Page 74 of Bad Situation

I’ve stalked him through social media over the years out of sheer curiosity, which was hard to do since he’s not a social media kind of guy. I could tell from others who tagged him that he stayed in California and went to Stanford Law. I wasn’t surprised by that one bit. He’s two years older than me and was always sharp. He had to be if he wanted to claw his way out of the hell-hole he grew up in—no one was paving his way, let alone doing him any favors.

It was him against the world and, then, Kipp Montgomery.

In the beginning, my dad saw his potential and that’s why he always gave Trig preferential treatment over the other hands on the ranch. That is until Trig shot him in the back with a figurative six-shooter—at least, this is how my dad described it. I, on the other hand, knew it was different.

My mother will have a come-apart when she hears Trig is back in Texas. With everything that happened all those years ago, I’m surprised Scott would put him on my case—if he knew, which makes me think Trig didn’t inform him of the ugly history.

“Jen.” Trig’s icy blue eyes slice from me to my father but, unlike the Trig I knew so long ago, today they remain dispassionate and blank. “Kipp.”

Scott strides back to his seat and sits, ignoring the heavy air in the room that weighs on all of us like a hot Texas summer. “Easton is a defense attorney with a special skill set that makes him perfect for your case. He started out in the corporate world and then moved into white-collar defense—he’s hell on wheels in the courtroom and can tear up a so-called witness faster than an F4 tornado. You’re lucky to have him.”

“No.” My dad’s voice—strong and resolute—rings from behind me. “I want someone else.”

Scott frowns. “Kipp, I wouldn’t put anyone but the best on Jen’s case. You’ve known me for years. Trust me on this.”

Trig moves into the room and stands across the conference table from us and casually slides his hands into his pockets. I have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s standing resolute, self-assured, as if the history between he and my family isn’t lying stagnant in the room between us.

I’ve never seen Trig in anything but jeans and work boots—maybe a wife-beater, but usually when he was working our ranch, he went shirtless. I know fashion and can tell his dress shirt was specially cut just for him. No man can buy them off the rack to fit shoulders like his without bunching at the waist into a mess of wrinkles—and his is smooth across his abs.

My father looks to Scott. “I said no. Give us someone else.”

I don’t take my eyes off Trig as I wave my hand at my dad to shut him up. “Easton has a history with our family.”

Scott is focused on the documents in front of him as he mutters, “He told me he knew you. Even better, right?”

My dad starts to move around me but I catch his arm. “Wait.”

Dad turns to look at me and, for the first time in my life, I see every pain he’s ever experienced on his face. The stress of what’s happened to me within MI, losing Patrick and, now, out of nowhere, the past resurfacing like a dreadful nightmare.

I turn to Scott. “If you’re going to appoint someone new to lead my case, I’d like a word alone with him first.”

My father starts to argue but it’s Scott who butts in. “Jen, I promise your case will be a breeze compared to others he’s handled and, with what you just told us about the agent planting evidence, this could be wrapped up as soon as we can get a court date set.”

I move back to my seat and settle in. “That’s good to know, but it’s my ass on the line. I want fifteen minutes with my new lead counsel. Don’t worry, Scott, you’re free to bill me.”

Scott shakes his head and stands. My dad, on the other hand, pulls out a chair to sit next to me.

“No,” I say and he frowns at me. “I want to talk to him alone. Go back to the office, check on the media coverage, and call Millie to see what we can do to help with Patrick’s service. I can handle this.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you to this.”

I grab his hand and squeeze because it’s a slippery balance being Kipp Montgomery’s daughter and his CFO. It’s a tightrope I’ve teetered for years but even after yesterday, I know he loves me. That, I’ll never question. “You want to trust me with your empire? Then trust me. If not, I’ll leave you to it. Your choice.”

Scott has already left the room and my dad glares at Trig as he gives my shoulder a squeeze. When he looks at me, he appears as resigned as he does tired. Still, after yesterday, it’s like an apology and a gift when he gives me his trust. “I’ll see you back at the office?”

And just like that, we’re on speaking terms again. I knew we would be.

I nod.

He shakes his head one more time and I have to hold my breath as he strides out of the room, passing the only man I’ve ever seen my dad truly lose his shit over.

Then I’m alone with him. “Shut the door and have a seat, Trig.”

He does and takes a seat directly across from me. Leaning back into his chair, he rests an ankle on his knee as if we sit like this to chat every day. “You wear the position well, Jen. You look good.”

I take in his wavy dark hair that’s manicured and perfectly shaped as opposed to tickling his ears and turning at the nape like it used to. He’s sitting completely still besides his thumb strumming his middle finger, assessing me, and waiting for how I’m going to respond after all these years. “For my sake, I hope you’re a better litigator than a liar. My life has turned to shit and I know I look it. Especially compared to you and your new-and-improved self.”

He shrugs. “I’ve done okay.”

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