I frowned. She was apologizing too much for having a little nap. “Not a problem, Fiona. I’m glad you were comfortable enough to relax.” I leaned forward, dropping my voice. “These chairs are great for naps. I’ve had a couple in them as well.” I refrained from saying sometimes it was the only sleep I managed to get. Instead, I winked, easing the tension in the air. “As your attorney, your secret is safe with me.” I sat back, crossing my legs. “And I told you, it’s Hal.”
She sank back into her seat, a long sigh escaping her lips. “Thank you, Hal. Your office is nice. I felt quite…safe here.”
Her words bothered me.
“You don’t feel safe, Fiona?”
Her gaze skittered away. “I’ve been rather anxious.”
“Understandable.” Sensing that was all I was going to get out of her at the moment, I indicated the platter of food on the table across from us. “Why don’t we eat, and then we can discuss your case?”
“Okay.”
I smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “Great. I’m starving.”
Fiona
Watching Hal eat fascinated me. He was like a starving wolf, barely sitting down before grabbing a sandwich and tearing into it. He had been the same when I watched him at the bar on Friday, eating his burger with gusto, licking his fingers and polishing off everything on his plate, the look of enjoyment evident on his face.
Wordlessly, I poured him a coffee and lifted the cream, arching my eyebrow in question. He nodded around a mouthful, and I poured in the cream, stopping when the coffee reached a deep caramel color. He accepted the cup, still chewing, and already on his second sandwich. He pushed the plate in my direction, and I took one, nibbling on it, my appetite nonexistent these days.
Scott would have been overjoyed to hear that. He was constantly at me about food. What I should eat or not eat. How much I had on my plate. Constant jabs about how I had let myself go and how amazing his partners’ wives looked all the time. It didn’t matter what I prepared; he criticized my choice. Criticized me. Dining with him had become akin to having a tooth pulled—it was a painful process. His diet was as rigid as he was, and I couldn’t imagine him enjoying something as simple as a sandwich the way Hal was doing right now. Everything Scott ate was done with a disdainful expression, as if the food had offended him in some way.
It probably had.
Hal leaned back in his chair, still eating, although his pace had slowed. He didn’t push or ask any questions, allowing me the space I needed. He seemed to be lost to his thoughts, giving me the chance to study him again.
He was a good-looking man. His dark brown hair was swept high off his forehead in a widow’s peak, short on the sides, and brushed until it gleamed. He had a moustache and short beard, carefully trimmed and neat. It emphasized the sharp angles of his jaw and full mouth. His eyes were a deep navy—so dark, at first, I had thought them brown, but up close, I could see the blue catching the light. His expression was serious, intense at all times, with shadows that seemed permanently etched under his eyes adding to the severity of his expression. Even when he smiled, he never seemed to relax. Yet, unlike my soon-to-be ex-husband, Hal’s intensity wasn’t underwritten with a general contempt for everything around him. There was kindness in his eyes—something I had been missing desperately.
Hal was taller than me by at least a foot. He had wide shoulders that tapered to a slender waist and long legs—he wore suits well. I had no doubt they were custom made, the way his jackets clung to those broad shoulders. And he had beautiful hands. Long, elegant fingers with well-trimmed nails. He used them for emphasis when speaking, and I found the actions mesmerizing.
I shook my head at my unusual thoughts. He was my lawyer. Or at least, I hoped he would be. Scott hated him. Despised him on every level. Why, I never understood. He battled with other attorneys and remained impassive, yet Hal seemed to get under his skin. When Scott threw me out, once I recovered from the shock, I knew there was only one attorney for me.
Hal hadn’t believed me at first, but something had changed his mind. Whatever it was, I was grateful. I needed his expertise and dislike of Scott to make sure I wasn’t railroaded by my soon-to-be ex-husband.
I glanced up to find Hal’s gaze focused on me as he sipped his coffee. His plate was empty. In fact, the tray of sandwiches was gone, aside from the mostly uneaten one on my plate.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pushing away my plate.
“You were lost in thought. I didn’t want to disturb.”
His words made me laugh quietly. “Scott would tell you I often am. He called me a pathetic dreamer more than once.”
“Scott is a narcissistic asshole. His opinions matter little to me, and they should to you as well.” He arched his eyebrow. “Especially now.”
I lifted one shoulder.
“Is that all you’re going to eat? I could order something else for you.”
“No, I’m fine. Just not overly hungry.”
He tapped his fingers on the table. “Forgive me for being blunt, Fiona, but you are much too thin. If I take your case, you need to know it’s going to be rough. I’ve been up against your husband many times, and he doesn’t fight fair. It’ll be especially bad since he is fighting for himself. I need you healthy and strong so you can fight back.”
My bark of laughter was harsh and so was my voice when I spoke.
“Scott would tell you I’m not thin enough.” I stood and paced around the room, suddenly too tense to sit any longer. “I was never enough in any way. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not thin enough. Strong enough. I was simply never enough for him!”
Hal didn’t react to my tirade, but he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “That right there is what I need. Your anger. I want all the details I require to break him.”
“You hate him as much as he hates you. Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because we’re opposites. I fight for my client. For what is right. I take on cases I believe in and help people. Scott only wants to win. It doesn’t matter to him who he represents as long as the dollars are there. He has no issue using whatever tactic he can come up with—no matter how dirty or underhanded it is—if it means he can win. He wants the notoriety, attention, and money.”
I studied him for a moment. “You have all that as well. You have a reputation as a shark in family law.”
“One difference, Fiona. I want what is best for my client. I’m an asshole for them—not to them.”
It was a good analogy. I nodded, frowning, feeling tense and anxious.
He leaned back with a smirk. “Just don’t ask my ex-girlfriends their opinion of me.” He met my eyes and winked. I had to laugh, knowing he was trying to break the tension. His personal life wasn’t any of my concern, although I had heard rumors.
I had to ask the question. “Am I your client?”
He paused before responding. “I have one rule. Truth. You tell me what I need to know—you give me the facts—and I will take your case and do everything I can to win. You lie to me, you omit details because they embarrass you or you hope I don’t find out, and we’re done. Because I will find them. If you can promise me you can be honest, then yes, I’m willing to take you on as a client.”