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“Did I throw Holden St. James off his game?” I pressed a hand to my chest, earning another smile. “You needed someone to take care ofyoufor a change, Counselor.” I pointed to the pastry he’d set on his desk. “That’s a ham and cheese pastry that’s going to change your life, but also hopefully it helps.”
“It smells almost as good as this coffee,” Holden said, leaning back in his chair and adjusting his tie.
I watched him as he picked up the pastry and took a bite, my eyes taking inventory of how unusually rumpled he looked. Every inch of his face screamed how tired he was, and even an expensive suit couldn’t disguise that fact.
“Are you doing okay? You look exhausted.” I hurried to add, “Sorry, I know no one likes to hear that.”
He ran a hand across his mouth, the rough sound of it scraping over stubble another sign that he was tired.
“Yeah, well, I’m doing the work of two attorneys again, so I’ve been working sixteen-hour days this week.” He took a healthy gulp of his coffee. “Macon was supposed to head this deposition, but Sissy needed him to look at two apartments that ‘won’t last a day in this market.’ And then she absolutelyhadto have his help with some issue with vendors — something about the caterer and florist.”
“That sounds like Sissy.” I hesitated, wanting to ask him the question that had been on my mind since our dinner at Tom’s restaurant. “I’m going to ask you a question, but I understand if you’re not comfortable answering. Why don’t the other partners care about Macon consistently foisting off his work on you?”
“You can ask me anything, Sutton,” Holden reassured me, “and I ask myself the same question all the time. The best answer I can come up with is that they don’t expect as much out of him, and probably prefer for me to handle the cases anyway.”
“I can understand that. I’ve always felt like my parents didn’t hold Sissy and me to the same standards, because they didn’t expect as much from her as they did me in certain things. Like, you know, morals and basic human decency.”
Holden chuckled and I felt like I’d just secured world peace.
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to a slower pace and not being accountable for billing hours.”
“Have you told the partners yet?”
It wasn’t lost on me that I kept using the word “partners” when what I really meant was his father. I didn’t think his daddy was going to be pleased with his decision to leave the firm. Holden was the youngest member of the firm to ever make partner; even the other St. James men hadn’t risen so high, so young. It wasn’t strictly nepotism either. He was unquestionably an amazing attorney and incredibly hard worker.
“No, I’m going to wait until after the wedding. It might be naïve of me, but I’m hoping that will eliminate any of Macon’s or my father’s arguments for me to stay in my current position,” he reasoned. But I thought his logic was flawed: There was no way either Macon or their father was going to let him go without a fight. I decided this wasn’t a good time to mention it, though.
“How are renovations at the old Bradford place going?” I scrunched up my nose. “I guess I need to stop calling it ‘the old Bradford place’ now.”
“It’ll always be the old Bradford place to everyone in that town. Old habits die a very slow death in Beacon Hill. The renovations are going well. It looks like we’re still on track to finish around the same time as the wedding.”
My daddy did pride himself on finishing his projects on time, no matter what a client threw his way.
“Do you think you’ll get bored working as the solicitor? It’s going to be a much, much slower pace than you’re used to — which is I know is what you want, but you’re going to have a lot of free time on your hands.”
“I’m counting on it. I’ll pick up a hobby or something. Not golf.”
I laughed. “What kind of not-golf hobby?”
He shrugged, running his hand up and down the coffee cup.
“I’ve always wanted to give fishing a shot.”
My eyebrows winged up in surprise.
“Fishing? You’ve always wanted to try fishing? You managed to find the one activity more boring than golf, so that’s impressive.”
“Yes, fishing. It seems relaxing.” I nodded in confirmation, since itwasrelaxing — to the point that I usually fell asleep when my daddy dragged us with him to fish on weekends when Mama worked. “I take it you’re not a fan?”
“It’s not the worst,” I said, “but I can think of about four hundred things I would rather being doing at any given moment. My mama had to work a Saturday or two a month at the salon, so my daddy would take us with him fishing on Saturday morning. He really tried to get one of us to love it, but I usually read and Sissy would tan. Poor guy.”
“Maybe he’d be willing to give me some pointers.”
“Oh God. Fair warning, be prepared to spend an entire day listening to him talk about fishing.” I smiled, picturing Holden seated at the work bench in our garage with Daddy carefully making his own flies. “You know what’s interesting? I’ve always thought of Beacon Hill as a cage, and for you, Beacon Hill represents freedom.”
A knock at the door prevented Holden from responding. An older woman opened the door just enough to stick her head in.
“Holden, they’re ready to get started.”
