Dating isn't easy. Finding love is harder. But being a Delaney makes it all a thousand times worse because let's face it, with parents like theirs, the NextGen never stood a chance.
11 short stories following the disastrous love lives of:
Seraphina...
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It's gone 6 pm and I'm pouring myself a glass of wine, having had a rough day at work. My mind is so distracted by Evander Charles and yet another proposition that I can't concentrate on anything. My attempts to pool together a divorce settlement between the Luzhins is going terribly, and all my other cases are headed down an equally disastrous path. It got so bad today that I had to admit, for the first time in my entire career, to Dan that I needed help.
He sent a young paralegal to help me by the name of Corinne. She's been at the firm for a few months, and before that at a rival firm, namely, the one where Spencer works. Corinne has what I can only describe as an eidetic memory who can not only remember settlements to within a penny of their worth but can name all parties in the case, the year, and who the judge was. There was a reason that she pulled a scrunched up face when I told her all about Judge Foley and the fact that I'm on a countdown to reaching a deal, else the judge will make it for me.
After five hours of crunching numbers and assets, Corinne looked at her watch and demanded that we leave before five pm. Nothing good comes from being here after five, she said. And with that, she made sure that I walked out with her on the hour.
The second I kicked off my shoes and changed into my comfiest loungewear, I felt my body relax slightly, but wine is a good way to help me loosen up, too. The second I started pouring, Spencer rang.
"Seraphina, who is Bindi?" Spencer's voice asks down the line.
Frowning, I pick up my glass and head towards the living room. Bindi was not a name that I want to hear, not after the events of last night. For the love of all that is holy, why did I ever think that drinking with Martha would, in any way, actually help with my Evander situation. Once I told her (and Keira) all about him, the chase, the fleeting moment a few days ago where I was so close to sleeping with him, Martha was encouraging me to head over to meet him, keep to the rendezvous, and fuck his brains out, as she so eloquently put it.
Thankfully, I was too drunk to make wise decisions. And poor decisions. Plus, the more I drank, the more I was started to regret getting involved with Evander. What good can come of sleeping with the boss? Knowing my luck, it would all turn out horrifically, and one of us would have to leave, and it wouldn't be the named partner, would it?
Well, you could always get yourself a boyfriend, Martha had smiled. Plus, the ball is only a few days away so you need a date and a boyfriend is a permanent date. Oh, I can get you one! Yes, I have an excellent track record of setting people up. James and Nia ended up together because of me and now look at them.
I didn't want to be the one to tell her that she didn't actually set Uncle James up with his wife, but who am I to destroy her fun. Instead, I placated her and told her to do her worst.
Throwing myself down to sit on the edge of the couch, I place my glass down on the coffee table, before answering Spencer's question. "That would be my sister. Why do you ask?"
