Page 37 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

“No one goes into social work to get rich.” I receive a pointed look, but then her expression eases. “I wanted to help people. I’m helping people . . . ten hours a day. I hate complaining. Sorry for the rant.”

“Rant away. You’re too damn good-hearted, you know that?”

The compliment leaves her grinning, too. “Someone’s got to counteract the cynicism in the world.” She winks at me.

“Touché. The world needs more Bells and fewer Wellingtons.”

Pulling the container from the bag, she laughs. “Lies. Your mom is very charitable.”

“Ha! She’s not even a Wellington anymore, but I’m not sure she ever felt one with the name anyway.”

I’m caught in a laugh when our gazes connect. Through shared smiles, our laughter fades, but our eyes stay fixed on each other. It’s quick, but in that one look, something more than our sense of humor tied us together.

She says, “It’s not only your mom who’s wonderful. You give people hope, a chance to make a new life.”

“I’ve never heard a divorce lawyer made out to sound like a saint.”

“It’s all about perspective.”

“Well, from my perspective, you’re the saint who’sactuallygiving people hope and a new start in life.”

She smiles again but doesn’t look at me as she pulls off the lid of the container. As if she doesn’t want to discuss herself, she sighs. “Hot and sour is just what I needed today.”

“Comfort food.”

When she finds the spoon, she offers it to me. “Do you want to share?”

I hold my hand up. “No, you go ahead. I ate earlier.”

Tealey starts eating as I look around at her personal belongings. It’s cute like her with the knickknacks. There are only a few, but enough to show her personality. Picking her coffee mug up, I read, “There. They’re. Their? . . .Ohhh.” I chuckle.

“Grammar jokes. Lame to most, but funny to me.” She pulls open a drawer. “I have snacks if you want a candy bar or gum.”

Various packages of gum slide around, but the Mars bars and Milky Ways are stacked in a clear bin. A clipped bag of chips anda few pieces of root beer candy are shoved in a white bin along with pencils, Sharpies, and what looks to be feminine products. “What else do you have in that drawer?”

“Survival tools. Coffee. Candy. Spoons. Mugs. Tampons. Baby food.” She shuffles stuff around. “And a knife.”

“What kind of knife?” Tealey wielding a knife was not something I had on my bingo card.Impressive.

“A switchblade. I was thrown against the wall once when I denied benefits to someone. I felt horrible about it and gave him twenty dollars. Guess it wasn’t enough.” Anger burns in my veins, and I clench my fists. He physically attacked her. Twenty bucks wasn’t what he was after. It’s bullshit she was put in that position.

“What the hell, Tealey? I never heard about that.”

“I think you were in Aspen at the time.” She starts eating again, leaving me stunned. What the hell? I was skiing when I should have been here for her. No one could have predicted the attack, but I had a right to know and make my own decision on how to react. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“We didn’t want to put a damper on your trip,” she says as if the attack was nothing. “And now we have a security system.”

I never thought about her job being dangerous. Glancing over my shoulder, I stare at the front entrance. Anyone could walk in off the street, and her cubicle is the second closest to the door. “That’s good, but how will another attack be prevented?”

“Sometimes people do desperate things. That’s the only time I’ve ever been threatened. Every other time I had met with him, he was fine, even optimistic about the future.”

I’m not going to harp on this to her, feeding a fear that I’m sure she’s tried to bury. But I’m glad she’s letting me in, sharing parts of herself that I never knew about before. Sharing her life with me—the good and bad parts. We all have them in varyingdegrees. I just hope her life isn’t on the line because of her chosen career.

Pushing aside my feelings on the matter, I turn back to her. I shift on the chair that was never meant to be comfortable and redirect. “You ready for the move?”

“Ready to get it over with. Cammie has a clipboard and printouts. I suspect it will move fast if she has her way. If Cade has his, he and Jackson will be drinking beer and taking their time.”

I chuckle. “That’s for sure.”

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