by Jamie Pope
She wasn’t one of the cultured young women who had spent their days in finishing school. He had met his share of New York society women, young and old, and he knew he hadn’t seen her in any of those places. Yet he did know her from somewhere. Or at least he thought he did.
She reminded him of all the girls he grew up with in Virginia. The nice ones who had married right out of college and were presidents of the PTA by the time he was a first-year attorney.
She shouldn’t be there.
“I’m Julian King.” He reached out and shook her hand. He held on for a moment longer than he should have. He had gotten caught up in how soft and small her hand felt inside of his and felt something pass between them as they looked at each other.
He mentally shook his head, realizing he must be imagining things.
He was just in a weird headspace after ending things with Regina. The young woman before him didn’t look more than twenty-two. He had been attracted to older women as long as he remembered. Younger ones were trouble. They weren’t as decisive. They always wanted a world of things he couldn’t deliver. He steered clear of anyone who was under thirty.
He cleared his throat and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Please have a seat and tell me what it is that I can do for you.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked. He had known she looked familiar but he couldn’t place her.
“You’re too young to have gone to high school with me so, no I don’t remember you.”
“We met briefly at a Christmas party last year.”
Julian had been to many Christmas parties, each one of them upscale. Maybe his snap judgment was wrong; maybe she was a society girl.
“Really? Which one?”
“Clive Daniels.”
“You know Clive?”
Clive was old money, but as down to earth as someone who grew up with everything could be.
“I know his wife. Her sister is my best friend. She spoke very highly of you. Said you could handle nearly any legal problem.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Julian knew one of the reasons he was hired at this firm was because he had connections. He could bring in big clients and earn the firm millions each year. He also knew it made the other lawyers hate him. But he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t here to make friends. “Tell me what I can do for you.”
Sunny took a deep breath and for the first time in their short meeting he saw something besides sweet innocence in her almond-shaped eyes. For a second she looked almost tortured.
“I’m a social worker . . .”
“You’re a social worker?” She wasn’t a society girl and she wasn’t some mixed-up college kid. She definitely couldn’t afford his services. “I wouldn’t think you were old enough for that kind of job.”
“I’m older than you think. I haven’t asked anyone if they would like fries with that in some time. May I continue?”
There was an edge to her. Despite that warm smile and those huge innocent eyes there was something a little fierce there. His respect for her grew.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Please do.”
“I work for the city, and my job mostly consists of placing children in foster homes.”
“A tough job,” he commented. He fully understood how difficult her job was and how little the city of New York paid its hardest working employees.
“Yes, thank you. I have one child who is about to come up for adoption, and I’m afraid that the situation might get complicated.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how I can help.” Unless this adoption involved some celebrity or political figure, his firm would not be interested in taking it on.
“Actually, you can help me a lot. That is, if you’re willing to waive your fee.”
“My fee? The way you say it makes it sound like I shouldn’t get paid for my work.”
“Of course, you should get paid for your work but what you charge for an hour, I make in a week.”
He knew that billing clients over a thousand dollars an hour was a great deal of money, but the way she said it made him feel almost dirty. He didn’t set the prices, the firm did, yet he felt the need to defend himself.
“It costs a lot to live in Manhattan.” That wasn’t much of a defense, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yes, and yet there are hundreds of thousands of people here who get by on a lot less. Listen, I’m not here to debate your prices. I’m here because I need your help.”
“All right, Ms. Gibson, even if I agreed to waive my fee, I still don’t see how I can help you. Most of my work is criminal. Although, if you think you have a lawsuit on your hands I might be able to advise you.”
“I need you to be the child’s law guardian until the adoption is finalized.”
A law guardian was an impartial person who reviewed the child’s situation and recommended the best option for the child to the court. It was simple. It basically was sticking yourself right in the middle of somebody else’s mess and Julian just wasn’t up for that.
“I’m sorry, but I really can’t help you with that. Family law is one of the areas I know nothing about. I can recommend a list of lawyers who would be more suitable. My secretary will fax them over to your workplace.”
“I don’t want anybody else,” she said, looking him right in the eye. “You’re the best in the city. I want you.”
The way she said it, the intensity in her voice, made him pause and stare at her for a moment. There was some toughness there. He didn’t expect that from the way she presented herself.
“If you have corporate or trust issues or ever need to sue somebody, I can help you, but your problem is out of my area of expertise.”
“You’ll want to take this case. I promise. Just let me explain. It’s a lot more complicated than it appears on the surface. The only reason I came to you is because I can’t do it by myself anymore.”
