He was a man and she was a woman, so the logical process would be to have an open and adult conversation. Simple. She chewed on the inside of her lip. Then why did the thought make her feel as if she were being prepped for painful surgery—open heart surgery?
A tap at her door interrupted her agonizing thoughts. “Come in.”
Nina, her secretary, walked in with a notepad in her hand. “You have a partners meeting at two and Mr. Coffey wants to speak to you beforehand.” Nina, a single mother of two, was all business and Grace liked that about her. They had a good working relationship.
Grace leaned back in her chair. “Did he mention what about?”
“No. But it’s either about the day care center you’re opening on the first floor or he wants your support on something.”
Byron Coffey was her father’s age and had joined the firm soon after Steven Whitten had started it. He was the senior partner and he and Grace got along well on the surface for the sake of office morale. Byron’s wife had died years ago and Byron had asked Grace out more than once. She always found a polite way to refuse. In no way was she attracted to Byron, but to maintain a positive atmosphere in the firm she couldn’t tell him that.
Byron had attempted to pressure her on more than one occasion to further his own causes. She always got the impression that he thought of her as a glorified figurehead without any brains. That did not endear him to her. And he was vehemently against the day care for the firm’s employees, as was her father. Grace saw it as cost-effective. Too many times cases had to be postponed or rearranged because a lawyer, clerk, aide or secretary couldn’t find a sitter at the last minute. This way the babies would be nearby and parents wouldn’t have to worry.
Her father had said it wasn’t the firm’s responsibility to provide day care. Grace saw it differently and stuck to her decision. The first time she’d ever gone against her father.
Nina looked at her pad. “There’s a Lisa and Keith Templeton to see you. They said it was important. Would you rather they made an appointment and come back later or…”
“I’ll see them,” she said. “Give me five minutes.”
“You got it.”
Lisa and Keith—she hadn’t seen them in years. Grace reached for her purse and quickly checked her makeup. She and Lisa had been sorority sisters and college roommates. Lisa and Keith had fallen in love in college and were inseparable. After they’d gotten their degrees, both in finance, they’d settled down to raise a family.
Grace had had lunch with Lisa about two years ago and the family part hadn’t happened yet. After a miscarriage, Lisa had been unable to get pregnant again. Grace knew they were still trying.
The door opened and Lisa rushed in, a petite blonde with a sparkly personality. Keith, also blond, followed more slowly. Grace hurried around her desk and they embraced.
Lisa stepped back, perusing Grace’s outfit. “Anne Klein, right?”
Grace glanced down at her herringbone suit. “Yes.” If she and Lisa had anything in common, it was fashion. In college, they’d spent many afternoons shopping together.
“Ellen Tracy,” Grace responded, eyeing Lisa’s ecru linen dress, pearls and heels.
Lisa held out her foot. “And Manolo Blahnik. I bought them in New York. Aren’t they to die for?”
“Absolutely.” Grace had a pair just like them in her closet, but she wouldn’t spoil Lisa’s pleasure.
Keith cleared his throat and Lisa glanced at him. “Oh, Grace, we need your help.”
Grace couldn’t imagine what this was about, but from the expressions on their faces she knew it was serious. They took seats and she waited.
Lisa crossed her legs. “You know we’ve been trying for so long to have a baby. We’ve tried in vitro, everything, and we’ve finally accepted that we’re not going to have a child of our own.” A look of sadness crossed her face.
“I’m sorry,” Grace said, feeling her stomach tighten at Lisa’s pain. “I know how much you wanted a baby.”
“It’s all I ever think about.” Lisa smoothed her skirt over her knees.
Keith reached for his wife’s hand. “It’s okay, honey. Tell Grace why we’re here.”
“Oh.” Lisa’s blue eyes brightened immediately. “We’re going to adopt. We have been approved at several adoption agencies, but the waiting lists are so long.”
“It’ll be worth it, though,” Grace reminded her.
“Yes, but my mother knows a lady who works for CPS and there’s a little boy that might be up for adoption. He’s fourteen months old. We want to be the first ones to apply for this baby and we need your help.”
“Of course. We have a very good family law department and I’ll make sure that…”
“No, no.” Lisa shook her head. “We want you to handle it. You’re the best, Grace. I know you are. You’ll fight for us.”
“Lisa, I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but our family lawyers are very competent.”
“Grace, please,” Keith spoke up. “We’d feel more comfortable with you.”
She looked into their concerned, hopeful eyes. Could she do what they wanted? It had been a while since she’d been in the courtroom. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins and excitement filled her. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe this was what she needed to force her out of her recent malaise. They were her friends and they needed her help.
“Okay. I’ll set things in motion.” She reached for pen and paper. “Let me get some details.”
THE NEXT MORNING Tuck got a call from Gladys Upchurch. He mentored her grandson, Micah, after his father had killed his mother. The father was in prison and Gladys had full custody of Micah, who was now twelve and going through a rough period. Micah didn’t want to go to school because the kids picked on him, calling him names.
Tuck drove to the Upchurch house and took Micah to school. It gave them a chance to talk. That’s what the boy needed—to talk to someone. They made plans to go to a University of Texas baseball game and Micah brightened up. Micah was a good kid; he just needed a guiding hand and to know that someone cared and would always be there for him.
After Micah went inside, Tuck thought it was time to have a talk with the principal to let him know about the problem. The principal said he’d do what he could, but it was hard to control some of the kids. Tuck knew that and had to accept the explanation—for now.
When he reached his office, Opal called. Wilma Harper had passed away. She and her daughter would have one funeral and be buried next to each other. So much heartache and sadness. Tuck hoped they’d found everlasting peace.
That left Brady.
Tuck spent every spare moment he had at the hospital. Brady’s wounds were healing and he wasn’t quite so aggressive, but they had a long way to go. He didn’t speak, only made grunting sounds. Wilma had said he was saying words, but the
