Meet Cute (Page 26)

“Oh, this is perfect.”

I pause as I shove my laptop in my messenger bag. “I’m sorry?” I don’t see at all how this is perfect in any way. It’s a clusterfuck, is what it is.

Beverly waves her hand around. “Not for that little girl or Daxton, obviously, but for us. He’s stuck in court because his firm isn’t giving him the flexible hours he needs and it’s putting him in a precarious situation by making him look incompetent. This problem would be solved if his employer was more understanding of his circumstances.”

“I’m working on it,” I grit as I brush past her, heading for the elevators.

She falls into step beside me. “I have no doubt you’ll make it happen, especially when you make strategic moves such as this. Very smart, Kailyn.”

I give her a tight grin as I hammer the elevator button with my thumb, thankful when it’s followed immediately by the ping. “That’s me, Miss Strategy.”

“I look forward to an update in the morning,” she says as I step inside the steel box.

“Of course.” I push the button for the parking garage and the doors slide closed, cutting off my view of Beverly’s approving smile. I sag against the wall and blow out a breath. At no point did I consider making partner when I offered to pick up Emme. I just wanted to erase the panic in her voice and make sure this aunt of hers, who seems to be good at stirring up shit, isn’t causing Emme more stress.

I pull up Dax’s contact. He hasn’t messaged since yesterday, which should be a good thing, but with Emme in a state of panic, it’s the opposite. When I call his phone, it goes directly to voicemail. “I need you to call me as soon as you get this message, please. It’s urgent.” I hang up as the door opens to the parking garage and rush to my car. Anxiety makes my hands shake as I pull up the GPS navigation and buckle myself in.

It seems like I hit every single red light on the way to the school. By the time I get there it’s almost six, and the lot is nearly vacant. I pull up to the front doors and park in a bus zone. I still haven’t heard from Dax, which concerns me. The last thing I want is to tell Emme everything is okay when it’s not, but good God, if Dax isn’t okay, I think I might have a mental breakdown.

As soon as I get out of my car, Emme pops up from her spot on the front steps and jogs toward me. “Did you get a hold of Dax?”

Reflexively, I open my arms and she steps right in for the offered hug. “Not yet, sweetie, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

The door opens again and Linda appears, lips pursed and her hands on her hips. “Emme! You can’t just leave the building without telling me where you’re going.” She comes to an abrupt halt when she notices Emme wrapped around me. Her reaction is in opposition to the maternal front she presented in the principal’s office the last time I saw her.

I pat Emme’s back and whisper, “You okay?”

She shakes her head against my shoulder.

“Emme, who is this?” Linda’s heels click as she descends the steps. “Oh, Kailyn. I didn’t realize Emme had called you.”

I smile coolly, unimpressed with the way she’s dealing with her niece, or this situation. “She called when she couldn’t get in touch with Daxton. He’s in court. I apologize for not getting here sooner. Daxton had made arrangements for me to pick up Emme, but I had it in my planner as a six o’clock pickup instead of five.” The lie is only slightly sour.

“I’m more than happy to take Emme home with me and we can wait for Dax to call.”

“But I want to go to my house,” Emme says.

“We shouldn’t inconvenience Kailyn any more than she already has been,” Linda says tightly.

“It’s not an inconvenience at all. Why don’t you run in and get your bag?” I suggest to Emme. “And you can try Dax again.”

Emme seems torn, but at my encouraging nod she drags her feet back up the stairs. As soon as Emme’s inside the school, Linda crosses her arms over her chest. “You have to be able to see that I’m right about Daxton’s inability to care for Emme. If Daxton wasn’t family, child services would’ve been notified by now.”

I lift a brow. “For having a late meeting? I hardly think that constitutes as abuse.”

“It’s neglectful. He has a history of being irresponsible. He shouldn’t be caring for Emme. Did you see how she’s dressed? She looks homeless.” She takes a few steps closer and rummages around in her purse. “I have copies of the original will. Emails between myself and my sister about me being an ideal guardian. I have documented proof that Dax is unfit to parent Emme.”

