Chapter 6 #2
"Maggie," Michael said, genuinely impressed, turning through the tabs. "This is extraordinary. I have paralegals who don't organize a file this well."
"I learned a long time ago not to trust Kevin's version of events," Maggie answered.
"So I started keeping everything. Every email.
Every text. Every phone call." She shrugged, pouring honey into her coffee.
“I tend to be a neat freak that likes everything in easy accessible order to find things fast.”
Michael looked up. "Every phone call?" His brows crinkled. “How do you have those?”
"I have recordings," Maggie admitted, her voice low. "I started recording them years ago, when I realized Kevin had a habit of saying one thing on the phone and claiming he'd said another. I checked, and it's legal in this state. They're on a drive. I can give you copies of all of them."
Michael felt a slow, cold anger begin to build in his chest on her behalf. Not at her. At the man who had made a warm, generous woman like Maggie feel she had to record her own husband's phone calls to protect herself.
"That was smart," Michael told her quietly. "That was exactly the right thing to do. We may not even need them, but having them changes the whole balance of the negotiation. Kevin's attorney is going to be a great deal less confident when he learns they exist."
"That's what I hoped," Maggie said.
The server returned with their coffees. Michael waited until she’d gone before he asked the question that had been sitting on his mind since the night before.
"What about Toby?" Michael asked. "Does Kevin have any contact with him? Any claim to him?"
Maggie's whole face changed at the sound of her grandson's name. It seemed to soften and harden at the same time.
"No," Maggie answered firmly. "None. And he never will.
I made sure of that two years ago." She wrapped both hands around her cappuccino.
"When all this started, Kevin tried to use Toby.
Tried to position himself as a grandfather with rights, as leverage.
So I made it part of an early settlement.
He signed over any claim to guardianship in exchange for something he wanted at the time.
He didn't even fight it, Michael. He signed away his own grandson without blinking, because he never wanted Toby.
He only ever wanted what having Toby could get him. "
Michael's jaw tightened.
"And Toby?" Michael asked. "How does he feel about all this?"
"Toby can't stand him," Maggie said plainly.
"And I don't blame him one bit. Kevin and his girlfriend, Vanessa, were never kind to that boy.
They'd make little comments. Leave him out of things.
Make him feel like he was in the way." Her voice dropped, and the hard edge in it could have cut glass.
"Toby is just a boy who lost his parents.
The two of them treated him like an inconvenience.
So no. Toby is well rid of him, and he knows it. "
Michael had to put his coffee down and take a slow breath before he trusted himself to speak as the anger at Kevin intensified.
"Maggie," Michael said carefully. "I need to ask you one more thing, and then I'll stop bringing up your grandson. But it’s something I need to be clear on.” His eyes narrowed slightly.
“What about Toby's inheritance from Daniel and Laura? I know they had a highly successful investment firm.” He watched her and saw her shoulders stiffen. “Has Kevin ever tried to touch it?"
Maggie's eyes flashed.
"He tried," Maggie confirmed. "Once. About eighteen months ago.
Daniel and Laura left everything in trust for Toby, with me as the sole executor.
Kevin's attorney made some noise about him having a claim as a step-grandparent, about the funds being mismanaged, about needing oversight.
" She shook her head. "It went nowhere, because there was nowhere for it to go.
But the fact that he tried, Michael. The fact that he sat in a room and tried to get his hands on the money our son left for his own little boy. "
"That's despicable," Michael said, and meant every syllable.
"That's Kevin," Maggie answered. “He has dollar signs for eyeballs and sees everyone as his personal money machine.”
For a moment, they just sat there, the morning light warm on the old wood table, the anger between them not at each other but at a man who deserved every bit of it.
Then Michael made himself put it away, pick the file back up, because anger was not going to help her, and a strategy was.
"All right," Michael said. "Here's where I think we stand, and I want you to hear the good news in this, because there's a lot of it."
"I'm listening," Maggie said, her eyes locked on him.
"The boutique is the heart of his claim, and his claim is weak," Michael explained.
"Your grandparents left you that building outright, years before you ever met Kevin.
That makes it separate property, plain and simple.
It was never a marital asset. He has no legitimate path to half of it, and any competent attorney knows that.
The reason this has dragged on for two years is not that he has a strong case.
It's that he has an attorney willing to file motion after motion to run up your costs and wear you down until you offer him something just to make it stop. "
"That's exactly what it's felt like," Maggie said softly.
