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“Why does he have him in the first place?” he called after me.
My answer was to let the metal door slam behind me.
I checked the time. I was already late, but I had more pressing problems than what to do with the floors in Holt’s office.
I hesitated only a second before I hit the call button.
“Daniel Elliott.”
“This is Marlow Linley, Andrew and Holt Dixon’s sister.”
“I know who you are,” Daniel growled. Hegrowled.
Shit. What had I gotten myself into?
“Can you help me find an attorney? One who isn’t afraid to get dirty.”
Silence. I checked to see if we were still connected.
“Why would you think I know such a person?”
“Just a vibe I get from you,” I said truthfully.
“Your brother is a lawyer.”
“Real estate. I need family law.”
More silence.
“What about Patrick Whitley?”
Hearing his name was a shot of pain and anger at the same time. I would not be controlled by Patrick and his unbendable contract. I’d be damned if he controlled my son’s life either.
“You know that isn’t his specialty.” The words came out more tersely than I intended.
“He might be better suited to help you.”
“Not if I don’t want him to know.”
Even more silence.
“I’ll call you back.”
Three tones sounded. I stared at the screen to confirm he was gone. He was. Guessed I was going to make that appointment after all.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Patrick
“I’ll just wait.”
Holt cocked his head. “It might be a few hours.”
“Where’d she go?”
“Uh . . . to make a lumber order.”
I looked around the space. “What do you need lumber for?”
