Page 16 of Bad Situation

I exhale and look out my window. “I’m only good with numbers, Dad. I suck at this legal stuff, so thank you.”

“Oh, and your mama’s on her way to town. She’s madder than a wet hen in a tote sack and, from the sound of it, she’s made enough food for an army and wants to see her girl.”

I groan silently. I love my mother, but I’m exhausted. I’m not sure I have the energy to deal with her tonight. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need my parents fussing over me.”

“She’s on her way which means you might as well be a baby again, ‘cause you don’t get a vote.”

I roll my head to look at my father. “Do I ever get a vote?”

Kipp Montgomery—who’s dressed in a dark suit that fits his large frame perfectly and is a complete contradiction to when he’s working his land—lifts his big hand just like when I was little and ruffles my perfectly smoothed hair into a mess. “When it comes to your mama, no. Ellie and Griffin are comin’, too. Griff’ll get your mind off things.”

I look forward to seeing my sister and nephew, but close my eyes. “Please tell me Robert isn’t coming. I don’t want to rehash all of this tonight.”

My dad shakes his head. “He’s got his hands full at work.”

“I was going to drop you off out front, but it looks like they’re swarmin’ here, too.” I look out the front of the Escalade and Donny’s right. Media trucks are lined up in front of my building.

My dad shakes his head. “Go around to the garage under the building, Don.”

When the garage door lifts and Donny pulls around by the elevator, I tell him what I need out of my office and where to find my purse with my keys. As my dad and I are waiting for the elevator, I turn to him and can’t help my voice from shaking. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’m so sorry.”

My dad’s strong, masculine features soften in a way that only happens for his family and never when it has to do with work. For the second day in a row, as my life seems to be falling apart, I find myself in his arms. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. I promise.”

*****

“Well, hush my mouth,” my mother complains. “If that wouldn’t make a preacher cuss, I don’t know what would.”

Just like I didn’t want to do, we’ve rehashed the events of the last two days until they’re dead in the ground. Everyone knows my mother is at the end of her rope when she starts talking about cussing preachers.

We just ate the semi-healthy dinner my mother brought. She loves her southern cooking, but suffered from a minor heart attack a few months back. She’s trying to change her ways and Cam’s fiancée, Paige, is a caterer and trying to help her with that. My dad always said you can’t teach an old goat new kicks—my parents have their own brand of crazy and wear it proudly—but she’s trying. Tonight, she brought grilled chicken, salad, skinny mashed potatoes—though, I’m pretty sure she cheated because they were rich as hell—and a fruit salad. But because she said the fruit salad was dessert, she just couldn’t help herself and topped it with marshmallow fluff and chocolate syrup, telling me I deserved something close to a s’more after the day I’ve had.

She was not wrong.

Ellie leans forward on my sofa and, with a heavy hand, fills my glass almost to the rim. When I raise a brow at my little sister from where I’m lying on the floor with her son crawling all over me, she just hitches a shoulder. “What? We’re not going for classy tonight. We’re trying to drown your sorrows in wine and fluff. Drink up.”

Griffin, who is seven months old, drools into my neck where he’s giving me slobbery kisses and squeals when I tickle him.

My dad walks out of the kitchen. “Just got off the phone with Patrick who’s been in contact with Lehmans. They’ve been busy—your case should be dead in the water for a while. They’re confident they’ll have plenty of time to investigate on their own and by the time prosecution presents their discovery, we’ll have what we need for a dismissal.”

My insides relax slightly knowing, for now, time is my friend.

Ellie stands and reaches for her son who’s got to be dehydrated from the drool. Griffin looks just like her, right down to the bluest eyes that they got from our mother. “I told you. Dad’s got the best attorneys on it and they’ll fix everything. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re young, you’re smart, and you’ve proved you can handle the job—it makes you a target.”

“She’s right, Jenny,” my mom agrees as she scurries to my kitchen to collect her dishes. “Let them take care of it and move forward. I’m lookin’ forward to your father takin’ more time off starting next year. No one’s gonna mess with our plans. Don’t you worry your pretty shoes over this and keep doin’ what you do best.”

I take a healthy sip of my brimming merlot. “You always have to bring my shoes into it, don’t you?”

She throws me a grin. “You have your shoes. I have my hats. We all have our vices.”

“I’ve got to get Griff to bed and Robert will be home soon.” My lithe sister, who’s graceful in every way, bends to pick up her overflowing diaper bag and moves in to hug me. “Call me if you need more wine.”

I pepper my nephew’s chubby face with kisses. “Thanks for coming. If you’re ever arrested and charged in federal court, I’ll be there for you, too.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and since my parents have a long drive to the ranch, they follow her out the door.

My mom leans in to kiss me over her pile of dishes. “I want you to know that when this broke on the news today, that old woman, Margot Harrington, called me before I barely got a chance to get the details from your daddy. I gave her the what-for and, so help me, if I hear of her gossiping about you in Bible Study, I will rope that woman up and flog her myself.”

I shake my head at my well-meaning mother. “You do know, the least of my worries is what your old church friends say about me, right?”

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