“I promise it’ll be easy…”
From this picture and the way we’re staring into each other’s eyes, it looks like we belong together—like we’ve just finished fucking and are enjoying the aftermath.
“I don’t know who this man is.” I flip over the photo. “Like, that’s an honest fact.”
“You’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” he says. “Speaking of other things your husband is claiming, things my research team has found…”
I tune him out as he speaks, watching as he becomes sweatier, guiltier, by the second.
The tides are turning against me, and I can feel hints of Nate’s influence in every word he speaks.
“All so you could use his immense wealth to better your life…”
“Your husband has hired a legal dream team.” His voice is clear again. “They’re putting up a roadblock every time I turn a new corner, and even with him sending my office a few grand in sympathy funds for your case each week, it’s not enough to fight the Goliath we’re dealing with. I have two interns who are—”
“What did you just say?”
“Your husband has a legal dream team.”
“No, no, no.” I narrow my eyes. “The part about my ex-husband paying my lawyer under the table. The part that is literally the definition of a conflict of interest.”
“Payment is payment, Miss Jane.”
“All money isn’t good money, Mr. Walsh.”
Silence.
“You’re going to need a miracle and a dozen last-minute Hail Mary plays if you want this finished in two years at the rate we’re going.” He changes the subject and continues to avoid eye contact, rambling on and on.
The writing on the wall is now clearer than it’s ever been.
This man has never been on my side.
Nate got through to you long ago.
“I’ve been working on your case for a very low rate and extending a lot of my time,” he says, “I can’t afford to use my resources as aggressively as I would if you were paying my real fee, you know?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, I don’t know shit.”
The little trust I had in him dissolves, and I feel as alone as I did when Nate first moved me to this town.
“I’m a businessman.” He’s still talking, giving me a condescending smile. “I gave you a discount because I didn’t think Mr. Taylor would try to drag this out for years. I have other clients who are paying me thousands by the hour, clients who can actually afford me, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that—”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You’re fired.” I walk over to my door and open it. “Get the hell out of my house.”
“Miss Jane, I’m here to help you.”
“Then stop talking and leave.” I resist the urge to throw something at him. “If I wanted to sit around and listen to someone tell me that I should accept whatever scraps he thinks I deserve, I would’ve just stayed in my marriage.”
“Miss Jane…”
“I already had an asshole for a husband.” My mind is made up. “I don’t need another one to be my lawyer.”
Without another word, he picks up his coat and briefcase, then walks past me.
Stopping when he’s in the doorway, he turns around.
“You’ll regret this decision sooner than later,” he says. “By the time Mr. Taylor gets done with you, you’ll probably be homeless. I’m willing to bet on that.”
“Then prepare to lose.” I fire back, refusing to show any emotion. “When I get done with him, you might be homeless after I expose you for being a two-faced lawyer.”
He snorts. “You’d have to finish one year of college to even begin to understand the battle that you’re fighting, Miss Jane. This is the major league, and you’re in over your head.”
“What’s your level of education and experience say about you then?” I shrug. “You can’t even understand what a simple ‘Get the hell out’ means.”
He rolls his eyes and finally walks out. I slam the door on his exit as hard as I can.
I don’t need his help writing Nate out of my life anymore.
I’m more than capable of publishing this next chapter on my own.
End of Episode 12
Episode 13
Autumn
The following evening
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Nathaniel Taylor of Walt, Yule, and Taylor Financials!” The local news anchor welcomes the snake onto Good Evening, Montlake, the last hour of the news that no one watches.
The fact that I remembered the exact date they would feature him on this forgettable program speaks volumes.
He’s wearing a custom navy-blue suit, sans wedding ring, and from the caption plastered at the bottom, he’s there to discuss “Why You Can Trust Nate Taylor & His Firm with Your Future.”
I already know that this is all a part of his ongoing master plan: appear to be a nice guy in public as much as possible, and no one will ever believe a thing the greedy, uneducated wife says.