NICK
Enzo: Where are you?
I glance down at my phone, but don't reply because I'm running down the corridor to the courtroom. Dane and I stayed up way too late last night consumed by one another. This morning, he had to meet with a client and I overslept. Of course, I overslept on the worst possible day. I'd barely had time to brush my teeth, throw on a suit, and grab my bag before I was running out the door. I had to put my tie on in the car and forgo coffee altogether.
Eventually, I make it to the courtroom and push inside. The room hushes and I keep my gaze diverted to the floor as I rush to the front. I find Enzo and sit beside him.
"So glad you could make it," a familiar voice deadpans.
I jerk my head up and lock with a pair of green eyes. Max Rowe. Fuck. He's at the bench, a gavel resting in front of him, dressed in a black robe. His eyes are narrowed and he seems annoyed by my presence.
"I apologize, Your Honor."
He picks up a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses and sits them on the end of his nose as he looks over a file. We spend the next half hour on edge, as Max drills us with questions and wants clarification on parts of the reports. By the end of it, I'm feeling doubtful.
"Permission to approach the bench," I utter.
Max narrows his eyes at me but then gives me a clipped nod. I rise from my seat and stride over to the podium. His jaw clenches as he regards me with scrutiny. As though I'm not good enough to be an attorney—I'm not. As though I'm not good enough to be Dane's—I am.
"The little guy, Xavier," I say softly. "He asked Santa for him and his brother not to be hurt anymore."
Max's gaze softens slightly. "Everything checks out here." He thumps the paper.
"It does..." I trail off, feeling defeated. Then I remember the steely strength in those boys' gray eyes. "But sometimes what's on the surface isn't always right."
He cocks his head slightly as he watches me. "I agree."
"There are some other places that have been checked and verified. Safer places. All we're asking is to get them moved," I tell him.
"I'm sorry, counselor, but I don't think that's all you're asking. I feel like you're asking a lot more than even I'm able to give." He frowns and my heart sinks. "But something tells me you're the kind of guy who finds a way to get what he wants anyway. For the life of me, I don't want to help you...for my own reasons. But I will. I'll grant all five children to be placed in one of the proposed homes."
I gape at him, my heart thudding. "Really?"
"Something tells me that won't be enough, though."
"For now, it will be. Thank you, Your Honor."
The gavel slams down and I feel like I've won.
On so many levels.
Two months later...
"Are you sureI'm welcome?" I ask as Dane pulls his Porsche into Max's driveway. "The guy doesn't exactly like me."
He scoffs. "Dorian does. She wears the pants."
I roll my eyes but can't help but chuckle. Dorian has the most issues with computers at the firm. I swear she breaks them on purpose just so she can show me pictures of her son. When I'd confessed about my run-in with Max at the bar, where I nearly kicked his ass over Dane, she just laughed and told me everything was going to be okay.
