Page 18 of Midnight Torment

Maryanne slowly left the room, nodding to Flynn on her way out.

“What an asshole,” he said, sinking into the chair beside me. “I’ll just keep the house and my car collection.” He rolled his eyes.

“He’ll be forced into a corner and come out fighting,” I replied. “This is about to go from a reasonably amicable divorce to one filled with tension and hatred. I normally try to avoid that.”

“Fair enough.” He sat back in his chair and concentrated on the table in front of him. “My dad took everything, including the house, and left me and mum with nothing. He moved his new wife in without even changing the curtains and we became nothing more than a memory.”

He slowly turned to look at me. “He appeared at one of my races with the son that replaced me and expected me to welcome him with open arms.” He swallowed. “I pretended that I didn’t know who he was, even though it almost killed me. He didn’t want to spend time with me, he wanted me to get his other son a chance at racing with my team.”

“What a dick.”

His lips twitched. “Yeah, some men are just sperm donors, others are dads. The difference can be seen in the children.”

“That doesn’t just apply to men,” I said. “Some women shouldn’t be allowed to have children. They are merely incubators and abandon them as soon as they can grab their coat and run out the door.”

The noise of a throat clearing in the doorway almost made me jump. “Your next client is here, if you’re not busy,” Kerri said with her normal snideness.

Maybe Flynn was right and I should have her moved somewhere else. I hated to fail at anything in life, but she was destined to be the first person I had to admit defeat with.

“Thank you, Kerri. Could you bring us in some coffee, please?”

Her eyes narrowed at me before moving suspiciously to Flynn. “I have some letters to type up,” she replied.

“I take mine black with three sugars,” Flynn said as if she hadn’t spoken. “Thanks.”

If Kerri’s nose wrinkled up any further, it would become inverted and she would become her own version of Miss Piggy.

“She’ll hate you for this,” I hissed in a whisper and Flynn shrugged. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’d annoyed my secretary.

Three clients later, and Kerri announced my last client for the day had arrived. The woman was stunningly beautiful like a delicate doll with her make-up enhancing her eyes and lips. Her cheekbones were accentuated and her long black hair was swept over one shoulder in a thick plait. Her eyes were vacant and her smile fake. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Jones.” I stood and held my hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Flynn stiffened at my side, his arm moving in front of me to push me back. “I’m sorry, you look familiar. Do I know you?”

Her head tilted slightly to the left. “I don’t believe so. I am here to see Miss Davenport.”

“I’m her assistant today, so I’ll be sitting in on the meeting.” Flynn gave her a devastating smile, but it lacked emotion and the entire situation began to feel off.

“My divorce is a private matter,” Mrs. Jones continued.

“My staff have all signed confidentiality clauses, and Flynn is here to take notes and assist me.” I tended to make my mind up about clients on a first impression. This interchange convinced me that I wouldn’t be taking her as a client. I needed to connect with the people I worked with, as it inspired me to do my best for them.

“Of course.” She smiled benignly and sat in the chair opposite us, setting her handbag on the table.

“Since this is your first appointment, why don’t you tell me what I can do for you?” Some women walked into this conference room filled with rage, others heartbroken because it was never easy to end a marriage. Both sides had started off with love or affection and the termination of it reminded me of a death, whether it be the death of the image of what their life should have been like, or the death of their love.

“I am here for a divorce.”

“That’s good since I’m a divorce solicitor. What I meant was why are you applying for a divorce? Under what grounds?”

“I do not want to be married anymore.”

Flynn and I shared an uneasy look.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones, but I’m afraid my diary is booked out for the next six months. My secretary will slot you in with one of the other solicitors in our firm.” That was my get-out-of-jail-free card. Kerri could deal with her since she was creeping me out.

She blinked once. “That is not acceptable. I was told to make an appointment with Miss Davenport.”

---