For a split second, he wanted to say yes. He wanted to help her, but common sense prevailed and he knew he couldn’t. She knocked him off balance. He couldn’t read her as easily as he would have liked. He couldn’t place her into a box like he did with everyone else and that meant he couldn’t work with her.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gibson,” he said, standing up. “I really can’t, but I will have my assistant fax over the list today.” He walked around his desk as she stood. “I hope everything works out.” He extended his hand to shake hers again. And there was that feeling again, that something that passed through him when he felt her soft hand in his. He tried to let her go, but she held on and squeezed his hand slightly.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. King.”
He watched her walk out, her hips gently switched from side to side, and he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be seeing the last of Sunshine Gibson.
Chapter 4
“I didn’t think my feet could get this big,” Arden said, looking down at them as she and Sunny sat across from each other at the kitchen table. “They’ve grown two sizes and my mother said they might not go back down. Hers never went back down.” She slumped over on to the table as much as her hugely pregnant belly would allow. “My shoes. I have such beautiful shoes.”
“Selfishly, I’m happy for your big feet. Your shoes are exactly my size.”
“My shoes have four-inch heels and pointy toes. You’re much more of a ballet flat girl than a heel girl. I didn’t think you liked my shoes.”
“You’re wrong. I love your shoes, but ballet flats are much more practical for me since I spend the majority of my day walking around New York City doing home visits. But sometimes I want to wear sexy shoes. Sometimes I want to wear a dress that doesn’t make me look like a Sunday schoolteacher. Sometimes I want to not be the person everybody thinks I am.”
“What’s wrong, Sunny?” Arden reached across the table and took her hand. “There’s something up with you lately.”
“It’s work stuff. I’m afraid that the adoption for one of my kids might fall through.
”
“I’m sorry, honey, but if you’ve done everything in your power that you could, you have to let it go. You can’t let it get to you.”
“I’m not sure I did everything in my power. I went to see Julian King yesterday.”
Arden frowned as she rubbed her growing belly. “Why? He usually does big celebrity cases. Plus, there’s no way in hell that you can afford him.”
“I went to him because we met at your sister’s Christmas party and your brother-in-law told me that he was one of the best lawyers in the city and to use him if I ever needed one.”
“But my brother-in-law is a millionaire with a food empire. All of his recommendations are top of the line. My husband once asked him where he got a T-shirt and he sent us to a store that was selling them for eight hundred dollars. Julian is the kind of lawyer you go to if you’re a famous athlete fighting a charge or if you get caught embezzling from your company. I guess I’m saying he’s the man you go to if you have money. He charges your weekly salary in an hour. You don’t have any money.”
“Okay, Arden. I get it. I’m poor. Do you want to talk about how I don’t have any parents next?”
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I just don’t understand why out of all the lawyers in this city you picked the most expensive one just because my rich brother-in-law said he was good.”
“I’m not an idiot, Arden. I want him to work for free.”
“And he agreed to that?”
Apparently, she was the only one who thought Julian King would waive his fee. “Well, no. He didn’t take me seriously at first. He looked at me and immediately thought I was some kid.”
“Sunny,” Arden said gently. “You do look like a kid. I’ve been with you when a bartender accused you of having a fake ID.”
Sunny rolled her eyes. Maybe she did look young but she stopped being a child twenty years ago. Maybe she never really was a child in the first place. Having a mother who left her locked in a closet had sucked the childhood right out of her.
“I don’t care. He had no right to be the smug stuck-up jackass he was.”
“So that’s why you hate how you look all of a sudden?”
“I don’t hate how I look. I just feel stuck sometimes. I’ve worn my hair like this since I was fourteen. I’ve had these shoes since college. I feel like everyone around me is evolving and moving on and I’m still here in the same place I was five years ago. And I’m just not so sure I want to be in that place anymore. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes. That makes a lot of sense.”
“How do we fix it?”
“I’m not sure, but let’s start by looking in my shoe closet.”
* * *
Being with Arden, playing in her closet, spending a few hours just being silly with her best friend had helped lighten Sunny’s mood. But then she went home to her tiny apartment and she was alone with the letters that were sitting in her jewelry box. The ones she felt compelled to read again.
And then Jeannie Earl called her. Another letter had arrived with more cash and a photograph of Soren when she was a baby. And Sunny knew that even if she wanted to give up this search for herself, she couldn’t give it up for Soren.
The next morning she couldn’t stop thinking about it so she left her apartment and started to walk, finding herself on the upper East Side. She loved this part of the city. She loved the way the old buildings looked. She loved the sidewalk cafés and looking into the windows of the stores she would never be able to afford. She had daydreamed of a life here when she was a little girl. Living in a grand apartment with a huge kitchen and big windows that let in all the light. She had also dreamed of waking up one day and finding her mother back to normal, a mother that would put her back into school, and one who didn’t think people were chasing them all the time.
Sunny knew it probably was just a coincidence. That Soren wasn’t her sister and her mother wouldn’t have reemerged to abandon another kid after twenty years. But she wasn’t sure she would be able to let it go unless she knew the truth.
