Page 1 of The Deadbeat DILF
CHAPTER ONE
There was never a moment of pure silence in the towering office building of Ashcroft Legal Group. Meetings happened every hour, clients came and went, phones rang, and email notifications dinged.
I was used to the constant drone of noise, even through the walls of my corner office. My eyes remained glued to my computer screen as I read over one of the hundreds of documents I had to review. I’d started working at Ashcroft as soon as I graduated from law school, and I was twenty-nine now, which meant I’d been here for five years. I’d learned there was no lull in the chaos, but I thrived in it.
Then my personal phone buzzed with a text message.
Mom:I hope you haven’t forgotten our lunch this Saturday. Don’t be late.
I tightened my jaw. My family’s monthly lunches were something I dreaded, but I’d never figured out a good way to get out of them. If I made an excuse, my family would just reschedule for the following week. If I said I was busy for the foreseeable future, my family would guilt-trip me.Brooke doesn’t have time for her family now that she’s a fancy lawyer. She thinks she’s too good for us.
I’d long ago decided the best strategy was to just get the lunches over with. It was only a few hours every month.
I decided to text my mom back later, once I finished work. I could already imagine what I’d say. I’d promise not to be late, like the responsible, perfect daughter I strove to be.
The deep trill of my office phone ringing cut into my thoughts, and I snatched the phone off the receiver and pressed it to my ear. “Brooke Collins,” I answered.
“Sorry to bother you, Brooke,” Ashley, the firm’s receptionist, said. “There’s a man here to see you, but he doesn’t have an appointment. He says he knows you personally.”
“Sure, send him in,” I said. It was my automatic response whenever Ashley told me someone was here to see me. As soon as I ended the call, though, I paused.
A man here to see me? Someone I knew personally?
I couldn’t think of anyone. Clients and other people I knew professionally would have made an appointment. I didn’t have a boyfriend or any male friends I was particularly close to. The only people I could think of were my dad and my brother, but surely they wouldn’t come here. They probably couldn’t even remember which company I worked at.
There was a knock at my door, and my stomach clenched. I stood up, my hands smoothing over the black material of my sheath dress, and plastered on a client-friendly smile. I wanted to be welcoming to whoever it was.
“Come in,” I called.
A tall man walked in. He had dark brown hair, much longer than the hair of all the white-collar men I worked with. His jaw was covered in stubble, and his blue jeans looked worn. His large biceps filled the sleeves of his dark gray Henley, and even in what I assumed to be his late forties, he had the physique that guys in their early twenties strived for. He was clearly strong, with broad shoulders, a solid chest, and a trim waist.
I stared.
“Brooke,” he said, stepping closer, allowing me to get a better look at him. “It’s been a long time.”
My gaze swept over the disheveled but noticeably handsome man who looked very familiar.
“I’m sorry, remind me…?”
“Robert James,” he said, gesturing to himself. “Mike’s father.”
My heart jolted. I had dated Mike James in college, which felt like a million years ago. We’d met in an Introduction to Political Science class, and our relationship had been fun and sweet, but not very serious. Mike had been cute, and like me, studied hard and had big career ambitions, but I broke up with him in our senior year. He’d wanted to stay together, but he was moving to the city for a job, and I was going to law school. I didn’t think long distance would wrk, and I wanted to be free of distractions so I could focus on law.
While we were dating, I had visited his family home a few times. He’d had a huge house. His mother had long black hair and had always been dressed in expensive clothes, and she was quite protective of her son. As for his father…
Well, even back then, I’d noticed that Mike’s father was good-looking. Mike had inherited the warm, chocolate brown eyes and perfect bone structure from his dad.
“Yes, of course,” I said now. “How is Mike?”
As soon as the question left my mouth, I internally grimaced. I hadn’t spoken to Mike since we graduated, and it was obvious that I didn’t know what he was up to these days.
“He’s good,” Robert said. “He’s working at a consulting firm, doing well.”
“Good to hear,” I said, then gestured to one of the two padded seats on the other side of my desk. “Please, take a seat. Is there something I can help you with, Mr. James?”
“Robert,” he corrected as he sat down in the left seat. Despite his calm voice, his body was a little stiff. “I know this is strange, me showing up out of the blue, but Mike told me you were a lawyer these days.” He hesitated. “I need a lawyer’s help, and I wasn’t sure where to go.”
I wasn’t surprised. As a lawyer, I frequently got asked for advice—from acquaintances asking if I could help them sue someone, to my brother asking me to help him get out of a speeding ticket. Even though it happened a lot, I always tried to be polite about it, rather than getting annoyed.
