KEPT: A Second Chance Fairy Tale (2 page)

The next day, as I sat behind my desk in a corner office located in a downtown high-rise building, wishing to be someone more than I already was, my four-year-old son died tragically without ever hearing me tell him I loved him again.

Michael

“O
H, WELL, GOOD. YOU’RE STILL
here,” I hear Lillie comment as she enters my office. “I figured you’d already left for the evening.”

It’s no shock I’m here at this hour and Lillie, the one woman in my life who knows me better than my own mother, shouldn’t be surprised. I’m usually the first to arrive and the last to leave, unlike my partner Corbin.

I met Corbin Mercer during our first year at law school. We were both civil law majors. Once we graduated, we stayed in touch, as some people do. After a few years of trying to adapt to a life working for others who didn’t appreciate all we had to offer, we looked for another opportunity and decided to open our own firm, which we named Mercer Law.

There’s a reason I’m not listed as an equally named partner. There are vast personality differences between Corbin and myself. He doesn’t mind wining and dining our clients, remembering their names and faces, and celebrating their personal successes. He’s also not a private person.

However, I am.

I don’t like conversing with those I don’t personally know, rubbing elbows over drinks, or attempting to understand their ‘feelings’. I want no part of it. I’m steadfast and mechanical and, thus far, I see no reason to change.

“I’m still here, Lillie.” I sigh, stating the obvious while ignoring what I already know are her pursed lips at my reticent reaction. I don’t have to look up to note her disappointment, so I continue to focus on what I was doing before she stopped in.

Lillie Miles is a fifty-nine-year-old grandmother of three. She’s been my secretary—or
personal assistant
, as she prefers to be called—for the last eight years. Lillie is the one person in my life I allow to speak to me as she does – blunt, direct, and blatantly bossy. She’s grossly overpaid, but I’ve learned to consent to her overstated salary since she keeps every facet of my life seamlessly in order.

Unfortunately, Lillie’s also planning an early retirement. Her going-away party, which of course she’s planning herself, is scheduled two weeks from today.

“I’ve got a few things that need your immediate attention, if you have a minute.”

“I have exactly three for you, so make them count,” I reply, breaking my concentration on the contact and scheduling calendar program on my laptop. It’s one she made and it’s complicated, so I have no fucking idea how to use it.

“What do you need?” I prod while she stares at me with her well-practiced look of disapproval.

Coming at me with the soft grace she always carries, Lillie drops a familiar-looking rental agreement on my desk while sighing through her words. “Her lease is up again. The rent is increasing, and the amenities are decreasing.”

Grabbing the file from my desk, I look it over, noting her observations.

She’s right.

Unfortunately, the sorry son of a bitch who owns the building is, once again, raising the rent, yet he’s done nothing to improve the living conditions of the tenants.

Namely Lucy Monroe and her young son, Dillon.

Lillie makes her way to the side of my desk and sits on the edge. She braces her hands on either side of her small body. Her long, greying hair is pulled into its usual high bun, and her worried smile looks down on me with resignation. Even her typically mischievous grey eyes are alight with unmasked concern.

“Are you going to take care of them forever?” she questions quietly in a serious tone, referring to the names listed on the paper in front of us.

“We’ve discussed this and the answer is still, and will always be, yes.”

Sighing, she stands and walks around the other side of my desk to take a seat in the black leather chair across from it.

“What’s the issue this time, Lillie?” I clip before she’s able to begin her lecture.

“What’s the issue?” she repeats with narrowed eyes. “Pick one!”

I already sense, by the vexed look on her face, that I’m going to let her have her say just as I always do. It’s easier than mincing words, and it’s safer not to risk losing her any sooner than I already am by lashing out at her unsolicited advice.

And so it goes…

“This needs to stop, Michael. You know more about a woman you’ve never met than any person should. And look.” She points to the file. “Her rent is increasing again and, judging by the information listed from her landlord, you’re still planning to be billed the difference.” She sighs softly, then says again, “This needs to stop.”

Hearing Lillie list all the things I’ve done, and put in a manner that’s meant to be insulting, my face grows tight.

Beyond the rent, I pay a fair share to Lucy’s landlord to buy his silence. The lazy, vile man gets an extra ten percent to keep my secret. After nearly five years of this, I’ve been able to convince myself it’s nothing more than a business arrangement. However, it stems from matters of the heart.

After pushing the folder away, I remove my glasses and lay them on top. “Do you have a point, Miss Miles?”

She sneers briefly at my formal address before voicing her thoughts directly. “Why won’t you at least meet her? Tell her what you’re doing and why. Give her a chance and maybe…”

My focus moves to my hand. The scar along my finger itches in memory of the night a police officer came to my door to tell me my world, along with a woman named Lucy Monroe’s, had crumbled. The events of that night produced a sharp twist of fate, which I felt deeply. It was cruel, deep, and exacting.

Raising the same hand to stop her from talking while giving her a stern look of disapproval, I cut her off. “This isn’t a debate. It hasn’t been for the last five years. Leave it alone.”

“I hate this for you both,” Lillie counters in a soft voice. “She deserves to know she’s being taken care of, and by whom.”

“Are we done here?”

Standing up and smoothing her long, floral skirt, she pins me with yet another annoyed glare. “I don’t know, Michael. Are we?”

I slide the laptop’s screen in her direction, letting her see the mess I’ve created in the calendar only she can keep diligently.

Her abrupt laugh comes bursting out into the room, and I narrow my eyes as she mocks me. “For a man of your age, with such an excellent education, you really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?” she smarts, then grabs my mouse and starts clicking again and again.

