Page 13 of Almost Paradise

It’s my turn to stand up at those accusations. Now, I know I’m wrong about Nia. A proxy? What the hell is she playing at? “Ms. Nash, I don’t know what fantasy world your client lives in, but that crock of bull never happened. I came here in good faith. I could have had two dozen lawyers on this weeks ago. I’ve reached the end of my patience. If your client wants a fight, I guarantee you, I’m ready. One thing I never, ever do is lose. Remind her of that. If she won’t give me access to my son, I’ll take it, and I promise you she will not like the results.”

Wyatt puts a hand to his forehead and shakes his head at me.

“So much for good faith,” Audrey says.

I decide if Nia’s not going to engage, I’m not going to waste my time on this two-bit lawyer. I stand and grab my cashmere coat from the back of my chair.

“Mr. Paradise, someone is lying, but it’s not Ms. Nash,” Audrey says.

“Which Ms. Nash? You or your client?” I’ve never seen Wyatt grin so hard, and I fail to find just what the hell is funny in this situation. “Maybe I should just call you Audrey to clear up any confusion.”

I make a mental note to fire him once we get out of here. Audrey doesn’t return his smile though. In fact, she looks away from him and rummages through a stack of papers.

“Mr. Paradise, please sit, and I will go get my client.” Wyatt, for some reason, stands when Audrey stands. She pushes her glasses back while she eyes him up and down before walking away. He cranes his neck until she’s out of sight.

“First of all, you need to chill. You’re too intense,” he whispers.

“You’re being unprofessional,” I whisper back.

“I’m not here on a professional basis. I’m here to keep you from losing your shit and going all Paradise.” He plops himself back on his chair, and I do the same.

They don’t come back for another ten minutes. Nia still won’t look at me, but I can see that her eyes are now red. I’d think she was crying if she wasn’t made of stone.

Audrey sits back down and hands Wyatt a sheet of paper. He picks it up and scans it. He grimaces at whatever he’s reading.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It looks like a printout of text messages between yourself and Nia,” he says.

“Please refer to my client as Ms. Nash,” Audrey says.

“What can I call you?” he asks.

“Ms. Nash,” she says.

“Let’s just be Wyatt and Audrey,” he counters. Instead of punching him like I want, I snatch the paper from him.

Nia:Why haven’t you returned my calls or emails? We need to talk.

Drake:We are over. Stop messaging me.

Nia: But I told you I’m pregnant.

Drake:That’s pathetic even for you.

Nia: You think I would make something like this up?

Drake: I think you’re looking for money. I would never want a child with you. I only wanted to fuck you. I was curious. Not so much anymore. Leave me alone or I’ll ruin your life.

Nia: Asshole.

“This is bullshit. I never said that, and I never would. I don’t even like to use the F word.” I slide the paper across the table and look at Nia. She won’t look at me. Of course, she won’t. She knows I won’t believe her lies. “Did you type this out yourself?”

“Please do not address my client,” Audrey says.

“This is ridiculous! After what we shared, you throw this at me, Nia? I would never say anything like that. I spent almost every night with you, and you think I was only trying to get in your pants? Really?”

She looks into my face. She stands again, and I expect her to storm out of the room like she did the last time, but she doesn’t. She pulls out her phone and hands it to me. It’s the exchange that was typed out.

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