Under the Lawyer's Obsession

Her mascara was barely dry. Rose checked it in the mirror by the front door one quick look and decided it would have to do. She grabbed her bag from the hook, jammed her feet into her heels, and was out the door before the lock had fully caught behind her. "Rose." Lily's voice came through the phone pressed to her ear, sharp with the particular alarm she reserved for genuine emergencies. "Back up. Back all the way up. The building goes to your *husband?*" "That's what it says." Rose took the stairs instead of the elevator. She was already late. "The building would go to my husband in case something happened to him." "That's — Rose, that's insane." "I know." "Why would he do that?" "I don't know, Lily. Maybe he thought I was going to marry Marcus." "He must have really liked Marcus." "Marcus broke up with me two weeks after uncle David died" Rose pushed through the building's front door and walked straight into the cold morning air. "Over the phone. While I was eating cereal." "I know babe. And I'm so sorry for that.” "Lily." Rose raised her hand for a cab. "The funny thing is that that wasn't part of the deal I had with uncle David. I was supposed to get the building, open the coffee shop, then after 2 years I can start paying rent to him. How can he even do this to me after I had got all the equipment and tables to open the shop." Silence on the other end. The specific silence of Lily thinking hard. "What are you going to do?" "I don't know." she continued. "My plan right now is to get to this meeting without my mascara sliding down my face." A cab pulled up and she got in, giving the address. "I'll call you after." "Call me during." "I'm not calling you during a will reading." "Text me then. Even just a thumbs up or down." "Lily—" "Rose, I'm serious. I need to know you're okay." Rose looked out the window at the city moving past. "I'll call you after," she said, softer this time. "I promise." … Wolfe and Associates occupied the top four floors of a building that had clearly been designed to make people feel small on arrival. All glass and dark stone, doormen who didn't smile, a lobby with ceilings so high Rose's heels echoed before she'd taken three steps inside. She straightened her jacket and walked to the reception desk. "Hi. I'm Rose Calloway. I'm here for the meeting with Mr. Reeves." The receptionist typed something, then looked up with a polished smile. "Of course, Ms. Calloway. If you'd like to take a seat I'll let—" "Her meeting is with me." The voice came from her left. Rose turned. He was walking across the lobby like the lobby had been arranged specifically for him — dark suit, unhurried pace, the kind of presence that made the surrounding space feel smaller without him doing anything obviously dramatic about it. He was younger than she'd expected for a place like this. And better-looking, which was an irritating thing to notice. He stopped a few feet away and looked at her. Not the quick, polite look of professional greeting. He actually looked — direct, unhurried, like he was confirming something he'd already suspected. "I'm sorry?" she said. "Your meeting is with me." He turned and started walking. "Come." "I… wait." She looked at the receptionist, who had suddenly found something very interesting to read on her screen. Rose turned back to him. " I'm here for the—" "There isn't time." He didn't stop walking. "The others are waiting. I need five minutes with you first." She stood there for exactly two seconds, which was how long it took to establish that he was not going to turn around and explain himself further. "Sorry," she said to the receptionist, though she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for, and followed him. The elevator was small. Or maybe it was the normal size of elevators and the problem was something else entirely. He stood on the opposite side, one hand in his jacket pocket, eyes forward. Rose fixed her gaze on the floor numbers and told herself to breathe normally. … His office was exactly what she'd expected. Large and expensive. He went around the desk and sat down. Rose sat across from him and put her bag on the floor. "So," she said. "What is it you want to talk about? I thought Mr. Reeves is my uncle's lawyer. Has there been a change?" "He is. I drafted the will, but Reeves is the one handling everything." “Then I'm not sure why—” "I was the one managing your late father's corporate business. Do you need something to drink? Coffee or tea?" "No thank you. I have another app—," Rose said. “Appointment you need to get to. I understand.” he finished for her. “He was my uncle, by the way.” He paused. "Excuse me?" "He was my uncle. Not my father." "Right." A brief pause. "I apologize." This was something he already knew about, but he was too distracted to remember the little details. "I still don't understand why I'm here," she said. "Or what it has to do with you." He leaned back slightly. "I’ve read the will.’ he admitted after taking in the stiff way she was holding herself. “Okay,” she prompted. “I want to talk to you about the building your uncle had written in the will to be given to you.” “What about it?” “I know that you and your uncle had a little agreement before his death. That was added in the will but with a little stipulation that ownership has to be transferred to your husband —” “If I were married.” Rose finished. “Yes,” he said, pointedly looking at her finger. “If you were married, that is.” “David was excited about me getting married to my fiance, Marcus. It seemed that he trusted him more—” “Your ex fiance you mean.” he reminded her. She paused at his words. “Yes. right. My ex fiance, of course.” she amended, a bitter smile crossing her lips. “It's still a habit. We only ended things a few weeks ago.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you know this… how?” “I prefer to be well informed, Miss Calloway. Please continue.” She studied him for a long moment as he waited patiently. “The building belongs to my husband if I'm married." She picked up her bag. "Since I can't exactly produce one from thin air, I think that covers everything." She stood up. “I don't mean to be rude Mr…” “Wolfe” he supplied as he watched her with interest. “Right. I really don't want to be rude Mr. Wolfe, I was a little intrigued following you here. I'll admit that much, but I don't have time to go over things I already know. It was nice meeting you.” Thinking the conversation was done, she extended her hand over his desk. He stared at it for a second. Before she could decide to walk away, he stood up, let out a breath and looked into his eyes as he took her hand.” “You are not being rude, Miss Calloway. But before you go, I'll like you to marry me.”