She pulls out a file folder. It’s worn and bent, as if she’s been collecting things for a while. “I have copies of everything in here. Take this. You’ll see I’m right.” She thrusts it at me. “Just take it.”

If there’s anything incriminating in here, it would be good to have. I stuff the folder in my bag, far too curious about the contents of this so-called incriminating evidence she seems to believe she has. I find it odd that she called me today and then this happens. It seems too convenient to be coincidental.

Before Linda can say anything else, my phone rings. I rush to dig it out of my purse, relieved when I see Daxton’s name flash across the screen. “Hi.”

“You said it was urgent. Is everything okay? I have calls from Emme. I was supposed to be at the school almost an hour ago. I’m just on my way out of the office now.”

A rush of emotion hits me, and I have to clear my throat before I can respond so it doesn’t carry to my voice. “I’m at the school. I’m bringing her home now.”

“I’m so sorry you had to do that. I really owe you.” His voice hitches, his emotions clearly just as out of control.

“It’s really no problem at all. I’ll have her home shortly.”

“I’ll explain what happened when you get here. I’m about ten minutes away, so I’ll probably beat you there.” I end the call and return my attention to Linda just as Emme bursts through the doors.

“Dax texted!”

I smile warmly as she approaches. “I told you he was stuck in court. He’ll meet us at home. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Linda whispers, eyeing my purse.

Emme links her arm through mine and pulls me toward my car. “Bye, Aunt Linda,” she calls over her shoulder. She tosses her backpack on the floor and plops down in the passenger seat, buckling up without my encouragement.

I note the frayed sleeves of her hoodie and the holes in her jeans, fairly typical for a teenager. I’m pretty sure it’s the same hoodie she was wearing the time we went to the diner, and I have to wonder if it’s a favorite, something she’s taken to wearing as if it’s become the teenage equivalent of a security blanket. When my mother passed I had a blanket she’d made for me that I would often curl up with, just so I could feel close to her. And there was a necklace she loved that I would wear so I could keep her next to my heart. I wore it for years, and still do on occasion.

She bites her already ragged nails as we pull away from the school. I give her shoulder a little squeeze. “You all right?”

She nods, but her voice is small when she says, “I was so scared.”

“I know you were, sweetie, but everything is fine now.” That’s not entirely true, I don’t think, but telling her that isn’t going to help the situation.

It surprisingly takes only ten minutes to get to Daxton’s. He’s sitting on the front steps, suit jacket unbuttoned, tie hanging loose, hair a riotous mess.

He stands up as I pull into the driveway beside his Audi. I don’t even have the car in park before Emme throws open the door. Her backpack lands on the driveway, door still wide open as she rushes Dax and launches herself at him. A fresh wave of tears makes her body shake.

He wraps her up in his strong arms and bends to rest his cheek on top of her head, smoothing his hand over her hair. I cut the engine in time to hear him soothe her, “Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here. Nothing bad happened. We’re both fine. You’re fine. I’m right here.”

I have to take a moment to breathe through my own settling anxiety, my heart aching over her panic, which I felt as my own in that short time between her call and hearing from Dax. It reminds me of my own reaction all those years ago when my father suffered his first heart attack.

His eyes lift as I step out of my car, his expression one of gratitude and so many fleeting emotions, it’s impossible to pin them down.

“I th-thought something h-happened to you,” Emme sobs into his suit.

I round the front of my car, the clip of my heels a loud interruption as I pick up her backpack and gently close the passenger side door.

“I’m so sorry I made you worry. I’ll try my best not to let that happen again.”

I’m glad he doesn’t make a promise he can’t be sure he can keep like I did today.

It’s another half a minute of whispered words before she finally lets him go. “I thought I was going to have to go live with Aunt Linda.”