Dear Stranger (Paper Cuts #3) Read Online Winter Renshaw

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Paper Cuts Series by Winter Renshaw
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
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I smirk and take her hand. “What’s not to love?”

“Maybe that you’re not so sure of yourself? You really need to have more self-confidence.”

“You’re right. I’m working on that.”

The day is perfect, mid-eighties, light breeze coming off the mirror-flat ocean. And yet it’s barely eleven, so the place is empty. It’s just me and Tenley, exactly how I like it.

In the past week, we’ve gotten even closer. She helped us move Ellie out of my place and into her new apartment, and even helped her decorate so it would feel more like home. It’s only half a mile away from my condo, and on a cul de sac, so I’m planning to get Jace a new bike, so I can teach him how to ride.

It feels like everything is working out. We just had to take that first step.

“I have news,” she says to me with a small, sly smile, her eyes dancing.

“Do you?” I can’t wait, because I can already tell it’s something good.

“I was just at the women’s center before I came here,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Of course she was. She’s there all the time, now, between job interviews. “There’s a shocker.”

“I know, right? Well, it turns out that Melanie—she’s the manager of the center—is moving to San Diego at the end of the month. They need someone to serve, at least on an interim basis. So they asked me.”

I chuckle. “Not a shocker, either, considering you are the best volunteer they have.”

“Yes, well, this is the best part. It comes with a small stipend, so I can set up a law clinic there, to help women with their legal needs. It’s going to be every Saturday, and staffed by volunteer lawyers, which I’ll obviously have to recruit. Isn’t that amazing? It’s like, everything I dreamed about, I’ll get to do.”

I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Abs—”

My phone rings. I lift it to silence it, but recognize the number, hold up a finger, and take the call. As I’d thought, it’s Mr. Ray, from the Law Offices of Milton and Ray, where I’d just finished interviewing, not twenty minutes before. “Hello, sir.”

I listen as he outlines the details of the job they’re offering me. Not partner salary, no, but a good bump up from my pay at Foster and Foster. Three-day workweek, handling wills and estates and boring stuff like that, but hey. It’ll leave plenty of room for other things. I ask for twenty-four hours to think it over, thank him profusely, and then end the call.

When I look at her, Tenley’s staring at me in shock. “I guess they do love you. I have never, ever gotten a job that easily.”

I laugh. “You thought that was easy?”

“So are you going to take it?”

“I’ll consider it,” I tease, even though I know that I’ll be calling Mr. Ray tonight with my acceptance. “As long as you make sure I’m the first attorney you hire to work pro bono at the women’s center.”

“I think we have a deal,” she says, offering me her hand to shake.

I take it, shake it, then turn it over, kissing her knuckles. “Good.”

But it’s more than good. It’s absolutely amazing, the way things work out.

43

It isn’t much, but it’s getting there.

The walls are white and still studded with pinpoint holes from the posters the last director had put up. There is no expansive, sweeping view of the Portland harbor. The desk is scuffed, and the task chair behind it is bleeding stuffing.

But I don’t care. What I’ll get to do here is so much better than anything I could’ve done as partner in Foster and Foster.

I rearrange the vase with cheery, fake daffodils at the corner of the desk, then fill the plastic holder with my brand-new business cards.

Portland Women’s Center

Tenley Bayliss, Director

“Tenley?” Francine’s voice comes through the intercom. “Your three o’clock is here.”

“Oh, please how her in.”

The woman who steps through the door isn’t much different from Ellie had been, when she first arrived. Shoulders slumped, eyes full of worry and doubt. I imagine my mother looked the same way, once upon a time. This woman is named Ann. She’s eighteen, and visibly pregnant with her third child. According to her intake form, her boyfriend left two months ago, and she hasn’t seen him since. No family, no friends, no money to speak of, she’s at the end of her rope.

“Hi!” I say to her, coming around the desk and shaking her hands. “Ann, right? It’s so good to meet you. Sorry, my office needs some décor. It’s pretty bland right now. Sit down. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

She shakes her head and perches on the edge of the chair. I slip onto my desk, letting my feet dangle.

“I’m so glad you found us,” I tell her. “You came to the right place. We’re here to help. So, tell me about these kids of yours.”



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