All the Waters of the Earth

Chapter 10: The Best Interest of the Child

"I have an appointment with Amelia Crowley," I said to the receptionist, who was seated at a desk at the front of the law firm, on Monday morning. She looked kind of like Pink, with short blonde hair. She appeared tough, like she could bend me in half and break me; it was obvious that she spent all of her time at the gym, with those muscles. Her name plate said "Neveah."

"I'll tell Ms. Crowley you are here," she said politely. "Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?"

"No, thank you," I answered, and perched in a chair in the lobby. I was nervous and dreaded being here. It wasn't that it was a bad place. The law firm was nice, very Santa Barbara-ey, with white stucco walls and a red tile roof. But it was like going to the dentist or the doctor; it just was not fun to be here and you wanted to avoid it as much as you could.

The receptionist paged Amelia, and as I sat there, a tall, handsome man in a dark blue business suit briskly walked past the lobby on his way from one part of the office to the other. I recognized him.

"Jake?" I said, astonished.

"Lucy?" He looked taken aback, and walked over to me. His face went from confused to pissed in an instant. He asked, accusingly, "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here."

The fuck? "I'm not stalking you. I have an appointment with my lawyer. What are you doing here?"

"I am a lawyer. I work here."

What? "I thought you were in advertising?"

"No," he said, eyebrows knitting together. "Why would you think that?"

"All of the product samples," I answered.

He shook his handsome head. "No, clients bring me gifts all the time."

So he was a lawyer? Why? That wasn't very artistic. I thought that he used his art skills for designing ads at least. But a lawyer? That did not make sense, given his artistic personality.

I felt the need to justify myself. "Well, it's rude to ask someone what they do for a living."

"Are you serious?" he asked, incredulous.

I nodded.

Shaking his head like he couldn't believe me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the seat. "We're using a conference room," he said brusquely to Neveah. Well. No manners. He whisked me into a nearby room and shut the door. I leaned up against the table and he stood by the door.

"What are you doing here, Lucy? Why do you need to see a lawyer?"

"My ex is trying to take away Roberto. He filed papers to modify child custody and child support."

He looked pissed. "Fuck. Who are you seeing?"

"Amelia."

He nodded, satisfied. "She's excellent. But listen. There are ethical rules about attorneys seeing clients. Fuck. If I don't work on your case... Fuck." He seemed to be talking to himself. "It shouldn't matter. But listen. You can't tell anyone anything about me or us. You can't... I don't share. I don't... My private life is my business." His voice got harsher. "No you and me, no art class, no weekend, no nothing, you hear me?"

What the fuck? "Jake, what is wrong with you?" I started, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. It opened, and my attorney was standing there in a professional, black skirt suit. Amelia was a dark haired, curvy beauty with brains. She helped me a few years ago when Carlos stopped paying child support for a few months. After a few strongly-worded letters sent by her on letterhead, Carlos paid all of the arrears, with interest.