I Speak Floral, Not Legal
KALLIE
Seven forty-five a.m. Plenty of time before my meeting with my lawyer. I probably should have just opened Bloomhaus myself instead of asking Grey to do it. Can’t go back now, so may as well make the best of my morning.
I roll out of the warm blanket cocoon I’ve been nestled in for the last hour while doom scrolling. Funny animals, trending floral arrangements, the latest book recs from my favorite authors and influencers. Anything, absolutely anything, to keep my mind from wandering to my appointment.
I release a deep sigh as I sit up.
“Why do exes have to be such asshats?” I mutter to the universe. “Or why does it have to be mine?” I add saltily.
The universe does not see fit to answer.
So with another sigh of aggravation, I get up out of bed and head for a shower.
There’s nothing I want more than a scalding hot soak to release the tension lurking in my anxious body, but showers have been cooler these days.
The heat is a painful reminder of the natural heat of a crimson red body that used to be mine.
Even thinking about him causes me to wince, the ache in my chest, my constant companion, flaring to near-unbearable heights. It takes several deep breaths and a good deal of pressure to the center of my chest before I can actually get on with my shower.
Today I have my first face-to-face with my lawyer since the divorce was finalized. Up to this point, we’ve only communicated by phone and email. Neeve, my sweet as sugar but will legally rip you to shreds lawyer, called as soon as she had combed through the court documents.
Now we’re sitting down for a face-to-face to discuss the legal strategy to prove Matt is a gold-digging prick after a quick buck who is determined to ruin both my personal and professional life all at once.
I put on a light dusting of makeup and fix my hair before getting dressed in my nicest sundress, topped with a cropped blazer and cute sandals. I’m going for cute and confident, but end up feeling meh and nervous.
“Get it together, Kallie. Matt is just a bully after quick cash. He has no grounds to contest the divorce, and it’s not like you haven’t been here with this dick before.”
Except last time, he viewed Bloomhaus as an unprofitable money pit. Now, though…now he sees what I always saw. A successful business that just needed the right marketing and clientele to be profitable. He just lacked the love and dedication I have for my shop.
I grab my keys, head out to my car, and am halfway out the driveway when I realize I left my cell.
Dashing back in, I quickly snag it from the bathroom counter and run back to the car.
I make it all the way to the stop sign at the end of the street before I realize my purse is still on the kitchen table.
Back to the house I go, heading inside and swiping my purse, glancing around to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything else.
Satisfied I’m set, I climb back in the car and head out.
Five minutes later, I’m pulling back into the driveway, again, to get the folder of financial records and legal documents I left on the couch.
This time, when I climb inside the car, I rest my head against the steering wheel and breathe deeply.
“Coffee. Go get yourself coffee and something to eat, Kallie.” I say to myself as I leave home for the fourth time.
On instinct, I head to the coffee shop where Evren and I would meet when we could for a break in the afternoon.
My heart aches with longing and loss. I debate going to another coffee shop, but in the end, I head inside.
I place an order for my favorite caramel drink and Evren’s favorite pastry. A quick glance at the time tells me I have enough time to sit in the cafe to eat before my meeting. A barista drops off my order, and I inhale the rich aroma of roasted coffee and flaky, buttery pastry.
Tears gather in my eyes as I bring the delicious treat to my lips and take a bite.
I close my eyes and hear Evren’s deep voice, his slight moan of appreciation as he ate this same pastry.
The way he’d smile when he caught me looking at him.
How he’d always feed me a bite even when I insisted I didn’t need one.
I let the memories wash over like a rogue wave. One that I embrace because even through the profound pain and grief, it feels like he’s here with me, wrapping me in his strong arms and supporting me.
Wiping my tears, I finish my food, take my drink to go, and head to my meeting.
Three hours later, I’m finally able to sit down and talk with Neeve. She felt terrible for getting stuck in court and had wanted to reschedule, but there was just no time that worked for either of us other than today.
“I’m so sorry, Kallie,” Neeve says again, spreading out my file in front of her.
“It happens. I’m just sorry there was no way to reschedule,” I say, wringing my hands in my lap nervously. I was honestly slightly relieved by the wait. It put off the shitshow that was about to be unleashed for just a little while longer. Unfortunately, my reprieve was now up.
