It Started with a Kiss

These guys are on fire today. It feels good to laugh without the dread of this lawsuit hanging over our heads. It’s not dismissed or even settled as a case, but to know it’s dead in the water gives much-needed relief.

I just wish I could share this victory with a certain blue-eyed beauty who likes to challenge every part of my life, especially my patience. Two months is too long without having her in my life, her kissing me good morning or falling asleep curled around me on the couch at night.

Does it matter anymore? We don’t even speak or text. I thought we were pausing so she could care for her dad. I didn’t realize her stay might become permanent.

There was no big fight or low blows exchanged. Nothing was said to terminate our relationship. No production was made at all. We didn’t end things on a keep-in-touch basis. It was more of a cold turkey kind of thing. Not sure why other than it would also give us time to reflect on—life, us, and how we see our futures playing out. It was a whisper, a mutual understanding that our timing was off.

For the time being. Not forever.

Laughter brings me back to the conversation. Rad and Cade are my best friends, but the Christiansen brothers are damn good entertainment. And they’re my friends, but I like to give them a hard time since they’re also family. Family . . .

Get your mind in the game, St. James.

Chuckling, I set the files down. “Oh, yeah? So how did you crack the mystery?”

Andrew sits in the chair across from me, a smug smirk still on his face. “We don’t have records for the calls Brent made on his cell to Morgenstern, though the subpoena may still come through, but we do have two employees willing to go on record that they overheard Brent advising Morgenstern to buy in on the stock.”

“Brent went rogue? That fucking weasel.”

“Tell me about it,” he continues. “We hadn’t even put the stock in our index as it wasn’t verified.”

Nick leans forward. “He not only went rogue but he was also making shit up. After discovering what was overheard, it led to finding that stock’s company is hidden under an umbrella based in the Bahamas. Ready for this? The company is listed under one of Brent’s old girlfriends. He never went on a honeymoon. He never even got married.”

“Fucking hell. The company gave him an expensive gift, too,” Andrew says.

“Let the gift go,” Nick says. “Brent was in the Bahamas setting up an offshore account.”

“The twists and turns are captivating.” I rub my chin. “Can we touch the offshore account?”

“We can’t, but the government can.” Nick kicks back with his feet on the coffee table. “And has.”

Andrew adds, “Nick isn’t heading up this case as it’s not in his wheelhouse, but the attorney working with the prosecutor said that even though the money will take time to process, if this all pans out, Morgenstern should get his money back minus the fees on the case. The fees could be millions. The government loves a surcharge and those all-encompassing admin fees.”

I glance at my phone, a habit I already had in place, but in the past two months, there’s only one name I want to see on the screen. The first month flew by since I was buried in work and dealing with this lawsuit. This month . . . slow as molasses.

A reminder plays on a loop in my head; she needs to be in LA as much as her father wants her there. He’s not a bad person. He’s just done bad things, but not unforgivable. Marlow needs this time with him to heal the wounds he made worse when he threw salt on them.

According to Tealey, she found a part-time job at a local gallery in Brentwood. I’m sure it’s a good distraction while her dad is getting treatments and in and out of doctor appointments. What do I expect her to do? Sit around and do nothing?

It only bothers me because I didn’t get the information directly from her. It sows the seeds that the fear of losing her instilled. My nightmare come true, making the nights even more brutal. The space beside me in bed remains empty, waiting for her to return, but little by little, she’s settling back into her old life in LA. Maybe she’s still a California girl at heart.

At least it sounds like her father might have found his miracle.

“You don’t seem happy,” Nick says, his brows lowered in confusion.

I rock back in my chair. “I’ve been thinking about it, and then I did some research. When a brokerage discovers insider trading or anything along those lines, and it makes headlines, business booms fifteen percent on average. Why do you think that is?” I lean forward again, my mind spinning from the possibilities. “I’ll tell you why. Because the headline may seem like bad PR for the brokerage, but the average investor sees it as an opportunity to work with brokers who have the inside track.”