"That ends now," Michael told her. "The strategy isn't complicated.
We stop reacting to his motions and start setting the pace ourselves.
We file to have the boutique formally recognized as separate property, with the deed and your grandparents' will as evidence.
The moment a judge affirms that, the whole foundation of his claim collapses, and his attorney knows it.
Once that's gone, there's nothing left to drag out.
He'll settle, because there'll be nothing left to gain by not settling. "
Maggie was staring at him.
"You make it sound so simple," Maggie said.
"It is simple," Michael answered. "It was always simple. You just had an inexperienced attorney who didn't have the experience to see it, going up against an attorney who was counting on exactly that."
Maggie let out a long breath, and Michael watched two years of weight visibly lift off her shoulders, and it was one of the most satisfying things he'd seen in a long time.
"Thank you," Maggie said, and her voice wasn't quite steady. "You have no idea how I'd started to think it would never end. That I'd be fighting Kevin forever."
"You won't," Michael promised her. "Give me two weeks to get up to speed and file properly. I'd be surprised if this isn't finished before the end of summer."
Their breakfast arrived. They ate while talking companionably.
Somewhere during their breakfast, their conversation drifted away from Kevin to everyday subjects that made them both relax.
They talked about Toby, about how well he was doing, about the gang of children running wild between Heart House and the beach all summer.
They talked about Maggie's boutique and the brides she was dressing, and the dream of the pavilion on the stretch of land behind Hearts Hotel.
They laughed, nodded, commented, and took their time eating as if trying to prolong their time together.
It was comfortable. It was so comfortable it frightened Michael. It was like they were on an easy date, but it wasn’t a date, he reminded himself. It was a business breakfast, nothing more
But underneath the comfort or pretending it was nothing more than a business meal, the other thing kept surfacing.
Maggie’s eyes held his a beat too long across the table.
The small private smile she gave him when he made her laugh.
The moment their hands both reached for the little jug of cream at the same time, brushing, and neither of them quite pulled back as fast as they should have.
Michael was sixty years old, felt like a teenager, and couldn’t, for the life of him, make himself stop.
They lingered over the coffee far longer than the meeting required, and finally Maggie glanced at her wristwatch.
“Oh, goodness,” Maggie said, her eyes widening. “Is that the time?” She glanced up at him. “I’m so, so sorry, Michael, but I’m going to have to rush off soon. I have a fitting at the boutique at eleven.”
“Of course,” Michaels said, draining his coffee and pushing his chair back. “I’d better get back as well.” He smiled warmly. “I have two big cases I’m working on.”
Maggie laughed as she went to the counter, where Michael paid the bill, and they walked together to the front of the café, reaching for the door at the same time.
Michael put his hand out for the handle. Maggie reached for it at the same instant. Their hands landed on the brass together, his over hers. Lightning zapped up his arm, and neither of them moved.
Michael went very still. Maggie's hand was soft and warm beneath his, and she did not pull it away.
He looked at her. She was looking up at him, and his heart went wild when he realized how close they were.
So close that he could see the small fleck of gold in her hazel eyes.
He swallowed. Her lips parted, and he had to use every bit of willpower he had not to bend his head and kiss her.
That thought knocked him out of his trance-like state.
"Sorry," Maggie said softly, and slid her hand out from under his.
"My fault," Michael answered, and his voice came out rough. “I wasn’t paying attention—again.” He gave a soft laugh.
He pushed the door open and held it for her, while she stepped through into the morning sun.
Michael took a steadying breath before following her out of the cafe.
They said their goodbyes on the sidewalk outside.
Michael promised to call her in a day or two once he'd read everything properly.
Maggie thanked him again, and this time she didn't try to hug him; he didn't try to kiss her cheek, and they were both painfully careful not to touch.
So painfully careful that he knew he must’ve looked like a stiff cardboard cutout.
"I'll be in touch soon," Michael told her, like he was talking to a stranger he’d just met.
"Thank you," Maggie replied equally stiffly. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
She gave him one last tight smile, then turned and walked down the street toward her boutique, her blue blouse bright in the morning light.
Michael stood on the sidewalk with her file under his arm and watched her go.
His heart was hammering hard like it was trying to chip through the bones encasing it. He could still feel her hand under his. He could still smell the lilies and vanilla. He stood there as whatever was left of the walls that kept his feelings for Maggie away crumbled a fraction more.