In My Custody
In My Custody
By Stella Marie Alden
Contents
Prologue:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Copyright (C) 2018 Stella Marie Alden
Cover by Book Cover Luv
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.
stellamariealden@gmail.com
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Huge thanks to:
My husband, my editor, my best friend, and lover
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Every one of you who buys my books
Prologue:
Crickets chirp, cicadas buzz, and a brook gurgles as it meanders over rocks. Suddenly, all forest creatures go silent as branches snap and two men argue.
“Damn it. I told you to stay clear until we got the money.”
“You fuck me over, you’re dead. Got it?”
“Screw you. Without me, you won’t get a red cent.”
Chapter 1
August 12
Andrew Quinn, Esquire
Groaning, I blindly reach to my nightstand, close my fingers around my ringing cellphone, and squint at the ungodly hour before swiping an index finger across the screen. My heart races as I open my underwear drawer, the phone cradled to my ear.
“What’s wrong? The kids okay? What do you need? I’m coming.”
“No, no, they’re fine.” My brother sounds pretty calm, considering it’s four in the frigging morning, so I try to chill as I search for a pair of clean socks.
The trouble is, I always imagine the worst. Maybe it’s his wife, Mel. It was only a matter of time before she got in over her head. She takes in stray women the way others adopt cats.
“What did Mel do now?” I pull on a pair of black slacks and slide into a crisp, white shirt hanging on my doorknob.
“She’s fine, too.”
“God damn it, Chance.” I love my baby brother but his communication skills suck wind.
Sighing, he finally spills the beans. “Mel got a call from one of her girls. You remember Lilac?”
“Sure, I do. I kept her from getting arrested, didn’t I? She in trouble again?” A deep calming breath is in order while I put a pod in the coffee machine and picture the New England beauty I represented last summer. If our friend Slate hadn’t hooked up with her, God help me, I surely would’ve tried.
Because my sleep-deprived brain has wandered into the forbidden zone, I miss a bit of CJ’s explanation. “…working at Columbia Pres. and she needs you there, right now. Bro, you listening?”
“Uh huh.” I measure a tablespoon of cream and take a gulp of coffee while he continues his pitch. “Did you ever hear of Sienna Olafson?”
“How could I not?” Caffeine kicks in at the mention of the infamous woman. “How long ago was that? Two years?” I place the carton back on the bottom shelf, the third spot from the left, forward facing, next to the orange juice.
“Yeah, maybe. Anyhow, Lilac says Sienna was injured in a car accident and the police are there, trying to interrogate her.”
“Interrogate who? I’m confused.”
“Sienna. Lilac thinks the woman needs a lawyer so she called Mel to ask me to call you.”
“Dammit.” My brother knows how to push all my buttons.
Let’s see… Penniless girl needs protection. Yup. It works.
I grab my suit jacket and check in the mirror to make sure I look presentable. “Fine. But you need to wake up Jack and explain it to him. Have him meet me in front of my apartment. How long you figure it’ll take him to get your limo to Brooklyn?”
“I don’t know… thirty?”
“Tell him to halve that and text me Lilac’s number, just in case.”
“Just a second, I’ll get it for you.”
It’s going to be a long day so I put some paperwork in my leather bag along with my laptop. When I passed the bar, I pictured owning my own business, sleeping in, and taking on wealthy clients. Oh well, two out of three ain’t bad. I chuckle as I rinse my mug and put it back on the shelf, Giant’s logo forward.
When CJ became an NFL super-star, I made him invest everything and I got damn good at picking the right stocks. Now, I have the freedom to do pro bono work here and there.
Chance mutters something filthy to his wife in the background before returning to the phone. “Done. Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Just name your next kid after me.”
“What if it’s another girl?”
“Andrew-lia will do just fine.”
CJ snickers. “I’ll let my wife know.”
“You do that.”
“Seriously, bro, thanks for doing this.”
“No problem. I’ll take my fees out of your next check. Wait, one more thing. Before you start banging your wife, call Lilac and let her know I’m coming. Make sure she keeps the police at bay until I get there. I’ll call you when I hear more. Later.”
After exactly thirty-three minutes, I step away from CJ’s limo, a bit stunned to be alive. “Thanks for not killing us, Jack.”
“Anytime. I wasn’t doing anything… except sleeping.” He grins because I hissed at the last curve when I thought we were going to hit a dump truck.
“The early hour wasn’t my idea, blame your boss.”
“Wouldn’t do any good. Melanie has him wrapped around her finger.” He holds up his pinky and shakes his head but we both know he’s joking. My brother’s wife has a heart of gold and we’d both do anything for her.
While he parks the limo, I stop and stare at the steps leading up to the entrance of Columbia Presbyterian. Ever since my dad broke my arm as a kid, I fucking hate hospitals and it usually takes an act of God to get me here.
