could hear their laughter, but opening the window would only bring in the noise from the city. The sirens and honking of horns drown out any sounds of laughter that there might be, and that is what I need now. I need something happy.
Happiness is only going to come in the form of sticking it to Elijah. I have to prove to a hopefully impartial judge that I’m the best mother to Lucy and that she needs to live with me. But I can’t do that alone. I need help.
Slowly, I push away from the window, and my steps falter as my robe brushes against my unlit Christmas tree. So much has changed in the past few days, and yet the present from Travis still remains unopened, nestled underneath the branches. I know he means well, but his actions have put my life in turmoil. Sighing, I leave the box there and make my way to the shower. It’s another quiet place where I can pour out my tears and hopefully wash away the last forty-eight hours of my life. If Travis hadn’t come over when he did, if he hadn’t been drinking or if Elijah had left minutes before, I don’t think I’d be standing under the hot spray with my hands covering my face, screaming angrily at the world.
* * *
The offices of Abbott and Abbott are quiet, and according to the receptionist, most of the associates are on vacation and the interns have gone home for winter break. Irvin, though, is in the office, preparing for the hearing that Travis will have next week, and I’m here seeking his help.
“Mr. Abbott will see you now, Ms. Blackwell.”
I smile softly and nod a thank-you in the receptionist’s direction and head toward Irvin’s office. Normally, a lawyer would come out and greet their client, or prospective client in my case, but I lied and told Irvin I needed to see him about Travis. I didn’t want to be told over the phone that there’s a conflict of interest. I want Irvin to see it in my eyes when I tell him the story, when I tell him everything, and beg for him to help me.
“Saylor, I’m surprised to see you since Jeffrey said you’d no longer be working with Travis,” he says as he stands up to greet me with a handshake. “Please, sit down.” Irvin motions toward one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “So what’s going on?”
I sit and put my bag in my lap; I slide my hand in and grasp the summons. “Thank you for seeing me, but I’m not here about Travis…exactly.”
“Oh?” he says, leaning forward.
With a quick shake of my head, I look down at my bag and sigh before pulling out the papers that are currently destroying my life. “My ex has decided to make his first appearance in my daughter’s life, and he’s asking the courts for full legal custody of her.” I hand him the papers and watch as he opens the trifolded document.
“An unfit parent?”
I pull my lips together and nod. “I’m not, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I would never expect you to be. Granted, I have never seen you interact with your daughter. But her father seems to think you are.”
“Because of Travis.”
“Excuse me?” he says, setting the papers down.
I close my eyes and pray that I can get through this without crying. “About two years ago, Travis and I…” I trail off, blanking on how I can describe what happened between us without cheapening it or making me look like a whore.
“You engaged in sexual activity?”
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like a medical experiment.” I try to laugh, but he doesn’t find any humor in my joke. I adjust myself in my chair, growing uncomfortable under his judgmental gaze. “Look, this is really hard for me to say, but I’m going to come right out with it.”
“That’d be best.”
“Right. So the night of the annual Rotary gala, Travis and I went back to his place. I drove because I didn’t want to leave my car overnight in the parking garage. When we got to his place, we drank more and ended up having sex. At some point after, I received a text from Jeffrey stating that people had seen me leave with Travis, and he reminded me of his policy.”
“Which is?” Irvin interrupts.
“No fraternization with the clients.”
“Yet you went home with him?”
I nod and wish I could blame it on being drunk or unaware, but I can’t. And I won’t. I went home with him because I was attracted to him as a person, not because he’s Travis Kidd from the Boston Renegades. “I did but left in a panic after the text from Jeffrey. Still drunk, I got behind the wheel of my car and ended up crashing into a telephone pole. I was arrested and charged with a DUI. Because it was my first offense, I was given probation. One of the conditions of my probation is that I stay out of bars or where alcohol is served. If it’s a work function, I have to get permission from my probation officer.”
“Why are you here, Saylor?” he asks, likely growing frustrated with my story.
“Because I need your help. I need someone powerful enough to fight my ex in court, to prevent him from taking my daughter away. He doesn’t know about the arrest, at least not yet, and I don’t want him to use it against me.”
“He must know something. He’s claiming that you’re an unfit parent.”
I look away, unable to maintain eye contact with him. “That’s because of Travis.”
“He’s your client.”