“Ok,” she says, leveling me with her gaze. “It’s not great, but it’s not hopeless.”
“Ok” is all I can manage.
She picks up the pile of financial documents I brought in. “These are okay, but knowing Matt, he’ll have his lawyer question them.”
”They’re bank statements.”
“I know,” she says gently. “But we live in a digital world filled with deep fakes and AI. It’s easily argued that you could have faked these when you turned them over. He could also claim that, because you have a long history with your bank, the documents were altered in your favor.”
“Fuck,” I whisper as I slump back into the chair I’m sitting in.
She nods and picks up another document.
“The other problem is that Matt is claiming you withheld the contract information for the grocery store contracts. Based on that, he argues that he did not have a comprehensive understanding of the value of Bloomhaus. Had he been aware of the profit that Bloomhaus generated from the grocery store partnerships, he claims he would have contested your request to have sole ownership in the business.”
Neeve kept talking, but the words were blurring together. I held up a hand, and she immediately stopped speaking.
“I speak floral, not legal. My brain is rapidly shutting down because your words are implying he might actually have a case. Tell me in the simplest of terms what’s happening and how to fight it.”
Her lawyer mask, fierce and fighting, drops for a moment, and she gives me a soft nod.
“Basically, Matt is claiming you had these partnerships in place before the divorce was settled. Given that the initial agreements were made verbally, it’s hard to disprove his contention that the contracts were actually in place before the date you recorded.
The easiest way to disprove that is by hiring a forensic accountant. ”
“ Forensic accountant?” I question as my head spins in circles, exorcism-style.
Neeve nods. “Think of it as a financial Sherlock Holmes. They get unrestricted access to all of your financial accounts. Everything from savings to checking, stocks, bonds, and anything else, personal or professional. They comb through every detail and verify that all your financial history is on the up and up. In this case, I’d suggest handing over everything from when you opened Bloomhaus until now. That’s complete financial disclosure.”
The thought of someone seeing all of the struggles, many of which were courtesy of the very shithole of an ex-husband dragging me back to court, makes me very much want to projectile vomit—also spinning head, exorcism-style.
Unclenching my hands and wiping my sweaty palms on my dress, I swallow down my fear, remembering my conversation with Grey from a few days ago.
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” I say with determination and a driving will to fight the micro dick.
“I know you don’t, hon,” Neeve says gently. “The thing is, it’s expensive.”
“How expensive?” I ask with a sinking feeling in my gut.
Neeve cringes and averts her eyes. “Three to six hundred.”
I exhale the breath I’d been holding. Not as bad as I thought.
“Per hour,” Neeve finishes.
The world goes sideways as I begin choking on the exhaled breath.
“Per hour!” I exclaim while trying desperately to breathe through my rising panic attack.
“I know. It’s terrible, but I promise you it’s absolutely worth the expense.”
All I can do is nod my head. Shock is setting in. My whole body is going numb, to include my brain.
I’m so incredibly fucked.
Neeve stares at me with utter sympathy. “We need to move fast on this, Kallie. I’m afraid your snake of an ex will try to make a move and catch us unprepared.
I can set up a meeting with someone next Tuesday.
If you can bring all your financial statements as well as access to any accounts to that meeting, we can get the process started. ”
“Ok,” I say weakly, just barely managing to stand on legs that feel like jello. I thank Neeve for her time and make my way to my car. I shoot off a quick text to Mel, giving her the cliff notes of the meeting, then head for work.
The drive from Neeve’s office to the shop is a blur as my mind scrambles to form a plan to pay for a forensic accountant that doesn’t involve a bank heist.
When I enter the shop, I’m met by Grey, standing behind the counter.
“Hey, Kal,” he says.
“Hey, Grey. Thanks for covering. I’m so sorry the meeting took so long.”
He waves away my words. “Not a problem. I told you, you didn’t have to come in at all. I know how stressful this all is. How was the meeting?”
I can feel my body going as rigid as the lucky bamboo plants on the counter.
“I know, and I appreciate it, but I was gone for a week, and I still feel awful. And the meeting—It was…informative. How were things here? Busy?” I ask, avoiding the question and hoping my voice doesn’t betray my anxiety.
The look Grey gives me is screaming, “I see you dodging my question, but I’m gonna let it slide…for now.”