Single Mom’s Firemen: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

“You’re still nervous,” the lawyer says, watching my knee jiggle from across his giant, mahogany desk.

“I think I’m allowed,” I scoff, sinking deeper into the armchair in an attempt to soothe my own ragged senses. “You’d be nervous too if you were in my shoes.”

“Halle, I completely understand, but that’s why I’m here. To help you fight this all the way through.”

Jack Hoffman has been the Danson family lawyer for over twenty years and they assure me that he is more than capable of handling my case in court, especially since he is a notorious adversary of the Nash crime family.

“You’ve represented people in court against Harriet Nash, right?” I ask, watching as he reads through my file. He does his homework, an early brownie point for him. “And Lucius, too, before he passed?”

“Yes. I’m afraid Colby’s parents are, and were, terrible people,” Hoffman says, flipping through several affidavits and witness testimonies. We’re already piling those up from the firehouse and the handful of acquaintances who have known me since before I married Colby. “Lucius was a cruel and heartless man, but even he had his limits. There were certain things I know he specifically forbade his men from doing. Harriet is more of a barker. Not that much bite left in her since she buried her husband but she’s still a difficult opponent.”

“You can say that again,” I scoff.

“Colby, on the other hand, is dangerously disturbed. You did well to file charges and get a restraining order against him. It will play to your advantage against Harriet, too.”

“Right, because if my kids go anywhere near her, there’s an obvious risk of them being exposed to Colby’s aggressive behavior,” I say, nodding in agreement.

“It is possible that Harriet might argue that she has ceased all contact with her son,” he says, and the words hit me like a punch in the gut. “She might even go as far as to say that she has disowned Colby and banned him from the Nash premises, counting on him being in the wind and running from the cops to prove her point. She might say that she plans on raising Luna and Sammy to someday inherit the entire Nash business empire, and that Colby won’t be allowed anywhere near them. She may try to convince everyone that there is no more criminal activity going on within the Nash business. Of course, if the judge believes her, then he would be a complete idiot.”

“But it’s possible,” I murmur.

“Yes. I’m not going to sugarcoat anything for you, Halle. You need to know precisely what it is that you’re walking into.”

I have to appreciate this man for his patience and candor. I’ve been coming to his office, every Monday, for the past month. Chief Holt drives me if the Danson brothers are out on a call. I’m never alone, not while I’m out of the house or out of the fire station. It’s not the most comfortable arrangement, but it beats having to punch Colby’s lights out on the street.

“Has he called you at all since you moved in with the Dansons?” Hoffman asks.

“Maybe. I’ve received crank calls once or twice but no one spoke. I could hear whoever it was breathing on the line, and I have to assume it was him, though I don’t know how he got my number in the first place. Outside of work and the Dansons, the only other person that has it is my mother.”

Hoffman shakes his head slowly. “You should limit contact with her, as well.”

“Oh, I already have. She hasn’t been that helpful anyway.” It hurts to admit that. Every time I look at Marie, every time I see her going above and beyond for her sons, I can’t help but feel a tiny pang of jealousy, wishing I’d had a better mother in Shauna. So many of these issues could have been avoided, if only she’d been more present. “Do you think she gave Colby my phone number? I begged her not to.”

“From what I’m reading here, your mother has a serious gambling addiction,” Hoffman says. “And based on the tone of her character witness testimony alone, she is not your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah, that’s Shauna for you,” I say bitterly, nibbling on the inside of my cheek.

Hoffman exhales sharply. “Colby might’ve found a way to manipulate Shauna to try and get to you, including getting your phone number. I wouldn’t put it past him. Money supersedes blood in some cases, I’m afraid. I’ve seen it happen one too many times to not consider it a possibility.”

“Wow, you do not mince your words,” I mutter.

“I’m not here to hold your hand,” he reminds me softly. “But here’s the thing, Halle, everything I tell you to do or say is meant to protect you and your children from every single member of the Nash family.”

