Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Some situations are just shit. Stop whining and get a grip!
Tips and tricks for every situation from divorce lawyer Connor Stone
Such beautiful, insightful words. A natural philosopher! - Rachel
Couldn’t they do yoga a little farther down the beach? Why the hell did it have to be outside his window?
His client probably wouldn’t ask him in this meeting what Rachel James looked like in leggings and a sports bra, but he could have given a detailed, highly unprofessional description that was far more definitive than anything a lawyer had ever given.
Shit, if Rachel suddenly disappeared and the police were looking for her, he’d probably be the best witness right now!
He ran his hand over his face and tried to focus on Mrs. Teager. She was reluctantly writing down all the assets that had come out of their marriage, even though she’d insisted she didn’t care about anything as long as she got to keep the kids.
He believed her. She wasn’t interested in money or power.
But that was exactly what made her vulnerable, and he wasn’t about to let her asshole husband take advantage of that and keep a penny more than he deserved.
In those moments, he both loved and hated his job.
He loved that he could help her and that he could make sure she received what she deserved, even though right now she believed she didn’t want it.
That was all about to change. He hated that she looked so incredibly upset.
He had to insist that she talk to her children about the fact that they might have to choose between their parents, at least in court, no matter how many times she assured him it wouldn’t come to that, that Mr. Teager wouldn’t force her hand. That he was merely bluffing.
Connor had been playing the game for too long. Angry, powerful men were far too seldom afraid to use their children.
So he didn’t blame his brain for preferring to focus on the way Rachel’s dark hair clung to the back of her neck as she saluted the sun.
The sisters didn’t look much alike. Lucy, the youngest, if he could believe Cian (which he could, because the guy could easily publish a gossip rag about Sunshine Pier), was under five-foot-seven with wavy dark red hair and a curvy body.
Maddie had the same hair, only light brown and a rounder face than her sisters, which was what made her seem so likable (not that he would ever tell her that).
Rachel’s hair, on the other hand, was long and hung straight down her back.
It was darker than the other two. She was tall.
When she stretched toward the sun like she was doing now, she was probably close to five-foot-eight.
Her body was a mixture of athletic and sinewy, with the definite hint of a low-carb life.
But her curves were in the right places to…
“Mr. Stone?”
Blinking, he tore his gaze away from the beach, even though he hadn’t noticed a single grain of sand.
Shit. He was unfocused, something he didn’t really allow in any area of life. He quickly closed the pleated blinds and cleared his throat. “Are these all the valuables and assets?” he asked, nodding at the list Mrs. Teager had just finished.
Hesitantly, she shrugged. “Well, there are his cars, but…they’re his cars. I never used them, and he paid for them with his money. He needs them.”
“No one needs more than one car. Write them down. Every single one,” he stated calmly. “You’re still married, Mrs. Teager. There’s no his and mine yet. The cars are objects in your marriage, so you have a right to them.”
She sighed. Her kindness certainly made her daily life easier — but it was extremely impractical in a divorce.
“Well, if you say so. About what you said the other day…” She nervously brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face as she added the cars.
“I don’t believe it’s necessary to tell the twins that they might have to make a choice. ”
Fuck. It was bad enough having to have this conversation once.
“Mrs. Teager,” he replied gently, folding his hands on the table, “I just want you to warn them. If Lance and Lacey are called into court and no one has talked to them that the judge might ask them who they’d rather live with…
it will hurt them more, overwhelm them more, than if you talk to them about it beforehand.
And I strongly suspect that if you don’t, your husband will get ahead of you, make absurd promises, and win them over…
” He rubbed his tense jaw. “…Win them over to his side.”
Mrs. Teager stared at him with such horror that Connor’s heart clenched.
Yes, he had a heart, even if some questioned it.
But you didn’t win negotiations by loudly proclaiming that you were capable of compassion.
Connor had no problem being called a cold-blooded jackass by his opponents instead of a loving jerk.
“They’re seven years old! They should never have to make a decision like that!”