A bit of nausea hits my stomach as I make my way through the large crowd gathered in the waiting area. Photographers need to make a living but this circus of paparazzi seems over the top, even for Sienna Olafson.
I ask the location of my new client at the front desk where a weary, gray-haired woman gives me a tight smile. “I’m sorry sir, I can’t give you any information.”
She flicks her eyes in the direction of two police officers standing by a vending machine.
“I’m her lawyer. Here’s my card.” My wallet isn’t even closed before Lilac steps from behind a set of double glass doors and says, “I got this, Doreen.”
The pretty doctor shakes my hand, “Long time, no see. Thanks for coming.”
“No problem. How’s Slate?”
“Oh, he’s having a grand old time being a bodyguard, running after Grayson in Rome, eating fine foods, while I’m stuck here in New York.”
She leads me past a row of curtains and into one of the small emergency room bays, “Sienna? Someone to see you.”
A couple years ago, Ms. Olafson’s face was plastered on
the TV, the internet, and even lit up Times Square. Back then, she was a pretty little waif but too pale and wan for my liking.
Whoa. This can’t be her. The woman who captured all of America’s pity was… well, to be frank, mousy. This stunning beauty has silky blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and cherry-red lips. With a heart-shaped chin and pretty pert nose, she’s fucking gorgeous.
She shoots me a wide-open smile, like we’ve known each other for years. “Well, hello, sexy! My God, I love a man in a suit.”
I give a questioning look to Lilac but she’s frowning at a clipboard at the foot of the bed. “We’re still waiting for Sienna’s toxicology report. Can you handle her for a moment? I need to see to my other patients.”
I give a nod, brush off a folding chair next to the bed, and sit so as to be eye-to-eye with my new client. “You’re Sienna Olafson, right?”
“Oh my God, no. Sienna Giles, G I L E S, Giles.” She voices the letters as if in a grade school spelling bee and writes on a virtual blackboard in front of her face.
Then, she leans over the side of the bed and says at full volume. “Do you want to sleep with me because I do you.”
My cock wakes up at the offer even though it should know better. “Ms. Giles? I’m Andrew Quinn. I’m-”
“You are so beautiful, like a Greek god or something.” Her hand goes to my cheek. “Seriously. You want to fuck?”
She sits up, her nostrils flare and her eyes dig a deep hole into mine. Unfortunately, the centers are dilated and not in a good way.
Down boy, I say to the interest tenting in my lap. Client, C L I E N T, Client.
Needing to keep this professional, I pat her hand and put it back in her lap. “Maybe later. Right now. I need you to focus. Can you do that for me?”
Her mouth goes into a little pout. “Fine. But do you know how long it has been since I’ve had sex?”
“Would you like me to represent you?” I try to keep her on track but she’s on a roll.
“Two years! Can you believe it?”
“You must have loved your husband very much.”
Her eyes go wide and I can see how the blacks are too wide from whatever she’s on. “Are you kidding me? That louse? That lowlife, piece of crap, cheating dirtbag, awful… did I say cheater?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her lack of useful curse words. “So, I guess he’s not the reason for your celibacy.”
“Nope.” She shakes her very cute, higher than a kite, blond head. “You want to know why?”
An index finger crooks to motion me closer. “I need to whisper it to you. I don’t want anyone to hear.”
When I lean in, her breath smells sweet, not of alcohol. Before I can make a note of it, she has me by my tie, pulls my lips to hers, and kisses me.
I could’ve pulled away. I should have. Maybe if she wasn’t so damn beautiful, I would have. Generally, I am considered a fucking saint by family and friends. Maybe it’s because I’m still half asleep. Honestly? I have no idea why I kiss her back.
She’s not my client, I reason, not until she agrees to it.
The distinction is pretty lame but, in my defense, I got blindsided. Her kiss is sweet, insistent. Her lips are soft as they press into mine and she makes a little moan, the kind women do when they want so much more.
When our eyes meet, I get this kind of premonition and a chill goes down my back. Damn, what if she’s the one. My cock crams against my pants, my heart pounds in my ears and yet I pull away. If she is my soulmate, I need to get a grip. It’s fucked up I let it go this far.
“Ms. Giles. No more kissing, okay?” I unwrap her fingers from my tie and again, place them in her lap.
She looks as stunned as I feel. “Yeah. Okay. No more.”
“Good. First, do you have a dollar?”
“I don’t know. Do I?” Her eyes flick to a huge, ugly as sin, black leather bag with fringe.
When I hand it to her, her smile gets all devious again. “If I give you money, does it mean you stick around?”
“Yes. We should hurry.” The police hovering at the curtain make me nervous so I quickly help her with her wallet. There’s no bills so find three quarters, two dimes and five pennies. Paid in full, I pull a contract from my briefcase and have her sign before she changes her mind.
“As you may have noticed, I haven’t got any money. From the looks, your suit probably costs more than I make in a year.”
