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Chapter Fifteen
How was your night out? Steven texted Rose when he woke the next morning. Last night had been the best sleep he’d had since his accident, and he felt stronger than he had in weeks. Though he’d pushed himself the day before at the office, he believed it’d done him some good to get out of the house and back to work. Maybe he could convince his doctor to let him go in for half days. Anything to stop being cooped up in the house day in and day out.
More fun than I expected. How are you?
He smiled, glad his sister had convinced Rose to go. She needed a night of fun after everything they’d been through recently. He was just sorry he couldn’t join her.
After texting her that he was doing much better, he opened his laptop and began going through emails. Near the top of his inbox was a message from Mr. Willoughby. His heart sank as he read through it. His most lucrative client was only getting more demanding. Steven had drafted the motion for a pretrial conference and planned to file it with the court next week. Apparently, that wasn’t soon enough for his client.
With a sigh, he crafted a reply, sprinkling in apologetic language while detailing the strategy he had outlined for the next steps in the divorce. Of all of his current caseload, Mr. Willoughby was by far the most important. Between the contested divorce and his client’s plans to sue his neighbors, Mr. Willoughby would rack up several billable hours for Steven’s firm.
Steven had never planned to be a trial lawyer, and he expected both cases to settle out of court, but the amount of research and correspondence it required, not to mention taking witness depositions, was sure to help him build his practice into what he wanted it to be. But to do that, Steven needed to be at work. There was only so much he could assign to Michael. Besides, Mr. Willoughby wasn’t the kind of client he could leave to a fresh-faced law graduate. Mr. Willoughby needed to be coddled, appeased. And Steven was the only one who could do that. Even Sandra had thrown up her hands the last time she’d had to deal with their most problematic client.
Once the email was crafted, Steven continued working on the case from home. He had access to his files through the VPN, and Rose would be working later that morning. The likelihood of him being interrupted was slim. Though he preferred to be in the office, he figured he could at least schedule depositions and conduct some research he had gotten behind on. Every little bit would help keep his client happy.
Just as he’d started getting into a groove, the front door to his house slammed open. He jumped, almost knocking his laptop over.
“Steven?” Lanie called. “The aides are here.”
Since when does she come in without knocking? He pushed the blankets to the side to make it easier for the aides to help him out of bed.
His sister came tearing around the corner, her hair flying, the aides on her tail. For a moment, his heart stopped. Had something happened to Rose? But then he caught the fierce anger in her eyes.
“Lanie, what—“
“I just met with your wedding planner, and do you know what she told me?”
Steven blinked. This is about the wedding? “Look, I don’t really have time—“
“You’re going to make time if you still plan on getting married in August.”
Rubbing a hand over his face, he glanced at the aides, who hovered at the back of the room, looking like they wanted to bolt. He gestured for them to come forward and perform the transfer. The sooner they completed the daily morning routine, the sooner they could leave. The fewer witnesses to the conversation he was about to have, the better.
To his relief, his sister seemed to realize her inappropriate behavior. She stepped to the side and tapped her foot while she waited.
Once they were alone, Steven headed to the kitchen. He needed some caffeine if he was going to get through the conversation.
“So, what’s going on?”
Lanie removed a stack of papers from her book bag and slammed them on the table. “You’re behind on several payments.”
Trust Lanie to get worked up over nothing. “Oh, that. Don’t worry. Rose and I have already discussed it, and we’re handling it.”
“With what money?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “I’ve seen the medical bills that have started pouring in. And have you forgotten that you granted me access to your firm’s finances? You’re not exactly swimming in dough here.”
“I know, but Rose is paying the immediate deposits, and I believe Mr. Willoughby’s next bill will pay the rest of what we owe.”
She raised an eyebrow. “In time for the August payments?”
He swallowed. Leslie billed their clients at the end of the month, and the clients had fifteen days to pay. When he’d done his calculations, he hadn’t accounted for that. It would be tight. Too tight.
He raised his eyes to meet his sister’s. “How do you know all of this?”
“I met with Carissa this morning to discuss hiring her for our wedding. We weren’t going to have a wedding planner, but she accosted Rose last night, and I thought I’d try to distract her, give you both some breathing room.” She gestured to the pages. “But now I think what you two need is a financial advisor.”
“It looks bad—“
“It more than looks that way, Steven,” Lanie interrupted. “And Carissa said your vendors will cancel their contracts with no refunds if you don’t pay them on time.” She shook her head. “You should have postponed when you had the chance.”
