Chapter 2
Chapter two
Nobody told me logging into Zoom would be so difficult. I hadn’t had many online meetings, and I always forgot what I’d done the last time to make it work. When I finally found the correct link to click, I knocked my pen and paper off the table in surprise when a separate window opened up.
Bending down, I fished them out from under my chair.
“Did someone break into your house?”
The clipped voice drifted into my living room, and I shot up straight. My eyes darted to the kitchen visible in the background and the dishes stacked up in the sink. The counter was filled with drawings and pencils, and the floor was covered in toys and clothes.
Turning my attention to the screen, I wondered if I was in the right call. Because I was looking at the most striking man I’d ever seen. He looked like he was posing for a magazine.
He had tanned skin, jet-black hair that was a little longer on top, and a well-trimmed beard.
His large frame filled the screen, and if I hadn’t been so stunned, I’d have been intimidated by his size.
His wide shoulders strained the edges of the shirt he wore, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms. He wasn’t classically beautiful; his nose had a small bump on top as if he’d broken it, and his features were too masculine to be called anything but rugged.
The last thing I’d expected was my lawyer to resemble a Hawaiian warrior who could throw me over his shoulder and… well, point made, I guess.
He narrowed his beautiful hazelnut eyes at my daughter, who was leaning into the frame, her face covering the camera almost completely. It seemed he was getting closer acquainted with the insides of her nostrils if he wanted to or not. “Hello, hello, hello.”
Picking up Elana and pulling her onto my lap, I nervously chuckled. “You must be Mr. Moore.” I shifted her to the chair next to me when she leaned over to reach her Play-Doh. “I’m Mae Porter. Sorry about the mess. Kids, you know.”
He didn’t look as if he knew; his face remained stoic, his attention flitting briefly to where my daughter was now seated before focusing back on me. “Let’s get started.”
I wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants. “Of course.”
I lowered my head, knowing I needed him and couldn’t afford to piss him off. After all, he was only seeing me as a favor to Malena—though it was already clear that he wanted to be anywhere but in this meeting.
He gave me a sharp nod, then turned to look off to the side. A second computer screen, maybe? “I read the documents you sent me. Are you aware your husband is going for full custody with visitation for a weekend every two weeks?”
I couldn’t hide the wince his words caused. Hearing it said out loud by a stranger made my situation all too real. How had I gotten to this point? It felt like yesterday that my husband promised me the world.
Handing Elana the unicorn cut-out shape for the Play-Doh she was currently torturing, I took a deep breath. “I’m aware. And I want full custody.”
He nodded, then turned to the side to type something. “I’ll put a response together and send it to his lawyer. Now, I need to know everything there is to know about your marriage. Starting with why it ended.”
“He cheated.”
Vance nodded, then typed without once looking at me. “Good start. Might mean we can get more money out of him. It would help if you have proof, so send over anything you can find. What about the kids? Do they go to a private school? Are your assets in both your names? What about your house?”
The conversation continued in the same fashion, Vance shooting questions at me that I answered as best I could. He didn’t once look at me, and I grew sweatier with each question.
An hour later, he finally seemed satisfied. My body was slumped in the chair, and I felt like I had walked through the desert, my skin hot to the touch.
“I have everything I need for now. Usually, we start with mediation. I’ll get my assistant to book an appointment once they get back to us.”
Face set in an unreadable mask, he made a few more notes, then for the first time in almost an hour, turned to face me.
“Make another appointment for next week. This time without a child present so we can talk about things we can use to make him fold. Any text messages, receipts, recordings, videos. Whatever you have that makes him look bad will be beneficial.”
“Of course.”
I was almost home free before the apple of my eye threw what was left of her muesli bar. And for once, her aim was impeccable, hitting me in the forehead.
Vance didn’t so much as blink, making me question if it had actually happened. “I’ll see you next week.”
I nodded, barely able to speak through my embarrassment. “See you then. Thanks so much for your time.”
My response was cut off when he logged out.
Welp, that could have gone better.
Elana put her hands on my cheeks, pulling my face down to her. “I’m hungry.”
I made a duck face at her. “That’s because you threw half your snack at me.”
Still too shaky to get up, I dug crackers out from the pile of papers covering the table, hoping they weren’t too crushed or Elana wouldn’t eat them. After opening the packet, I handed them to her.
She took one look inside and broke out in sobs. “My fishes are broken. Who broke them?”
“They’ll still taste the same, honey.”
I knew as soon as I said it that I shouldn’t have.
Have I learned nothing in all the years I’ve been a parent?
She released a rage-filled bellow, and then I heard the crackers land somewhere in the living room.
My phone rang, and the display showed it was Keely. I answered, even though Elana was still making her displeasure known in the loudest way possible.
“Well, hello. Are those the sweet sounds of a tantrum I’m hearing?” Keely asked. “Put me on speaker, honey.”
I did as I was told, holding the phone out so Keely could talk to Elana. “Tell Aunt Keely what’s wrong, baby girl.”
Elana’s cries turned into little sniffles at hearing Keely’s voice. “My fishes are broken.”
“Oh dear, that’s a problem. Maybe you can have something else. Or even better, why don’t you sing your favorite song?”
I groaned and clenched my teeth. Keely had introduced my girls to Madonna when she was watching them one day, and Elana loved “Like a Virgin.” Those three words were thankfully—or not, depending on how I looked at it, since she sang them over and over again—the only words she knew from the song.
Right on cue, she started belting it out, which was only marginally better than the screaming.
“Thanks, Keely.”
“You’re welcome, darling. Now, the reason I’m calling is because I have a date on Saturday and nobody to watch the boys. Any chance we could trade?”
Since there was no way I could take Elana to my next appointment with Vance, a babysitting trade sounded perfect. Even if it meant my house might not be in one piece afterward. “Are you free next week on Wednesday for a few hours?”
“I can be. Text me the details and I’ll make sure I don’t schedule any clients.” Keely raised her voice a bit. “Beautiful singing, baby girl.” And I knew she meant it wholeheartedly. She was the most loving and affectionate person I knew.
At this stage, there was no point in continuing our conversation since I could barely hear her over the wailing. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
“See you then. Love you, honey.”
We hung up, and I spent the next hour coaxing my daughter into singing something else. Anything would work after listening to “Like a Virgin” for so long. But not even “Wheels on the Bus” was enough to distract her.
The last thing I was prepared for was Cockalorum knocking on my door with his walking accessory in tow.