“We’ll work the numbers, later.” I heave a sigh of relief because the cops are arguing with some nurse right outside the curtain, insisting on speaking with my client.
Sienna hands back my pen and says, “I could pay you off by screwing your brains out…”
Great. The two officers who managed to bully their way to my client raise their brows in unison. Undaunted, I give my most professional smile and hand them my card.
“Can I help you?”
The older, a guy around thirty, steps forward and takes my offering. “We’d like to ask Ms. Giles a few questions.”
I block them by standing in front of her bed. “I’m afraid she’s incapacitated right now.”
The next question comes from the other cop, a uniformed woman about five-foot-five with olive skin and intelligent eyes. “Oh yeah? What were her toxicology results?”
“Hmm. Even if I knew, I couldn’t say. HIPAA privacy and all that.” I cross my arms over my chest and wonder how smart these two really are. They might push but I could easily get anything my client says thrown out in court.
“We can come back with a warrant.” The guy’s face gets red and his jaw tics but I’ve dealt with jerks like him before. They’re all bark and no bite.
“I suggest you do so. Until then, the law is on my side.”
The female officer tries to look around me with one last attempt. “Miss Giles. It’ll go easier if you cooperate.”
Sienna smiles. “Lawyer, honey, let me talk to them. I don’t remember a damn thing.”
The two cops grin, no doubt convinced they can prove she’s lying but from the minutia in my client’s face, I know she’s telling the truth.
So, I step back and open my arms theatrically to allow the two to enter. They won’t get shit and like I said, even if they do, nothing will be admissible.
The older guy opens a notebook as if trying to formulate a question. “You said you don’t remember? What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“Getting brought here in the ambulance.” Sienna blinks twice, her pretty face full of innocence.
“Before that?”
She scrunches up her nose. “Getting up this morning? Making coffee? I fed my cats? Do I even have cats?”
The woman officer steps in closer. “This is not a joke, Ms. Giles. People were hurt.”
“When?”
“The accident. Your accident.”
“I was in an accident? Well, shit. That explains why I’m in a hospital. Was anyone hurt?”
“We can’t go into it right now.”
“Well then, why did you bring it up? Mr. Lovely-suit? Can you be a dear? Find out if anyone was hurt in my accident.”
I put my hand in front of my face, nod, and cough to hold back my chuckle. “No one was hurt, only you. These guys are lying.”
The older guy glowers. “We’ll be waiting to arrest her as soon as she is released.”
I don’t like his attitude so make a little eye contact of my own. “You do and I’ll slap a lawsuit on you so fast you’ll get whiplash.”
They open their mouths to say more so I gentle it down. “Ms. Giles has suffered a concussion and obviously not in command of her faculties. You’re wasting your time. Plus, she’s not getting released any time soon.”
The assuredness of my tone makes them understand they could wait all night for nothing. “I’ll make sure to call you as soon as she is released. Please make sure you get a warrant for her tox results.”
They both know in a city the size of New York, the hospital could take days. Not done
one-upping them, I add a parting shot. “If you even get a glance at her paperwork on the way out, I’ll make sure to file a suit. We take HIPAA laws very seriously in New York.”
“C’mon, Stan. Let’s go.” The young woman has the good sense to call it quits but the man hangs back.
“The captain…”
“I’m sure will understand. I’ll call him as soon as I get a handle on what went down last night.”
Obviously, no one’s getting much from Ms. Sienna Giles right now. Long blond lashes brush the tops of her cheeks, her chest heaves up and down, and she snores. With my client asleep and the cops out of my hair, I settle down and do some work on my laptop.
A couple hours later, Lilac opens the curtain, checks her patient’s vitals, and glances up at me. “How’s she been?”
I put my laptop aside, stretch, and stand. “Sleeping. Can you tell me anything about what happened?”
Lilac efficiently changes an IV bag hanging from a metal pole as she speaks. “I spoke with the ambulance driver before he left. Apparently, Sienna was speeding, careened against a few cars, and smashed into the side of a building. She bumped her head pretty badly. Worse yet, she was full of opioids and had a blood alcohol level of point fifteen. Poor thing. She’s in a shit load of trouble.”
It makes me wonder if Lilac’s in the habit of calling a lawyer for all her DUI’s. “How well do you know her?”
Blue eyes lower to her patient’s pillow. “Just what I read from the tabloids. It was all over the news a couple years ago. Her husband died in some plane crash, right? I can’t imagine.”
So that’s it. Lilac just got engaged to one of my poker buddies. She must’ve pictured herself in this woman’s shoes.
“Dr. Starbird?”
A woman’s voice calls from behind us and Lilac gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “I got to go. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Say hi to Slate. Tell him to bring a wad of cash to the next poker game. I intend to win back my fees.”
She grins and playfully punches my arm. “He swears you cheat.”
“Don’t have to.” I wink as she glances into the main arena and moans. “Shit. The ER is about to blow up. Ambulances arriving.”