Page 61 of Everest

My face softens. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Harrison.”

Mr. Harrison continues, “I don’t wish to go after her for alimony. I seek a clean break. The only problem is I know she will likely fight the divorce and, at the very least, try to get her hands on as much of my money as possible.”

I stop typing and look up from my computer. “So, no splitting of the assets? You want to leave her with nothing?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

“She can leave with what she came into the marriage with… nothing,” Mr. Harrison states without a shred of emotion.

“So, you feel your wife will contest the divorce?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you and your wife been married?” I ask.

“Twelve years.”

“Any children?”

Mr. Harrison shakes his head. “No children.”

I nod and put that in my notes. “Do you have any joint accounts or property with your wife?”

“No. She doesn’t work, and everything is in my name.”

“What are your thoughts on spousal support?”

“Absolutely not. My wife doesn’t get a dime.”

It’s not uncommon for people to disassociate from their emotions as they go through a divorce, especially after finding out a spouse has cheated, but there is something—I don’t know—offabout Mr. Harrison. I’ve heard stories like his more times than I can count. They are a dime a dozen. But the man in front of me is talking about his marriage and his wife cheating like he’s reading from a script.

“You mentioned something about a private investigator before. I’m assuming you can provide proof of your wife’s affair.”

Before he replies, Mr. Harrison studies me for a long time, almost to the point of making me uncomfortable. “That is correct.”

Ignoring his odd behavior, I push forward. “If you wish to proceed with my services, I’ll need to see the evidence in question.”

“I’ll bring everything you need soon, Ms. Monroe. I look forward to handling this unfortunate matter as soon as possible. For all involved.”

Something about the way Mr. Harrison says that last part doesn’t bode well with me.

Thankfully, Zara chooses that moment to interrupt. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a call on line two. They say it’s urgent.”

“Thank you, Zara.” I stand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harrison. I’ll have to take this.”

Mr. Harrison follows suit by pushing his chair back. “Not a problem, Ms. Monroe. I must be going anyway.”

“If you wouldn’t mind leaving your contact information with my assistant, I’ll be in touch soon to discuss how you’d like to proceed and what I’ll need from you.”

“Of course. I’ll be sure to do that.” Mr. Harrison places his hand on the small of my back as I lead him out of the conference room. His touch sends shivers down my spine, and not the good kind.

He reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card printed with his name and number. Without another word, he strolls down the hall, hands firmly placed in his suit pants. He doesn’t spare Zara a glance before he exits the building.

“Hey. You okay?” Promise steps out into the hallway.

Shaking my head, I decide all the drama that’s been wreaking havoc on my life lately has me on edge and overthinking everything. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Then I remember the phone call waiting for me. “Shoot.” I snap my fingers. “I have a call waiting.” I rush into my office and snatch the receiver from the landline on my desk, but when I put the phone to my ear, all I get is dial tone.

By seven in the evening, I’m bone tired and ready to get back to the clubhouse. All I want is a glass of wine and a hot shower. Promise left a couple of hours ago when Nova came to pickher up, and Zara left shortly after. I stayed behind to meet with Missy Tyler, a single mother who is currently in a nasty custody battle with her ex-husband. Missy works full-time and has an asshole boss who won’t allow her time off work, so on the days I meet with her, I extend my own hours to accommodate her schedule. Raised by a single mother, I know firsthand how difficult it is to juggle work and life.

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