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“No.”
“Good to see you are in your usual chipper mood.” The voice is playful and sarcastic and pissing Tobias off. I like the voice already.
Stepping in, I scan the room. Trent Aldridge is reclined behind a large desk, wearing a broad smirk.
He is the opposite of Tobias, who looks like he’s never heard nor understood the punchline to a joke.
“And who are you?” Trent lifts his brows as I step into his office.
“This is my new lawyer.” Tobias’s voice is stern, and I swear it sounds like a warning. Why? I don’t know, but it’s there, nonetheless.
“Does this lawyer have a name?” The smile that lines this man’s face is contagious, and even though I want to smile, I have a feeling Tobias does not.
And just as predicted, my new client shows no emotion. He looks like a goddamn robot. A hot one, but still.
I step forward, hand raised. “The lawyer,” I say in introduction. “But you can call me Skye.”
“Skye. I like that. Nice shirt,” he says, wrinkling his brow as he takes in my look.
“There was a coffee incident. I was able to borrow a shirt from Mr. Kosta’s wardrobe.”
“Really? Coffee. I would really love to hear the details of this one.”
“How’s Payton?” Tobias cuts in and asks. I don’t know who Payton is, but something tells me I just entered a pissing match.
“She’s fine, thanks for asking. Take a seat, guys, and we can go over everything. And before you ask . . . you still have money. I haven’t Ponzi schemed your ass yet.” My upper teeth bite down to refrain from laughing, but a squeak comes out. I play it off as a cough, but Tobias’s scowl deepens. I’m not fooling anyone.
I can’t help but watch them. The back-and-forth banter between them reminds me of a tennis match. Except Trent is playing for fun, and Tobias, well, Tobias basically is being forced to play despite hating the game.
It’s pretty interesting to observe them. I can tell right off the bat that they are friends. I can also tell Tobias likes him. But even with all that, Tobias doesn’t smile or smirk. He doesn’t have the sound in his voice that you often hear between friends. It’s not warm. There’s no tinge of humor. It makes my heart clench in my chest.
Does he have anyone?
My eyes narrow as I take him in. He’s not that different from me. In truth, other than our chosen careers, we are pretty similar. Both jaded and closed off with tragic pasts.
I have to stop thinking about this.
Recently, my childhood—my memories—have been haunting me again. Which is not something I can think about.
“What do you think about that, Skye?” I hear Trent Aldridge say, and I realize I have no clue what he is talking about. I had completely tuned him out, lost in my own thoughts and the similarities between Tobias and me.
“I’m sorry, I missed the question.” A normal person might pretend they were paying attention. A normal person might be worried that their client is pissed that they weren’t paying attention. I’m not that person.
I can give two shits what either of these men thinks of me. However, that being said, the faster I get done here, the faster I can get back to the office and see if I can get myself to work with Mr. Bernard again. From what I have heard, and read in my father’s files, he was involved that day . . .
“Here are the forms you need to look over.” Trent reaches out and extends the paperwork to me. It’s a huge pile. So much for getting anything else accomplished today.
What is all this shit?
I look down at the pile in my hand and lift the top sheet. A new account is being opened in the name of Gideon Byrne.
There are also papers for an investment tied to a corporation located in the Cayman Islands.
I see that some other things are clearly not on the up-and-up right off the bat.
“As you can see, Tobias has made quite a bit of money.” Quite a bit? More like enough to start his own country. “All of this money is—”
“Clean?” I ask.
Trent laughs. “Not pulling any punches, huh?”
“I don’t see a reason. I’m here to make sure everything is legal, which means at one point it wasn’t. And as for Tobias, I’m his attorney. Thus, attorney-client privilege is in effect. When do you need these back?”
“Tomorrow too soon?” Trent asks, and I look over at Tobias, whose jaw is tight.
I want to say yeah, it’s too soon, but it’s officially my first day on the job, and that won’t grant me any favors with my boss.
“Nope. I will have this couriered back to you in the morning.”
“No,” Tobias grits out, and I look to face him. His lips are thinned. “You’ll hand-deliver it yourself.”
