Page 3 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

Her eyes lower, dragging the corners of her lips down with them. “Yes, a woman I’m working with at the social services office. She has two kids. I found a place for them to stay for a short time, a safe place, but we’re trying to help her move to Philadelphia, where her mother lives. Her mother can give her the help she needs with the kids while she works and then after school.” Her expression is as soft as her tone. “She needs a divorce and permission to take the kids out of state.”

I’m not generally an overly emotional guy. Many years of training myself to bury those reactions in court have served me well. But every now and then, my chest tightens, like it is now. She’s so damn kindhearted. “You’ve never come to me before?—”

“Misty Connor, that’s her name. She’s gotten terrible advice. One attorney told her to stay in the marriage and work it out for the kids.” Leaning forward, she flattens her palms on the desk as if she has no other choice. “He’s . . . awful, Rad. I can’t go into the details, but she needs this divorce. She needs to be free from him. These kids need a stable home, and she and her mother can provide that for them.”

Tealey’s heart of gold shines through her plea. And I want to help her. I’d do anything to help Tealey, but it’s not as simple as she thinks. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s?—”

“I need you, Rad.She needs you, and I need to do whatever I can to help her. I know this is a big ask. And . . .” Giving her time, she swallows, and then adds, “Her kids deserve a chance at a better life.”

Shifting in my chair, I study the frown shaping her lips in a way they should never be and the sadness darkening her irises. Blowing out a breath, I look away and run my hand through my hair when my chest tightens. I remind myself to maintain a neutral expression and remain professional. “I hear what you’re saying, but it’s complicated to force a divorce on someone who doesn’t want it. It can be a lengthy and emotionally drawn-out process. I’m assuming he won’t sign anything if she gave it to him, correct?”

“She spent the night in the hospital when she once mentioned it.”

Rage strikes like lightning. “Fuck.”

“I know.” She sighs through the defeat coating her tone.

Stay professional. Shuffling papers around on my desk, I distract myself from looking at her. I won’t be able to handle the tears wavering on the edge of her lids if they fall. Seeing a woman cry is my weakness.My mom . . .I remember her tears too well. Tealey crying? No. I can’t have that either. “Is there a restraining order in place?”

“She filed, but it was denied.”

I should really have Ashley in here taking notes, but this is personal, so I pull a legal pad from my drawer and jot a few things down. “It shouldn’t have been denied if there’s a paper trail documenting the abuse.” I look back up. “He’s?—”

“He’s awful, Rad.”

With our eyes locked on each other, I sense the words—fear, danger, and concern—she harbors inside but won’t say. “I’ll help her.” I nod before setting the pen down before me and twisting it between my fingertips. “I take a handful of pro bono cases a year when I can. It’s all I have time for lately. I’ll take this one but on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Get rid of her current legal aid. Whoever was assigned to her case is doing a shit job. I’m not interested in schooling someone on how to win a case. I’m interested in helping your client.”

Tealey’s shoulders ease as a small smile appears. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You’ve done more than you realize. You’ve given me hope.” She moves to her bag, pulls out a file, and sets it on the desk. “I brought this with me. I can get an e-copy for you if you prefer.”

“I hate sounding like, well, an attorney since we’re friends, but I have to keep things legal. I’ll send over a contract. She’ll need to sign it to retain me.”

Worry creases the corners of her eyes. “Free of charge, right?”

“Yes.”

Relief colors her expression with bright eyes, and a hint of that pink in her cheeks kisses her skin.Why does she have to be so fucking beautiful?“Thank you, Rad. What can I do for you in return?”

“Nothing. It’s fine,” I reply, glancing down. “Really, it’s no big deal.” I’d never require a favor in return, especially not from her, but my mind goes to the gutter because yeah . . .I’m an asshole.A few good deeds can’t change that fact.

She adjusts the strap of her bag over her head and settles it on her hip. “You’re busy, and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. I need to get back to work before I’m late, and let’sface it, I’ve already made this awkward by asking for a favor I can’t return. I’m going to take the win and get out of your hair.”

Our eyes connect one last time before she opens the door. Barely filling half the doorway, she says, “It was . . .”

I nod. “It was.”

Smiles are exchanged before she turns and runs right into a Pepto-pink suit. “Marlow? Hey? Hi.”

Just what I didn’t need today.A groan rumbles through me.

“Helllooo.” The most boisterous and vain of our group, Marlow Marché arrives like she’s late for a red-carpet event. She may annoy me sometimes, but there’s also something strangely charming and captivating about her that draws people in. I just wish she wasn’t making a show of things in my office. Marlow asks, “What are you doing here, Tealey?”

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