“Isn’t this what I pay you for?”

As she continues flipping the virtual pages and organizing everything once again, she
tsks
. “You and Mr. Mercer are going to fall apart when I’m gone. Let me remind you that you’ve yet to hire my replacement.”

“I haven’t found anyone with all your charm, Lil,” I tease, but it’s in my typical sullen tone.

The applicants we’ve interviewed so far have been shit. Either they’ve recently graduated from college and insist on being overpaid before proving their worth, or they’ve bounced from job to job without establishing any type of loyalty or commitment to any company that’s hired them before.

“Yes, all my charm,” she flips back.

“You’d make me a very happy man if you’d stay on for another year. It’d give me more time to find someone willing to put up with me. Then you could train them to run my life as well as you do.”

Lillie
tsks
once more. “I gave you and Corbin my formal notice a year ago. You’ve already had that time, and you ignored it,” she reminds me. Once she’s finished sorting my schedule, she walks to the door, glancing at her watch. “It’s after six. Don’t you have a date with what’s-her-name tonight?”

What’s-her-name. Really?

“Her name is Ashlie, and you already know this.”

She turns herself around in the doorway. I don’t miss the sarcasm in her voice as she comments, “Ah, yes. Miss
Ashlie
.” Her hand positions over her chest as she mocks her feigned forgetfulness. “Such a pretty name for such a young tart.”

“Lillie…,” I start to growl out, but stop. Sparring words with Lillie isn’t worth the wasted effort. Nor is defending my relationship with Ashlie.

“Well, anyway,” she dismisses. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Mentally counting the days until I’ve lost her, I reply, holding up the file, “I’ll sign these and put them on your desk. You’ll get them where they need to go?”

She gives me a ridiculous salute before turning around and walking directly into my partner, Corbin.

“Lillie.” He nods. “Good evening.”

Lillie takes a step back and looks up at him with caution. It’s then I hear her stage whisper, as I’m sure I was meant to. “Talk to him. He’s in denial. You both need to consider at least
one
of the candidates I’ve recommended.”

Corbin smiles at her typical bossiness, then looks at me. “He’s still trying to talk you into staying, isn’t he?” he assumes, to which she nods. “We’ll have a chat.”

“See you Monday, too, then,” Lillie states before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

Corbin, taking in my ragged appearance after dealing with Lillie, walks toward me with a smirk. “Good god, that woman is a pain in the ass.”

“She is,” I whole-heartedly agree. “She’s also the hardest-working employee we have on staff. Including you and me.”

“How’s it going to work with you being bossed around by anyone other than Lillie?” he questions, knowing I’m struggling to come to terms with her retirement.

“It won’t work. Lil’s the only one with a pass to do that.”

“A pass
you’ve
given her.” He smiles smugly.

“The woman keeps my life together. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.”

“I guess,” he utters to himself.

After setting my glasses carefully in my briefcase, I rub my eyes and question, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” he returns. He rests his hands on the back of the chair in front of me. “I know we haven’t talked about it other than in passing, but I’d still like us to consider taking on another partner at the firm. We need to expand.”

“The market right now is shit. What’s the rush?”

“
Because
the market is shit. We need new clients because those we have aren’t referring anyone.”

“They aren’t referring because they aren’t divorcing,” I cite for his benefit.

“They can still have accidents, can’t they? People have those all the time.”

“Corbin,” I address in a stern voice, already knowing he won’t waver. “It bothers me to know you get excited about our dear Mrs. Jenkins taking a fall on the ice in front of Walmart, hoping like hell she sues them for negligence.”

His expression is one of serious insult.

“I don’t think
that
way. I’m just thinkin’ it’d be a good idea if we started to pursue other opportunities. This would keep Walmart safe from litigation, and also save our asses during this recession.”

Shaking my head, I return, “Good God, Corbin. Do you watch the market at all? We aren’t
in
a recession. Last year, we made enough to donate to all those charities Lillie insisted on. We’re not hurting.”

Corbin gives me an incredulous look, but it’s true. Our firm may not be as vast as many others are in this city, but we carry a fair amount of active clients. We don’t need to solicit for more.

“You know what I’m talking about. I just want us to get serious. That’s all.”

“Got anyone particular in mind?”

“I do.” He smirks. “But it’ll require you to play the role of eligible bachelor in order to woo her.”

“I
am
eligible, but so are you,” I needlessly remind him. “Who are we talking about?”

“Jane Gilroy,” he announces. As he does, I roll my eyes and look to the ceiling.

Jane Gilroy is a challenging woman. It’s not because she’s a woman, either. It’s because she’s been around this business for a long time. She’s a sixty-something, self-serving, self-indulgent go-getter, who has nothing more to do with her time than seek out good investments and use them to her advantage.

“Does she even practice law anymore?” I ask, immediately on the defensive.

I’m not completely against the idea of expanding our practice. I focus on divorce and the custody battles that most often come with it. Corbin handles the majority of our civil litigation cases. The rest of the staff specialize in other areas, including the small amount of the criminally accused we represent.

Jane would be a good addition, considering she’s been around a long time and has expertise in many areas, frequently dabbling in all of them.

Pleading with his hands in front of him, he states his case. “Hear me out. She has wealthy clients and a fuck of a lot of connections. She also has more money than sense.”

“Always about the money, isn’t it?” I mock.

“She has friends in high places, too,” he continues. “On paper, she’s the ideal candidate for new partner.”

“On
paper
, but business isn’t only on paper. It’s also about cultivating relationships.”

“Says the man who spends hours and hours behind the desk avoiding people so he doesn’t have to talk to them.”