Chapter 10

ASHER

I shoot my mom a text, attaching the contract and highlighting my sloppy signature on the dotted line. Her response is a single emoji, a blossoming blue heart. There’s something about my mom that always makes me seek her approval, and this time is no different.

She never fails to give it, regardless of whether my actions are good, bad, or downright ugly. Her boundless maternal love is something I find myself wanting to take advantage of. I guess that makes me sound like a spoiled brat, huh?

I quickly dismiss that unpleasant thought, lacking the time, energy, or desire to dwell on it.

Today is Wednesday, my first day back with Daniel, and despite my inclination to show up late or not at all, I manage to haul myself out of bed by ten-thirty in the morning. This leaves me ample time to shower, get dressed, eat, and leave in time to meet him.

I never send him a text, so I’m entirely dependent on my sister to relay the necessary information. She doesn’t let me down, as he is expecting me when I walk through the door three minutes early. I could swear he is smirking as he glances at his wristwatch.

“Good,” he says, sliding a stack of papers my way. “File these in the appropriate folders in that cabinet, then we have three consecutive meetings with potential clients. You have an hour,” he instructs.

“No ‘Hi, how are you’?” I retort, picking up the stack of bound notes to take them to the filing cabinet.

“Didn’t think you wanted that kind of interaction. Aren’t I just a paycheck to get your parents off your back?” he asks, typing away nonchalantly.

I glance back at him, absorbed in his work, seemingly unbothered by the world. His words sting a bit. The fact that he’s already written me off on my second day doesn’t exactly inspire me to want to work here.

And I never ask Ella if she has any work for me. So, for now, I’m kind of stuck here. Ignoring his snide comment, I turn my attention to the notes, neatly arranged in alphabetical order, making my task easier as I sift through the cabinets to find each corresponding file.

It doesn’t take long; there aren’t that many files to put away. But I linger inside the drawers longer than necessary because why not? If I appear busy, he won’t pile more work on me. Right?

Twenty minutes is pushing it, though, so I eventually move to one of the chairs on this side of the desk, dragging it across the floor until I feel a safe distance from Daniel to sit. He glances at me once, then returns his attention to his laptop.

Sitting across from him, I can’t help but study him. His blonde hair is slicked back with product, a few fine lines around his eyes, some on his forehead, and smile lines are the only signs of age.

He still looks just like my Dad, like Atty and me. That’s probably what freaks me out the most. My sister is literally dating a clone of our father. Minus the blonde hair, of course.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What! No, nothing,” I stammer.

“My meetings will be here in five. Bring that chair over here. Sit next to me,” he orders.

Seriously? I grit my teeth, remembering the promise I made to Ella to make an effort—try. So I sit next to him, crossing my arms over my chest as he smirks at me.

“I see your sister has the same effect on you as your mother has on your father,” he jokes, which rubs me entirely the wrong way.

“I said I’d try, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, Uncle!”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve pulled yourself together; today has been good so far,” he mutters, pulling up document after document on his screen.

Just in time for Lexie to knock, accompanied by an elderly woman. “Mrs. Lemmings is here, Mr. Henderson,” she announces.

She looks particularly stunning in a blue oversized knit jumper dress, paired with knee-high black boots with a slight heel. Her face is naturally beautiful, with just a hint of makeup.

But it seems I’ve managed to annoy her with my gaze. She gives a sharp click of her tongue and rolls her eyes dramatically as she shuts the door. The elderly woman slowly makes her way to the lone chair on the other side of the desk.

“Mrs. Lemmings, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Please, have a seat,” Daniel initiates the meeting.

I can’t help but roll my eyes and adjust my position, preparing myself for a long, tedious afternoon. By the time the last meeting rolls around, I’m restless, unable to sit still, and utterly bored. So damn bored.

This job is not for me. I despise it, and it’s only the second day! It’s just…so monotonous.

“Miss Diaz is here, Mr. Henderson,” Lexie announces the final meeting of the day.

I can’t understand why such a young and attractive woman would choose to spend her days behind a desk for Daniel. But my attention is quickly diverted to a woman around my mom’s age who enters the room. She’s jittery, to say the least.