He swallowed. “No, they shouldn’t,” he admitted. But sometimes children had to shoulder more than they should. “Ultimately, it’s out of our hands, Mrs. Teager.”
She nervously picked at her thumbnail. “But you said it probably won’t go to court. That you’re trying to reach an out-of-court settlement beforehand.”
“That’s true, but custody cases are always more complicated. Especially when your partner insists on sole custody to force you to reconsider the divorce.”
“Yes, but that’s just it. Malcolm doesn’t really want it…”
“Mrs. Teager,” he replied sharply, pushing the gravity of the situation, “you know your husband better than I do. Is he a good loser?”
She swallowed and gripped the tabletop. “No. He’s the worst loser.”
Yes, he’d known that after meeting him just once. Her husband was all about his power, and he was willing to humiliate and make his wife suffer for daring to file for divorce. He wouldn’t relent.
“But he’s not a bad father,” she whispered, looking at him earnestly.
“Really. He always read to them in the evenings. He attended Lance’s field hockey games.
It would be better for them if he stayed in their lives.
He worked too much and, yes, the housework, parenting, parent-teacher conferences, and the rest mostly fell to me, but…
I had more time! I enjoyed doing it. I don’t want his cars.
I don’t deserve them. I just want us to find a good solution for the kids and… ”
“Did you really have more time, Mrs. Teager?” Connor asked coolly. “Are you telling me it took you less than sixty hours a week to take care of the kids, the household, vacation plans, your husband’s schedule, and all the rest?”
She swallowed. “No, but that’s not work…”
“Of course it is,” he replied tersely, his knuckles whitening.
He realized the whole thing was getting to him, that he probably should have dropped the case, but…
he couldn’t. “You’ve worked just as hard for your family as your husband has, if not harder.
You’ve earned at least fifty percent of your joint fortune.
And I know you want the best for your children.
I know that. But sometimes the best thing is to be honest and tell them exactly what might happen. ”
“But then there’s no going back,” she whispered. “Then…we’ll really get a divorce. He won’t forgive me for that. If I tell the kids he’s asking them to make a choice.”
But he was. She’d only be being honest.
Connor took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with his middle finger and thumb.
He hated this situation, hated that she was clinging to the small chance that she and her husband would stay together and everything would be okay.
Hated that he was her lawyer and had to remain professional.
He was supporting her in her divorce, not her decision whether or not to go through with it in the first place.
Mrs. Teager was a strong woman, but she still had a soft spot for her husband, no matter how difficult their marriage had been and no matter how many reasons had driven her to file for divorce. He was…her soul mate, the one she now had to give up.
The word had been mentioned at their first meeting, and Connor had known it would cause problems. He should have listened to Cian and refused to take the case.
But he knew Mrs. Teager’s husband had too much money and would hire a shark of a lawyer — and that she wouldn’t be able to find anyone who would fight for her as well as he did. So what choice was there for him?
“Claudia.” He usually avoided using his clients’ first names; it damaged the detachment he needed to remain professional.
But some people needed the personal touch, as difficult as it was for Connor to give it.
“The question isn’t if he’s a bad father.
The question is if he’s a good husband. If you want to be with him.
It’s okay if it’s about you too and not just the kids.
You shouldn’t base your life entirely on them.
Lance and Lacey are happier when you’re happier. ”
Her eyes swam with tears, and as the first ones rolled down her cheeks, Connor reached for a tissue and handed it to her.
She nodded gratefully and wiped them away. “It’s just so hard. I know it’s over. That he’s lazy and always did the bare minimum to keep me halfway content. But…no one has ever understood me like he does. No one has ever made me feel so good.”
“And no one has ever made you feel so bad,” he said quietly.
“Yes. Yes, of course.” She waved it off, as if that was unimportant. But it wasn’t all bad! “There are just so many changes coming my way. And the whole divorce war…”
“Leave that to me,” he interrupted firmly. “Really. Just think about yourself. I’ll take care of the rest. I’m damn good at what I do. You’ll get what you deserve.”
She smiled shakily and squeezed his hand before standing. “Okay,” she whispered. “That’s it for today?”
He nodded.