unacceptable. You have a responsibility with this firm and your clients.”
There are so many things I should tell her, starting with the fact that my clients are happy. I haven’t lost any cases, and my work hasn’t suffered just because I’m not in my office every fucking day of the week. The company should be more lenient about working hours, trusting our lawyers, taking cases worth winning, and not just grabbing everything that comes to our door because we can make more money.
“We should assess the pros and cons of creating a new pet-owner leave,” I suggest, half joking. Last week I convinced the senior partners that my team and I will only handle the corporate cases. I know which battles to fight with her, and this one isn’t worth my time or the aggravation.
To distract her, I pull out my phone and show her a picture of my girl. “Isn’t she precious? Her name is Daisy.”
She glares at me, and then her gaze focuses on my hand. “Is that a wedding ring?”
I look at my finger and grin. “By the way, I got married last Friday. You should be thankful that I’m here. Technically, I have a week off.”
“Please, tell me you are joking.” I’m sure her voice can be heard all the way to Colorado Springs. “You married that woman.”
“Leyla,” I correct her. “My wife.”
“Pierce, you just met her,” she snaps at me like she did when I was a child who couldn’t understand why his father will never come back or why it’s wrong to want to meet his new brothers.
She stares at me coldly, and a sneer distorts her upper lip. Okay, I pissed her off. Honestly, when I thought about marrying Leyla, it never crossed my mind that there would be an issue with my mother. I did it because it felt right, like the natural progression of our relationship.
“Where is the prenuptial agreement? I need to make sure she won’t touch the ten billion dollars your father gave you.”
Who the fuck cares about that money? I don’t plan on using it because it’s tainted. William Aldridge doesn’t give a shit about me. If he cared, he could’ve fought for custody or to see me more often. When I started visiting him once a year in Baker’s Creek, he barely paid attention to me. Now that I’m an adult, he could reach out and say, “Hey, bastard number two, are you doing fine?”
“I’ve been dating her since last year,” I remind her. “This makes sense to us. You should be happy for me.”
“Happy? You’ve been neglecting the firm since you met her. I was going to propose making you a partner, but now”—she makes an exasperated sound and taps my desk with her well-manicured finger— “I want to see that prenuptial agreement. And if she didn’t sign one, have her sign a document where your assets are protected when you divorce.”
This could go two ways. One is with me telling her that there won’t be a prenup and I’m never leaving my wife. The second is to agree. Then there’s the matter of having to sweet-talk her back into promoting me to partner. I’ve been working hard for it.
Being on my mother’s wrong side is a nightmare, which is why I listen to her and have Nyx draft something. I ask her to include our kids because even when I want to be with Leyla forever, I want them to be covered in case we divorce. When I show it to Leyla so she can sign it, she frowns.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s just in case…something happens.”
“So, if either one of us cheats, the other gets Daisy, Buster, Poppy, Alistair, and any other animal we acquire during our marriage,” she says out loud. “If you cheat, I get your trust too. What if I cheat?”
I look at her and smile. “I’ll be heartbroken.”
“You don’t care about my assets?” she asks, and it takes a lot of self-restraint to contain the laugh.
“I’m sure your car is safe,” I answer. “You can keep it.”
She has a piece of junk that should be going to a museum. I bought her a new, top of the line SUV, but she doesn’t care about it. She refuses to use it.
“You haven't googled my family, have you?” she asks.
“No, why?”
“You should in case you want to know who you are married to,” she states. “Search Leyla Gibbs or Justin Gibbs. Bristol, Maine could narrow the search.”
I roll my eyes. What can I possibly