She looks terrible, possibly high on God knows what. She might even be an alcoholic; that’s how unhinged she appears.

“Mr. Henderson?” she asks, her eyes filled with a desperate hope as she looks at Daniel.

“Yes, would you like to sit down?” Daniel offers.

“Oh, um. Yes, of course.” She stammers, rushing to the chair as if she’s terrified of being ejected from the room. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were a real possibility.

“What can I assist you with, Miss Diaz?”

“I need your help, some sort of court orders. My daughter has been taken; she’s only sixteen. SIXTEEN,” she nearly yells, her hands flailing as she fights back tears.

“Taken?” Daniel inquires, moving around the desk to comfort her.

He kneels on the floor, extending his hand to hers. He’s trying to focus her attention solely on him, and it seems to be working. What the hell?

“My daughter has been missing for six months, six! The local police won’t do anything about it; they told me she’s a runaway, but I know she was taken.”

Daniel nods, allowing her to continue, even encouraging her. So she does.

“She came here to meet a boy she met online. I begged her not to, pleaded with her, but she’s a young girl, and you know how they can be.” Her eyes flick to me, a silent accusation in her gaze.

“He took her. I know he did, and she hasn’t been seen since. Her phone hasn’t been used, her watch either. He kidnapped her, Mr. Henderson.”

“I’m so sorry… Miss Diaz.”

“No, please. Just listen. I’ve done some research of my own.”

Daniel stands, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He walks back toward me, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. It’s as if he’s trying to block out the disturbing images her words are conjuring.

“The boy she came to see. It’s a fake profile, one of many being used in this city. They’re luring girls here, dozens of them. I’ve found other mothers who have lost their daughters too, Mr. Henderson.”

Her sobs finally break free, loud and heart-wrenching. Tears stream down her face in an instant. And that strange, gut-wrenching feeling stirs in my stomach—the same one that surfaces when I think of my father’s clubs.

“I am truly sorry for what you’re going through, Miss Diaz. I wouldn’t wish this on any parent, but this isn’t the type of law I practice. I wouldn’t know how to proceed in helping you.”

Daniel sinks into his chair.

“But, but… your father he—”

“My father did help in a similar case, yes. But I am not him; that’s not the type of case I handle,” Daniel says regretfully.

“Look, I have some contacts from my father’s old colleagues. I can call them and ask if any of them can help, but this is a police matter. It’s a missing persons case, Miss Diaz.”

I frown at Daniel, frustrated that he’s refusing to help this woman. Surely he could get a court order for the police to investigate the information this woman has uncovered, or…

“Please, I have no one else to turn to,” the woman pleads.

“I can’t. I’ll call my contacts. I’ll give them your information.”

He stands, signaling for me to do the same and escort Miss Diaz out.

“Asher, could you kindly show Miss Diaz out and arrange a cab for her?” he instructs me.

What the actual fuck? Is he seriously not going to lift a finger? I find myself rising, almost mechanically, to assist the sobbing woman out of her seat, guiding her gently by the small of her back, much like my father would do with my mother.

“Hey, Lex? Could you dial a cab for Miss Diaz?” I request as I lead her toward the cozy conference room.

“It’s Lexie, but sure. You’ll find tissues in the cabinet over there.”

I usher Miss Diaz into the room, settling her into a chair before I fetch a plastic cup of water and a box of tissues.

“You’ve got a bit of snot on your cheek,” I inform her, crouching before her with the tissues and water in hand.

She takes a tissue, dabbing at her face before giving my hand a gentle pat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t apologize. It must be awful not knowing where your child is. Can you tell me about this man?”

“Men,” she corrects me. “There’s a group of them. They’re abducting young girls, forcing them into labor.”

Her eyes grow wide, and a sick feeling settles in my stomach.

“Everyone’s turning a blind eye. No one’s willing to help, but I can’t just sit around while my little girl is…is being forced to,” she breaks down into tears again.

The raw, unfiltered sobs of a mother imagining the worst possible scenario.

“How about we grab a coffee and talk this through?” I suggest.

“O-okay,” she agrees hesitantly, studying me.

Maybe, if I can gather enough information, I can present it to my parents. Perhaps they can provide some assistance?