They’re terrible people. That we’ve already agreed upon. Colby’s father may have been a ruthless mobster, but at least he abided by a code. Colby doesn’t even have that. He proved it the minute he set fire to the diner knowing his children were inside. That man doesn’t belong in society and it pisses me off knowing that he is still free, still able to hurt me and my children.

Harriet, on the other hand, is playing fast and loose with the legal system. Hoffman is right. Her chances are slim but not impossible. All it takes is one slightly sympathetic judge and I could get screwed. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and pay the judge off, either.

“Now, I need to know something,” Hoffman says, pulling me back into the present. “Who knows about your relationship with the Danson brothers?”

I blink a few times, my blood running cold as he just sits there and stares at me, matter-of-factly and completely unfazed. “Excuse me?” I manage, my voice uneven and sharp.

“I’ve been the Danson’s family lawyer for a long time, Halle. I know everything there is to know about each and every one of them. It’s my job to keep their secrets.”

“Oh, God.”

“No judgment here, mind you,” he laughs lightly. “Love comes in many forms. I dare not question any of it. But the legal system and the judge might take issue with your lifestyle if it gets out. So I’m asking you again, who knows?”

I shake my head slowly. “Nobody. I haven’t told anyone, precisely for that reason.”

“Well, Marie definitely knows,” Hoffman grunts and makes notes in the files. “My guess is Steven is aware, too, but he likes to feign ignorance about the situation. Assuming it’s only those two, you’re safe.”

“Oh.”

He laughs again. “Marie knows her sons better than most. She’s the one who told me about their peculiar taste in relationships. Rest assured, Halle, she supports them, and she will go out of her way to protect them and the woman they clearly love.”

My face burns hot.

The woman they clearly love. Were it not for this sense of impending doom, I would’ve been genuinely touched by Hoffman’s statement. Love. What a beautiful word. What a wonderful feeling. In such a bad situation.

Part of me clings to the hope that this might work out after all. But part of me also still has one foot out the door. Just in case. It’s an awful sensation to live with, day in, day out. Not knowing if you’ll get a real chance at happiness after years of misery and abuse.

“Nobody else knows,” I calmly reiterate. “And I intend to keep it that way. I’m well aware of how badly this could play out in court.”

“I’d suggest keeping a public relationship with one of them, however,” Hoffman replies.

I give him a confused look. “Why? Colby and his mother will make me out to be a harlot.”

“I don’t think so. You’re divorced. You’re rebuilding your life. You’re in love, you’re sharing a home with a man and his brothers, a bedroom with just one of them. The others are fun uncles. You have their parents’ support, as well. Your children have a healthy and stable family environment to grow up in. Honestly, I reckon you’d have quite the advantage, especially given the Danson reputation. Good and hard-working men, firefighters, former Navy SEALs, American heroes through and through. The judge will eat that up, as opposed to the washed-up widow of a notorious mobster and her abusive son.”

“So much strategy goes into such a simple task,” I mutter.

“It’s mostly politics. That’s why so many successful lawyers go on to become successful politicians,” Hoffman chuckles. “It’s about what looks good in the eyes of the people, what makes sense, what is better in the interest of the children, in your case.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Hoffman nods in agreement, then keeps flipping through my file. “You never pressed any charges against Colby during your marriage.”

“No.”

“I presume you were pressured into keeping your mouth shut.”

I nod. “I also didn’t know that what I was experiencing was literal abuse until he actually hit me,” I sigh deeply, going over the many decisions, some smart, others not so much, that brought me to this point.

“And you filed charges after you left.”

I nod again. “Yes, but none of them stuck. Harriet’s lawyers are really good at swatting this stuff away.”

“True enough, but there will be a record of charges filed. Add those to what has happened in the past few months, along with the restraining order and the BOLO, and it’s already looking bad for Colby. By association it will look poorly for his mother as well. We simply need to be careful in how we control the narrative before the judge.”

And in how we cover our asses. The less people know about the Danson men and me, the better.