Sarah Morgan - New York, Actually - A sparkling romantic comedy from the bestselling Queen of Romance

Daniel felt a flash of annoyance. “I’m no saint, Elisa, but I can assure you that my advice comes from a desire to do the best for you and the children, not from a need to add hours to my billings. And my advice in this case is don’t do it. You first came to me because your daughter had started wetting the bed and was displaying behavioral problems, and your son’s asthma was getting progressively worse. You were convinced that the atmosphere in the house was responsible.”

“And I was partly to blame for that. I was very upset about the affairs and I didn’t do a good job of hiding my feelings.”

“He was the one who had the affairs.” Daniel reminded himself that his job was to offer legal advice, not marital advice. Normally he had no problem with that, but today—

“Is something wrong? Are you sick?” Elisa was peering at him closely. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I’m not sick.” With an effort, he hauled his emotions back inside. “Don’t rush into anything. For the time being continue to live separately and give yourself breathing room.”

“He wants us to renew our vows and I want to do that as soon as possible in case he changes his mind. This time we both really want this to work. And it’s funny that we paid a ton of money on couples’ therapy, and in the end the best advice we got was free.”

Daniel was suddenly alert. “Somebody else has been giving you advice?”

“Yes. I never thought I’d thank another woman for giving me my husband back, but if I ever meet Aggie, I’ll hug her.”

“Aggie? Are you saying Henry has been having another affair since you separated?”

“No! I’m talking about the Aggie. The one who’s everywhere. She has a great blog, Ask a Girl . Anyway, Henry was so confused about what was happening he wrote to her, and she pointed out that as we had children it was worth trying extra hard. Surely you’ve heard of her. She knows everything about relationships. How to fix your marriage, or choose the perfect gift, or whatever. She has millions of followers on social media.”

“You’re saying Henry is taking advice from a blogger? Some sort of advice columnist?” Daniel tried and failed to hide his incredulity. “That’s what this is about? What did you say her name was?”

“Aggie.”

“Aggie what? Aggie Interference. Aggie-doesn’t-know-what-the-hell-she’s-talking-about?” He saw the first flicker of doubt and misery in Elisa’s eyes and felt a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, Elisa. But I don’t want you to make a mistake. If you’re going to do this, I want to be sure it’s what you want and a stranger who has never met you cannot help with that decision, no matter how many followers she has on social media.”

“But sometimes an impartial observer can see things more clearly.”

“We have a team of qualified people here who can—”

“No. And Aggie does know what she’s talking about. I don’t think she has a last name. But she’s a doctor.”

“Everyone has a last name. If they don’t reveal it there’s usually a reason.” And he doubted Aggie was a “doctor” of anything, except maybe deception. “All I’m suggesting is that you should think twice about taking advice from someone who isn’t qualified to handle the issues you’re dealing with.”

“Aggie is good. You are so suspicious.”

“That’s my job. I’m paid to be suspicious. I’m asking the questions you should be asking.” Daniel scribbled the name on his pad. In his experience people who didn’t give their last names were hiding something. Right now “Aggie” had better be hiding herself because he was going to track her down and tell her what he thought of her advice. And it wasn’t going to be a polite conversation.

The thought of Elisa and Henry back together under the same roof made his whole body chill. Elisa would shrink to half the person she was, and as for the children…

He kept thinking of Harriet, and that awful night at the school when their father had unexpectedly shown up in the audience. Even now he couldn’t think about it without shuddering.

Elisa stood up. “Daniel, you’re the best divorce lawyer in Manhattan and you’ve been great, but I don’t need a divorce lawyer anymore because I’m not getting divorced. What Aggie said struck a chord with us. She told us to think of the life we’ve created together. Our home. Our friends. Our children.”

“Didn’t he refer to them as baggage?”

She flushed. “He’d had a few drinks. We’ve both realized we should be putting the children first.”

She left the room and Daniel stayed at his desk, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped his office on two sides. From his desk he could see the Empire State Building, and farther in the distance the gleam of glass and steel of One World Trade Center.

Normally the view soothed him, but not today.

Who was this Aggie, that she’d tell a dysfunctional family to stay together? How could she make such an important judgment based only on a letter? And whatever letter or email Henry had written, Daniel was sure he wouldn’t have passed on the deep trauma suffered by his children as a result of their marriage.

He still couldn’t believe Elisa was willing to overlook everything that had happened.

And he couldn’t understand why everything today was affecting him so deeply.

Cursing, he pushed back from his desk and stood up.

His office was sleek and uncluttered, like the rest of his life.

It was the way he preferred it. He preferred to sail through life with neither anchor nor baggage. That way if he crashed his ship on the rocks, he wouldn’t take those around him down with him.

How would he have turned out if his childhood had been different? Would he have chosen to be a lawyer? Or would he have taken a different, gentler path?

The door to his office opened and Marsha walked in with some files and a mug of coffee.

“I thought you might need this. Looking at your face, I’m guessing I was right.”

“I feel as if I spend my entire day fighting. Why wasn’t I a boxer or an MMA fighter? It might have been cleaner.”

“You love fighting. You get that look about you. Clenched jaw. Dangerous ‘don’t mess with me’ glint in your eyes. I assume Elisa didn’t say anything you were pleased to hear.”

“My eyes glint? Why have you never told me this before?”

“Because when they glint I’m mostly too scared to open my mouth in your company, and when they stop glinting I forget to mention it. The flowers arrived and they’re beautiful, thank you. Now tell me why you’re stressed.”

“I’m never stressed. Only calm, and slightly less calm.” Giving up the pretense, he rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the tension. “The ability of the human being to screw up its own life never ceases to amaze me.”

“I hate to be the one to point this out, but that’s the reason this is a busy and thriving law firm. If we all got it right, you’d be out of a job.” She set the files down on his desk. “These are for you. And in case you’ve forgotten, it’s Audrey’s birthday today, too. They’re in the kitchen eating cake. If you have a minute, I know it would mean a lot if you could join them. I don’t want to contemplate what our working day would be like without Audrey, and Max is driving her insane. A few words from you would be compensation.”

Audrey was one of the paralegals. She’d been with the firm for two years and had proved herself indispensable after five minutes.

“Thanks for the reminder. And I’ll speak to Max.” Pushing aside thoughts of Elisa and what a reconciliation would mean for the children, Daniel checked the documents and signed. “Have you ever heard of someone called Aggie?”