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I was growing impatient with our arrangement. I was fine with casual screwing with anyone else but Meg. And then last night she had completely shut down any discussion about the future. About what she would do when she was done with the mural. She only had another week until she finished. And Whitney was in town now. What would stop her from going back to New York?
Nothing.
I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. That Meg and I would stay friends after she left. That we’d remain in touch. But that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not now. Not after getting a taste of what it was like to be with her.
I fucking loved her. I knew that with a certainty that went deep down into my marrow. I had loved her since I was old enough to understand what love was. And even in the years I was married to Chelsea, those feelings had lain there, waiting for me to acknowledge them again.
I loved Meghan Galloway.
And she was going to leave me.
I knew that was what the final chapter of this story would look like. She would get back into her crappy car and drive away, leaving me in her rearview just as she had done a decade ago.
Things were different this time.
Feelings were messy, and she had me twisted in goddamned knots. I knew I was frayed, and at the end of my rope. I was short-tempered and ready to punch someone in the face if they said something to piss me off, so when I arrived at court at 8:30 that morning, I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit. But bullshit was exactly what I got.
It started when the district attorney handed me a bulging file that undermined my entire case. Turns out my simple DUI was a swirling shit storm, mostly because my client was a lying sack of assholes. I was forced to change my entire strategy on a dime. Normally, I rose to a challenge like that. Not today. Today was Adam Ducate on three hours of sleep and his heart in a fucking sling.
To make matters worse, Dick Radner was the presiding judge, so three guesses how the hearing went. Then I may have lost my temper and called the district attorney a jackass. That hadn’t gone over well with Judge-small-dick-Radner, who had me removed from the courtroom and threatened me with contempt of court.
In the end, my client was handed six months in jail and a 3,500-dollar fine. It was way over the top for a first-time offender, but I knew arguing about it would only land me beside my less than an honest client.
To top it off, his rich mommy and daddy were waiting to tear me a new one for allowing their poor baby boy to go to jail. I had held my hand up when Mrs. Taylor began to screech at an uncomfortable volume about how she would tell everyone what a horrible attorney I was.
“Hold it right there,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. Mrs. Taylor looked ready to chew nails, but I wouldn’t stand there and take her abuse.
Not today, Satan.
“I’m the best fucking lawyer in the state. Ask anyone. Maybe you need to talk to your perfect boy about being forthright and open, and then maybe he wouldn’t be rotting in jail for the next six months. Now, we can appeal to the sentencing. I plan to start that when I get back to the office. But if you think you can find someone better, go for it. It’ll make all our lives easier. And if you think I overcharged you given the hours I put in, which I can I assure you I undercharged you for, then sue me. I’ll be happy to see you in court.” I gripped my briefcase in my hand so hard it almost snapped.
Mr. Taylor shushed his wife and attempted to placate the situation. “No, we want you to stay on the case. Please file for an appeal. We’ll call you later in the week. And thank you for everything you’ve done for our boy.”
Still simmering with rage, I shook his hand, ignored his harpy wife, and headed back to the office.
I could see Meg on the side of the building, at least twenty feet in the air as I came down the street. She was putting the final touches on the massive maple tree that ran along the left side. Seeing the finished product twisted my chest, and I couldn’t deal with all of the messed-up crap in my head.
Without bothering to say anything to her, I walked through the waiting area, past Lena, who looked up at me in alarm. I ignored Jeremy, who called out after me. I pushed open my door and all but slammed it shut behind me. I threw the briefcase across the room and fell into my chair, bracing my elbows on the desk, my head in my hands.