Maybe hiring a high-priced attorney wasn’t the right move. She could hire a private detective. But, she couldn’t afford that either.
And what information could she give that would help unravel this mystery? She had only known her mother’s first name.
Her parents were never married. Sunny was so little when her mother told her about the love she had shared with her father. Girl Sunny thought it sounded terribly romantic. Woman Sunny realized that she had probably been the product of a torrid love affair with a soldier on leave. It probably lasted as long as it took for her father to get his next assignment. But her mother had made it sound so magical. As if they were soulmates who destiny had failed.
What kind of information was that to give to a private detective? Her mother had been mentally ill. As a child she didn’t have the right words for it, but now she could see things clearly. Her mother saw people who weren’t there. Heard voices that never made a sound. How could Sunny know for sure what was true and what was conjured up by her mother’s illness?
She didn’t have her original birth certificate. She didn’t know who her parents were or where she was born. No one had seemed to miss her or Grace. No one ever came looking for her. Her mother had kept her so hidden from the world she wasn’t sure that anyone knew she had existed until that police officer pulled her out of the closet. But Grace had to have had a family once upon a time. She had to have been someone’s daughter.
There was a little more information on Soren, which is why she thought she could turn to Julian who worked in a huge law firm and had all the resources one could ever dream of. Soren knew who her father was. He had been in her life briefly before her mother moved her up here. She knew his full name, where he was born, how he lived, and when he died. Sunny had found out everything she could about him. He was from the South and had been married to another woman when Soren was conceived. His name had not been put on any birth certificate and there was no piece of paper that linked him to Soren’s mama. She was a mystery too.
Soren refused to speak of her either out of anger or fear. It took Sunny a year to pry that little information from her.
She was walking past a beautiful prewar apartment building on her way to Central Park when she felt a large hand clamp around her wrist. She tensed for a brief moment before she twisted her arm to break the hold and raised her other hand to shove her palm into her assailant’s nose.
“Hey!” Julian King stepped away from her. His hands raised in defense. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
She let out a breath as her heartbeat slowed. “What the hell is the matter with you? You can’t go grabbing a woman in New York City unless you’re prepared to get your ass kicked.”
“I called your name twice, but you didn’t hear me.” She was surprised to see him, especially since she had just been thinking about the case she needed his help with. New York was a big city. She didn’t often bump into many people, especially ones who ran in such different circles. But maybe it was fate that she had decided to come to this section of the city at this time of day.
“I was lost in thought. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.” He shook his head. “Damn. I knew you would be trouble the moment I met you. Remind me to never sneak up behind you.”
“I can only remind you if this won’t be the last time we meet.”
His eyes flicked over her as he took her in. He was openly studying her and she wondered what he really thought about what he saw. “I was about to accuse you of stalking me but with that reaction I’m starting to think that your walking past my apartment building is a coincidence.”
She looked at the doorman-ed building that was steps away from Central Park. Of course he lived here. Most lawyers seven or eight years into their career couldn’t afford to live in a building like this, but Julian King had played professional football. He had been a star. He probably made more money than he could spend in two lifetimes and now
he made in a month what she made in a year. “So you live here?” She looked up at him. “You shouldn’t have told me that. Now I know where to find you.”
He wasn’t wearing a suit today unlike the last two times she saw him. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and gray shorts. He was put together but casual. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his powerful forearms. Sunny glanced down as his legs to see his thick muscular calves. He looked much more like a football player than an attorney. He was a huge man, one that looked like he picked women up and threw them over his shoulder when he wanted to have his way with them. But then there was his face, which was almost beautiful with his high cheekbones and square jaw. And his mouth. It was pouty and full. He had better lips than most women and for a moment Sunny wondered how they felt brushed across a throat or down the valley of a chest.
She wasn’t sure she liked Julian King but she was attracted to him on a primal level. She didn’t think much of it. Men who had as much testosterone as he did probably had that effect on a lot of women. But damn, he was nice to look at.
“So now you plan to stalk me? That sounds sinister from someone who looks like they still attend Sunday school,” he said.
“A slimy lawyer is calling someone else sinister? He who is without sin . . .”
One side of his mouth curled and he started walking. She fell into step beside him. “If I’m such a slimy lawyer, why did you want me to take your case?”
“I need the best. This family has been through a lot and they deserve it.”
“But I’ve told you that I’m not the right person to help you. I’ve been working on a lot of divorces lately. I literally tear families apart. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“But you can listen, right? And not brush me off just because I look young.”
“No, I brushed you off because you look young and you clearly have no way of paying me.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I was joking, but I’m a lawyer who is trying to make partner, whose firm looks at how much business I bring in, and taking your case wouldn’t be good for my career.”
