Between Sisters

Seventy-two million dollars.

Meghann held on to her ordinary smile by dint of will, afraid that her mouth would drop open. This was the biggest case ever to fall in her lap. She’d waited her whole career for a case like this. It was supposed to be the trade-off for all of the sleepless nights she’d spent worrying over clients who couldn’t pay their bills. Her favorite law professor used to say that the law was the same regardless of the zeroes. Meg knew better: The legal system favored women like Jill.

They should probably hire a media consultant. A case like this could generate a lot of publicity.

She should have been excited by the prospect, energized. Surprisingly, she felt detached. Even a little sad. She knew that, for all her millions, Jill was still a woman about to be broken.

Meg reached for the phone and pressed the intercom button. “Rhona, bring me the lawyer lists. Seattle. L. A. San Francisco. New York and Chicago. ”

Jill frowned. “But . . . ,” she paused when the secretary came into the room, carrying a sheet of paper.

“Thanks. ” Meghann handed the paper to Jill. “These twenty lawyers are the best in the country. ”

“I don’t understand. ”

“Once you’ve spoken to them, they can’t represent your husband. It’s a conflict of interest. ”

Jill’s gaze flicked over the list, then slowly lifted. “I see. This is divorce strategy. ”

“Simply planning ahead. In case. ”

“Is this ethical?”

“Of course. As a consumer, you have every right to get second opinions. I’ll need a retainer—say twenty-five thousand dollars—and I’ll use ten thousand of that to hire the best forensic accountants in Seatt

le. ”

Jill looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing. Finally, she nodded and stood up. “I’ll go see everyone on your list. But I assume that if I choose you, you’ll represent me. ”

“Of course. ” She remembered at the last minute to add, “But hopefully you won’t need me. ”

“Yes,” Jill said, “I can see that you’re the hopeful type. ”

Meghann sighed. “I know people all across this country are happily married. They just don’t come to see me, but I do hope—honestly—that I won’t see you again. ”

Jill gave her a sad, knowing look, and Meghann knew: The decision might be soft around the edges and filled with regret, but it had been made.

“You go ahead and hope, then,” Jill said softly. “For both of us. ”

“You don’t look good. ”

Sprawled in the black leather chair, Meghann didn’t move. “So, that’s why I pay you two hundred dollars an hour. To insult me. Tell me I smell, too. Then I’ll really get my money’s worth. ”

“Why do you pay me?”

“I consider it a charitable deduction. ”

Dr. Bloom didn’t smile. She sat—as always, chameleon still—watching. If it wasn’t for the compassion in her dark brown eyes, she could easily be mistaken for a statue. It was often that compassion—an emotion that bordered on pity—that undid Meghann. Over the past twenty years, Meg had seen a constant stream of shrinks. Always psychiatrists, never counselors or psychologists. First off, she believed in a surplus of education. Second, and more important, she wanted to talk to someone who could dispense drugs.

In her thirties, Meg had gone through a new shrink every two years. She never told them anything that mattered, and they always returned the favor.

Then she’d stumbled across Harriet Bloom, the stone queen who could sit quietly for an entire hour, take the check, and tell Meghann it was her money to spend wisely or throw away.

Harriet, who’d uncovered a few artifacts of the past that mattered, and surmised some of the rest. A dozen times in the past year, Meghann had decided to sever their relationship, but every time she started to actually do it, she panicked and changed her mind.

The silence was gaining weight.

“Okay, I look like shit. I’ll admit it. I haven’t been sleeping well. I need more pills, by the way. ”