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When the sun peeked through the blinds, he sighed in relief. Survived another night. With a shake of his head, he chastised himself for such morbid thoughts. As far as he could tell, he was much improved, and he hoped that meant he would be discharged soon.
The door to his room opened. He sat up, expecting Rose, but instead, his sister entered. She carried a bag over her shoulder and greeted him with a smile.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” After sliding the bag down her arm, she set it on the bed and removed stacks of paper. “I stopped by your office this morning and spoke to Sandra. She sends you get-well wishes.”
He harrumphed, though it came out more as a groan. Lanie didn’t seem to notice as she set up various piles on his bed.
“I asked her to help me pull together your most pressing cases so we can determine what needs to be done and how we can do it.”
“Thank you,” he said as he shifted to sit up in bed. Pain shot through his body from the incision in his back, and he winced.
Lanie put a hand on his shoulder and helped prop him up while she adjusted his pillows. It didn’t help, as it was next to impossible to get comfortable after his surgery, but he appreciated the attempt.
“Have you given any more thought to taking on a partner?” she asked.
“No, but I considered hiring a law clerk.”
“And that’s going to be enough?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What can I do in the meantime? The kids go on summer break next week, and I’ll join them a week later. I can pitch in to help if you’ll point me in the right direction.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he gave an incredulous laugh. “You? What do you know about working in a law office?”
“Hey!” She put her hands on her hips. “I manage unruly children all day. How much harder could it be to corral your clients?”
He thought of Mr. Willoughby and shook his head. “You have no idea.”
“Look.” She leveled him with a fierce gaze. “You need to reduce your stress level, and I’m offering to do what I can to help with that. If you’re not willing to cut back on your hours or hire an attorney with experience, then I suspect you’ll be back in this very hospital in a month or less.” Her hazel eyes darkened. “Or worse.”
He wondered what he could trust her to handle. She’d just finished working through their mother’s estate, and he had a couple of clients preparing for probate. Perhaps she could help there.
“Interested in dead people?”
Her eyes widened, and she faltered back a step. When she recovered from his strangely worded question, she stared at him. “You have more estate clients?”
He nodded. “Your experience with Mom’s estate may come in handy. If nothing else, you can hold their hand and help them through probate.” Lifting his left hand, he wagged a finger. “But no legal advice. You’re not qualified.”
Her teeth worried her lower lip as she appeared to consider his request. For a moment, he thought she would refuse, and he couldn’t blame her if she did. She’d hated being the executor of their mother’s estate. They’d once wondered why their mother chose her when Steven, the lawyer, was the obvious choice. Later, he’d suspected it was the only way their mother could guarantee Lanie would return to her hometown and Nate, her fiancé, would keep the promise he’d made to tell Lanie the truth about Mom’s involvement in their breakup. It had all worked out in the end, but if Lanie wasn’t in a hurry to get back into the world of trusts and estates, he completely understood.
As he opened his mouth to tell her to forget it, she squared her shoulders. “All right. I’ll do it.” She twirled a blond lock of hair around her finger. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“Before we delve into this stack of papers, Sandra insisted I give you this note.” Lanie handed him a piece of paper with a phone message scribbled on it.
Steven rolled his eyes because of course it was from his least-favorite client. Mr. Willoughby was demanding Steven contact him the moment he was back in the office. Sandra had added her own colorful language, detailing her conversation with Mr. Willoughby. She’d tried to offer her assistance, but the client had insisted he must speak to Steven.
“It’s my most demanding client,” Steven finally said, figuring that sounded more diplomatic than calling Mr. Willoughby a pain in his rear end. “He’s still sore at me for hanging up on him the other day when I was on my way out the door.”
“Doesn’t he know you’re in the hospital?”
“I have no idea what Sandra told him.” Steven sighed. “But I doubt she would have informed him of my medical issues. She probably said I was out of the office for the foreseeable future.”
“Well, I can call him if you’d like—”
Waving his hand, Steven shook his head. “No, that’ll probably just rile him up more. I’ll deal with him later.” He gestured to the papers in her hand. “Let’s see what you brought for me.”
