d started out as a client took balls. Granted, Isla had been a pro bono client as the sister of Julian’s close friend, but she’d been a client, nonetheless. Yes, he’d turned her over to Jackson when he realized he’d caught feelings, but the lines were fuzzy despite what he’d told himself to make it work in his own mind.

He’d never been so out of sync with Julian, the brother who’d been his ride-or-die through the best and worst times of their lives. Right now, Carson barely recognized him and was distressed by the widening gulf between them. His impulse would always be to support Julian in any way he could, but this? He couldn’t get behind something that had the power to destroy someone he loved.

Isla seemed like a lovely person. Everything was wonderful at the beginning of a relationship. What would happen when the shit got real and one of them came to their senses? Or she realized she’d moved on from her now-dead ex-husband too quickly? Or her kids became too much for Julian to deal with or whatever would happen down the road? Something always happened.

Their booming family law practice was proof that nothing lasted forever. Julian knew that better than any of the siblings since he’d been in the business the longest. He’d tell you himself he’d seen it all in his practice: fairy-tale marriages that imploded in violence, parents who’d kill their kids rather than lose them to an ex, wives who cheated because they were bored or ignored or disrespected or fill in the blank. Men who gaslit the women who loved them while they were off leading a whole other life with someone else. Love turned to ashes quickly in the throes of a divorce, and it became every man and woman for him- or herself.

The last thing he wanted for any of his precious siblings was to be caught up in something like that, which was why they’d decided it was easier to stay unattached. Julian had always agreed with him and the others on that, until he didn’t anymore.

Carson didn’t appreciate having to worry about him on top of everything else he had going on with people positioned all over Southern California collecting information that would be useful to their clients’ cases. He wanted to be focused on his work, not worrying about what level of disaster his brother was setting himself up for. Not to mention the crap with their parents. There were times, like this, when he wished he had someone to talk to who was completely on his side, but he’d never sacrifice his mental health and well-being for that.

He needed to hit a Narcotics Anonymous meeting and get himself back on track. There was one at eleven in Van Nuys that he could get to if traffic cooperated. At the next light, he took a right toward the meeting. Any time his emotions spun out of control the way they were now, he looked for the stability he relied upon to stay clean and sober. Sitting in a room with his fellow addicts was the one thing that could almost always set him straight. In the past, he’d turn to drugs—heroin in particular—when life got to be too much for him.

That’d led to an addiction nightmare that he’d barely survived.

He gave his parents credit for coming together to pull him back from the brink and paying for expensive rehab, multiple times, that’d eventually saved his life. They’d never wavered in their devotion to his recovery and had both expressed enormous pride in how he’d put his life back together over the last eleven years. For that one reason—and that one reason only—he felt a twinge of guilt about not wanting to be part of their reunion story.

He owed them everything, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to them about their relationship. Put that last on the list of things he wanted to do.

He was certain the NA meeting would help him regulate unproductive emotions that had never served him well.

Then Cresley called.

Carson pressed the button on the steering wheel to take the call. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’re you doing?”

“Living the dream. How about you?”

“All good. Ty was mad that I got to go out with Mr. Carson and he didn’t.”

“Aw, he’s so funny. I’ll take him for ice cream this weekend.”