2. Chapter 2
September
“I knew he was having an affair!” Mrs. Nelson tossed the manila envelope at Miller. “And here are the pictures to prove it.” She sat down in the chair across from Miller’s desk and smiled triumphantly as she leaned back into it. Ring’s gone. Looks like a reconciliation is off the table. He didn’t blame her if the pictures showed what she said they did.
Miller tried not to cringe as he released the clasp at the back. He hated this part of the job. He hated to see the infidelity, the bad decisions that damaged lives, and he really hated to look at the photos with the injured party sitting across from him.
Sure enough, the photos showed Mr. Nelson getting out of his car, walking into the house, and being greeted by a young busty blond wearing a little bit of lace. The photos showed that the scraps of lace didn’t last long. As Miller flipped through the photos he marveled at the stupidity of people. Of men. “Looks like they were too busy to close the curtains. That will work in your favor.”
“Ironically, these may be the only photos in existence that show my husband smiling,” Mrs. Nelson said.
“I’m sorry.” Miller shoved the photos back in the envelope and set it aside.
“Don’t be. He did this to himself, to us.” She took a deep breath. “What happens next?”
“Well, normally this wouldn’t impact the settlement, but I’ve reviewed your prenup and there is a stipulation on infidelity. These photos are your bargaining chip. What would you like?”
“Everything,” Mrs. Nelson purred.
“I can’t promise you everything, but I’ll do what I can to get you close to everything,” Miller reassured her. “As I mentioned at our last meeting, it would help if we had an idea how long this affair has been going on and if we had another source of evidence.”
“I know he’s sent her flowers. I found the charge on the credit card statement, but he dismissed it as a business expense.” Mrs. Nelson rummaged through her large Prada handbag to find the credit card statement. She handed it to Miller. He saw the charge from Wallflowers highlighted amongst the grocery and gas station purchases.
“If you find anything else, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll follow up on this charge, see if there are any others, and let your husband’s attorney know what we’ve found.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lynch. So far, you have lived up to your reputation.”
Miller stood as Mrs. Nelson left the room. This case was shaping up to be a good one. He didn’t like cheating spouses, but he did like making them pay. And he liked the additional billable hours this one would bring.
He hoped it would placate the penny-pinching partners when they reviewed his pro bono work. While Miller billed a lot, he also gave away more hours in free work than the partners liked. Miller couldn’t help it. If someone needed his skills, he didn’t want to turn them away just because they couldn’t afford Anderson, Anderson Cindy had all but put it there. “Have a good evening. Don’t eat everything at once,” Wren added and cringed.
“I’ll try not to, but I might send a picture to Jackson to torment him and warn him about a longer run tomorrow.” Miller moved past her, but then stopped. “If it’s possible, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about the box.”
“Why? Afraid it will hurt business if people found out the lawyer has a heart?”
“No. I’m more worried people will think I’m coaching for the free food, and I don’t want the other parents to feel uncomfortable. I’ve learned women are very competitive.”
“Really?” Wren leaned against the door and crossed one leg in front of the other. As much as she wanted him gone, she wanted to hear his explanation more.
“Yes. For example, post-game snacks for soccer. At the start of the season, it’s something simple, and appropriate, like orange sections. By the end of the season, it’s a flipping buffet—muffins, fruit kebabs, chip bags, sports drinks, you name it. Each mom wants to outdo the others.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Wren had to agree with him. She’d witnessed the same crazy behavior in Knoxville. It didn’t matter if it was book club or Bunco, every woman wanted to be the hostess with the mostest.
“And thank you.”
“For what?”
“For accepting and watching the box, and noticing I have a heart.” He wished her a good evening and left before she could say anything else. All she could do was focus on his retreating backside.
Oh, well? Don’t eat everything at once? The stupidity that had spewed from her mouth mortified Wren. Plus, she’d admitted he had a heart. It was one thing for her to know, but a totally different thing for him to know she knew.
Yes, she would admit it. Miller Lynch was a nice guy. Some might even consider him a catch if they were breathing and attracted to men. But, and it was a big but— unlike the perfectly sculpted butt of Miller Lynch, Esquire , she thought—he was a lawyer working toward partnership within the next year.
In fact, there was even a betting pool on it. The bet wasn’t on if Miller would make partner—no one would take that bet—but on when he would make it. Wren hadn’t gotten involved with the bet at all. She’d already helped one man reach his partnership goals and once in a lifetime was enough.