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“Did you sew Regina’s stage costume?”

He smiles.

“Wow. That’s really… You’re really talented.”

He observes himself. “The barman’s uniform is my doing, too.”

I shouldn’t shift my eyes to his figure, but it would be rude not to observe his outfit.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I didn’t decide on the amount of fabric,” he laughs nervously. “But I sewed the shorts for everyone.”

“You could use these skills of yours.”

“You mean to find a different job?” The light in his eyes fades.

“I wish I could avoid it, believe me.”

He gives me a gentle smile.

“I’m trying to make you win this case, Seth. For you, for the kids.”

“Thank you.” He reaches a hand across the table, his fingers caressing my forearm. “I promise I will listen and follow all your directions.”

I nod. His fingers slowly leave my skin, but the feeling of their light touch remains.

“I will be the perfect client.” He runs a hand through his hair again, a natural gesture that is not at all seductive but has an exceedingly devastating effect on me.

“I wish you could just be yourself,” I say sincerely.

Seth barely lowers his gaze, then wipes away a tear with his fingers.

“You are too nice to be a lawyer.”

And you are too charming. And charismatic. And good. And funny. And sweetly sensitive. All things that wouldn’t hurt in a world where you and I don’t have to fight side by side to ensure your kids aren’t ripped away from you.

“Don’t get used to it,” I say, my tone flat now. “I won’t be like this in court.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply that…” He shakes his head softly. “Forgive me.” He gets up slowly. “I have to get back to work. It was a pleasure seeing you here and spending time together.” He turns and disappears into the club without giving me time to reply.

“I’m going too.” Ross quickly gets up. I guess to go over to him and make sure he’s alright. “Thanks for coming. I hope to see you both again soon.”

Paul says his goodbye to Ross while I remain silent.

“Did you have to be an arsehole?” Paul asks me as soon as we are alone. “What did you say to him?”

“Me? I didn’t say anything!”

“We’d better go too.” Paul stands up, seeming to resent me now.

I follow him outside, and as soon as we’re free of the din, I ask him, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Going out, seeing people… These people. Especially one.”