Read Online Bachelor (Rixton Falls #2) by Winter Renshaw - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Winter Renshaw
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shoulders weighted down from years of bearing everyone else’s burdens. “What happened to justice?”
He leans back, his chair creaking and popping as he spins to face the picture window to his side.
“I ask myself that every day.” He shakes his head, and for the second time in my life, I find the magic around my father’s façade to be more illusion than anything else. “Sometimes, you do what’s best for your career, and sometimes, that isn’t always what’s best for your clients.”
His words are a punch to my gut, and I find myself speechless for a moment.
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying.” His eyes snap in mine. “You’re young. You have a lot to learn. You have a long career ahead of you. Stick to the safe cases for now. Stick to what you know. Don’t get involved in the Randalls’ family drama unless you’re explicitly hired to do so, and even then, I’d refer them to some shark in Manhattan who thinks these cases are a dime a dozen.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough to take on this case.” God, I feel like I’m fucking thirteen years old. “So spending the majority of my twenties studying law was for nothing.”
“You’re a damn fine lawyer, Derek.” Dad slams his clenched fist on his desk, and his pens jump in unison. “Damn fine.”
“But what?”
“Do you realize how bad this is going to look?” His dark brows meet. “You’re hired to look after her money, and now you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, convincing her there’s a case that needs to be billed, extra work to be done. You’re not doing this for free, Derek.”
“Of course not.” God forbid the practice misses a single billed hour. “And I’m a professional. This won’t look bad. Serena’s a good person. She deserves her name back. Her reputation. Her inheritance.”
“What’s this Serena like?” His tone changes. He’s baiting me.
“Why does that matter?”
“How would you describe her?”
I laugh to myself, keeping a straight face. I’m onto him. “You want me to tell you she’s beautiful. You want me to say she’s lovely and intelligent and the epitome of grace and class, and then you’re going to accuse me of having a thing for her, and then you’ll claim my judgment is clouded, and I should be removed from my role as conservator.”
His jaw juts out, his arms folding. “You think like your old man. One step ahead.”
“She’s my client. That’s all she’ll ever be. No boundaries will be crossed. No good names will be tarnished. I’m a professional.”
He studies me, one eye pinched.
“You have my word,” I say.
My father’s phone rings—a timely interruption—and he presses the speaker button with a meaty knuckle.
“Is Derek in there with you?” Gladys’s voice pierces my eardrums.
“Yes, Gladys. I’m in here.”
“Kyla’s on line two.” She hangs up.
“What the hell does Kyla want on a Wednesday?” Dad gives me a questioning stare, and I roll my eyes before heading back to my office because I have no fucking clue.
I groan into my receiver when I’m at my desk a moment later. “What do you need?”
My ex-wife harrumphs. “Always so excited to talk to me.”
“Is Haven okay?”
Her pause sends an electrical current down my chest.
“Of course she’s okay, Derek.” She spits her words through the phone. “To imply otherwise is just . . . not cool.”
“Then why are you bothering me at the office in the middle of the week? Shouldn’t you be in Pilates class? Or are Wednesdays for barre? No, wait. Hot yoga. My mistake.”
Kyla sighs. “You’re just mad that my body looks better now than it ever has, and for the first time, you don’t get to enjoy it.”
“Yes, yes,” I say. “I’m well aware that your sculpted ass is for the new man in your life. Or should I say old man? Isn’t he twice your age?”
She doesn’t respond, and I grin ear-to-ear at the image of her fuming silently from her sun-filled,
He leans back, his chair creaking and popping as he spins to face the picture window to his side.
“I ask myself that every day.” He shakes his head, and for the second time in my life, I find the magic around my father’s façade to be more illusion than anything else. “Sometimes, you do what’s best for your career, and sometimes, that isn’t always what’s best for your clients.”
His words are a punch to my gut, and I find myself speechless for a moment.
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying.” His eyes snap in mine. “You’re young. You have a lot to learn. You have a long career ahead of you. Stick to the safe cases for now. Stick to what you know. Don’t get involved in the Randalls’ family drama unless you’re explicitly hired to do so, and even then, I’d refer them to some shark in Manhattan who thinks these cases are a dime a dozen.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough to take on this case.” God, I feel like I’m fucking thirteen years old. “So spending the majority of my twenties studying law was for nothing.”
“You’re a damn fine lawyer, Derek.” Dad slams his clenched fist on his desk, and his pens jump in unison. “Damn fine.”
“But what?”
“Do you realize how bad this is going to look?” His dark brows meet. “You’re hired to look after her money, and now you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, convincing her there’s a case that needs to be billed, extra work to be done. You’re not doing this for free, Derek.”
“Of course not.” God forbid the practice misses a single billed hour. “And I’m a professional. This won’t look bad. Serena’s a good person. She deserves her name back. Her reputation. Her inheritance.”
“What’s this Serena like?” His tone changes. He’s baiting me.
“Why does that matter?”
“How would you describe her?”
I laugh to myself, keeping a straight face. I’m onto him. “You want me to tell you she’s beautiful. You want me to say she’s lovely and intelligent and the epitome of grace and class, and then you’re going to accuse me of having a thing for her, and then you’ll claim my judgment is clouded, and I should be removed from my role as conservator.”
His jaw juts out, his arms folding. “You think like your old man. One step ahead.”
“She’s my client. That’s all she’ll ever be. No boundaries will be crossed. No good names will be tarnished. I’m a professional.”
He studies me, one eye pinched.
“You have my word,” I say.
My father’s phone rings—a timely interruption—and he presses the speaker button with a meaty knuckle.
“Is Derek in there with you?” Gladys’s voice pierces my eardrums.
“Yes, Gladys. I’m in here.”
“Kyla’s on line two.” She hangs up.
“What the hell does Kyla want on a Wednesday?” Dad gives me a questioning stare, and I roll my eyes before heading back to my office because I have no fucking clue.
I groan into my receiver when I’m at my desk a moment later. “What do you need?”
My ex-wife harrumphs. “Always so excited to talk to me.”
“Is Haven okay?”
Her pause sends an electrical current down my chest.
“Of course she’s okay, Derek.” She spits her words through the phone. “To imply otherwise is just . . . not cool.”
“Then why are you bothering me at the office in the middle of the week? Shouldn’t you be in Pilates class? Or are Wednesdays for barre? No, wait. Hot yoga. My mistake.”
Kyla sighs. “You’re just mad that my body looks better now than it ever has, and for the first time, you don’t get to enjoy it.”
“Yes, yes,” I say. “I’m well aware that your sculpted ass is for the new man in your life. Or should I say old man? Isn’t he twice your age?”
She doesn’t respond, and I grin ear-to-ear at the image of her fuming silently from her sun-filled,
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