I look at him in surprise. “How do you know about that?”
“They sent us a letter. The law firm is on the deed to your properties.”
“Oh...I got the first letter a couple of months ago. Then I got a phone call.”
He closes his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “What did they say when they called? What number did they call?”
“They called my house line. They repeated what they said in the letter.”
“What did the man sound like? Did you save the message? Do you own the apartment you’re living in?”
“I deleted it,” I shrug. “I didn’t think it was important. And I don’t own it, we rent...why?”
He exhales a deep breath. “Blake, save everything. Never delete anything before bringing it here, okay?”
“Ooookay...do you know who wants the land?”
“I have an idea, but I can’t be sure,” he answers, looking down at his plate.
“They broke into my house last night,” I say as I watch his face.
His puts his silverware down as his eyes snap back to mine. I explain to him what happened in detail.
“Shit. You need to move. Hire security to be with you at all times. Tell your roommate to move out and get security for himself.”
He gets up and starts to pace the room, running his hand through his combed blond hair. I gape at him as I stand up and put my hands on my hips.
“What?” I sputter as I shake my head. “I can’t just tell my roommate to move. I can’t just get security to follow me around all day. I have a life.”
“Blake…” he pauses, his eyes softening. “That’s why I’m telling you to do this. If you want to have a life—and you want your friends to live theirs freely—trust me on this.”
I take a deep breath. “I had a dream last night,” I start as I look into his eyes. “I was on a farm with my dad and grandfather. There was a boy...the boy that was with me that night...and you were there, too.”
He closes his eyes and sighs as he clasps his hands behind his neck.
“I was playing tag with the boy,” I continue, my eyes watering at the memory. “I went up to you and said something. I think I called you my uncle.”
He opens his blue eyes, and I can see the sorrow swimming in them before he blinks it away and takes a deep breath.
“You have a vivid imagination, Blake. It sounds like a nice dream.”
I purse my lips and narrow my eyes. “I liked being around you. I remember that.”
He gives me a sad smile but gives away nothing else. For the next twenty minutes, we discuss how I can sell the land to those people without any trouble. He tells me he’ll have Veronica write up a sale contract. I would get market value for it, which is low, but I don’t care. I just want to rid myself of this.
“Mark, can you tell me if my father is dead?” I ask quietly before opening the door.
“Blake,” he sighs. “Your father died a long time ago. Are you happy now?”
I tilt my head. “Yes…and no.”
He gives me a baffled look.
“Yes, because you just admitted that you know. No, because I would have liked it better if he was alive.”
A slow smile appears on his face. “You’re going to make a great attorney, Blake.”
I smile back. “Thanks for the food, Mark.”
“Remember, security,” he calls out.
Shit. How am I supposed to explain to Cole that my attorney thinks I need security to follow everyone I care about? I told him I’d call him when I left the meeting, but I decide to send him a text instead. I need time to think about this.
Me: I’ll call you later. Back at work.
Cole: Okay, baby. I love you.
When I sit back in my cubicle, I check my email and see Veronica’s name. The title of the email is Security. I open it and see a list of names. When your attorney—one that knows more about your life than you do—sends you a list of people to hire as your bodyguards, you know things are serious. I replay last night’s dream in my head. I can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something in that dream.
I end up working on a case until 7:00, and I’m thankful that I ate at Mark’s office. I say goodbye to Gina and the receptionist before heading out. The floor isn’t completely empty; I see lights still on in various offices. In the elevator, I rummage through my purse for my keys and phone. I find them both as I reach the floor of the underground parking garage. Unlike the offices, the lot is drastically empty.
I walk over to my car, dropping my keys twice as I try to unlock my phone with my other hand. I hear shuffling behind me, but I reach for the handle before I look back, and lock the doors as soon as I get in.