Chapter 7
7
C rime in Blue Beech is the equivalent of it in Mr. Rogers’s neighborhood.
Marriages last lifetimes.
People respect their neighbors.
I definitely have my work cut out for me here.
But this morning, Brielle Huxley called me for divorce representation. I had gone to school with her and her husband, Rhett. They were high school sweethearts who married and had two children. Rumor is, Rhett was caught cheating with the nanny.
Brielle walks into my office, dark circles under her eyes and her blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun. She drops her Chanel bag on the floor and collapses on my patterned pink chair. “I want to take him for everything he has, Essie.”
Cheating rumor definitely true.
“I have faith in you,” she adds.
I stare at her from across my desk. “Does Rhett have representation yet?”
She nods. “As soon as I told him I was leaving his ass, he called an attorney. Terrance’s new guy. I forget his name.” She flicks her manicured fingers through the air. “Rhett said he was some hotshot attorney in the city before moving here. ”
I gulp when she mentions Adrian but then hold back the urge to roll my eyes at her referring to him as a hotshot attorney . Don’t get me wrong. Adrian is a great attorney, but like me, he fell victim to Laurence and Charles. Neither of us was ever given a decent opportunity to show our strengths there.
“When can you start?” she asks between chomps of chewing her gum. “How long until I can divorce this bastard?”
“I can start right away.” I grab a notebook and pen. “Tell me everything I need to know and what you’re asking from Rhett.”
“I want half his money and a court order that forbids my children to be around his mistress.”
“Is she a danger to them?”
“No. But we hired her to babysit our children, not screw my husband.”
Understandable from her point of view, but I doubt the court would agree she’s a danger to the children if Brielle trusted her with them before.
We talk for the next hour, and I take notes while Brielle fills me in on their marital problems, Rhett’s infidelity, their finances, and how she thought their future would be different.
After she leaves, I debate on whether to call or email Adrian.
I decide on email.
The less personal, the better.
But there’s a slight problem with my plan.
The only email addresses I have for him are his old college and Adaway and Williams ones. Which means I have to call Terrance’s office and ask for it.
“Hey, Essie! How are you?” Ralph asks after I greet him. “I heard you opened a firm here. That’s awesome! But everyone knows there will never be a law firm secretary as fabulous as me.”
Ralph works with Terrance and at Down Home Brewery. Years ago, when I was in high school, I used to babysit him for extra cash.
“There will never be anyone in this town as fabulous as you,” I say with a laugh .
“What can I do for you?”
“Can you give me Adrian’s email?—”
“One sec,” he chirps. “I’ll transfer you to him.”
“Wait!” I shriek. “No?—”
It’s too late.
I lose him. The line rings twice and then stops.
“This is Adrian.”
Goose bumps spread over my entire body at the sound of his voice.
It’s the perfect mixture of masculine and sincerity.
“Hey.” I exhale a steady breath. “It’s Essie.”
“Essie.” He slowly repeats my name, his voice deepening as it ends.
Heat crawls up my spine.
No. No .
The mere simplicity of this man’s voice shouldn’t turn me on.
I clear my throat to empty my thoughts.
Doesn’t work as much as I hoped for.
“I’m representing Brielle Huxley in the divorce from her husband, Rhett,” I tell him, my voice growing more professional, “one of your clients.”
“Rhett said she didn’t have representation.”
“She does now, and we expect Rhett to pay her attorney fees.”
Brielle worked in the office of Rhett’s plumbing company, but he only paid her minimum wage. She spent her paychecks on bills, so she has no savings. Even with the discounted rate I gave her, she can’t afford legal bills.
“Rhett won’t go for that,” Adrian says like he’s suddenly Rhett’s bestie.
“His attorney had better talk him into it then.”
“I don’t work for you.”
I can’t help but mock his words and roll my eyes. “She wants primary custody. Alimony. Half of everything. ”
“How about we discuss her demands over drinks tonight?”
I frown. “How about you pay attention to what I’m saying, and that won’t be necessary?”
“I’ll come to your office then.”
“You are banned from my office. No jerks allowed.” I drum my fingers along my forehead. “All I need is your email so we can discuss the case professionally.”
“Don’t want to do drinks? Understandable. You probably need to eat after a long day’s work. We can meet for dinner, and I’ll write my email on a piece of paper for you. Shirley’s. Seven o’clock.”
“You’re not bribing me with dinner so I can get your email.”
“It’s not bribery. I forgot my email, and only food will help me remember.”
I open my mouth to scream at him but shut it. This is my time to show Blue Beech what I’m capable of, and having dinner with the attorney I’m up against isn’t professional. I need to win so that people want me as their attorney, not him.
“The children are to have no communication with the mistress,” I tell him as if the dinner invite never existed.
He chuckles. “She is their former nanny and has been around the children for years.”
“Potato, potahto,” I drawl out. “I’d advise your client to work with Brielle because we don’t plan to go easy on him.”
“He has a prenup, Essie.”
“He also had an affair. I’ll need a copy of that prenup so I can pick it apart.”
“I’ll bring it to dinner tonight.”
“There will be no dinner tonight. You can email me at?—”
“Tonight,” he interrupts. “The diner. Seven. I’m not emailing you anything.”
He hangs up.
Are you kidding me?
There’s an urge to call him back to get the last word .
But I don’t even have his direct line. No way am I having Ralph, one of the biggest gossipers in town, know I’m calling Adrian again.
Adrian thinks he’s winning here, but he’s so wrong.
I’ll convince him to leave my town, just like he left me all those years ago.