55

“My girl’s kicking ass,” Brett said. “Now, it’s up to you, Ford, to shelter that money from the tax gods, so it doesn’t all go to Uncle Sam.”

I laughed.

James had become one of my largest clients. As her earnings increased, so did the workload.

“You know I’m on it,” I told him.

“For what she’s paying you, you’d better be.” He clinked his glass against mine.

“Listen,” I said to him, “if you two start having some kids, it’ll make things a lot easier on me. I can set up—”

“You’re preaching to the choir, my man.” Brett took a drink of his scotch. “I’ve told her this countless times. I’m ready. I’m just waiting on her.”

James was young. At the peak of her career.

I understood why she wanted to wait.

“Maybe, during your next meeting, you can talk to her about pulling the goalie,” Brett said. “Tell her it’s for tax purposes.”

I chuckled. “Now, that’s a topic I’m staying far away from.”

“I know a topic I’m going to harp on tonight,” Declan said.

I groaned and nursed my drink. “If it’s Hannah,