Every reasonable bone in my body is telling me to say no. But I'm so tired of being sensible. Being sensible is what made me almost believe Todd when he told me I was crazy.
"One drink," I say. "And if you try anything, I have a predictive-analytics engine and a mean sense of vengeance, and I am not afraid to start a second spreadsheet."
He grins. "I'll keep my hands to myself."
He was honest about at least one thing: His office is close.
But when we're halfway across the street, I stop in my tracks, and my jaw drops.
Because there's a name etched into the marble above the entrance, in big, silver letters.
THE AKOV FIRM.
I blink to be sure, but there's no mistaking it. I've seen those words before. Not on this building, but on a document. A retainer agreement, DocuSign-stamped, sitting in a folder on my laptop markedReceipts.
Todd's lawyer.
The Akov Firm.
I turn around so fast I nearly twist my ankle in my own shoes. "This isyourfirm."
He's stopped, too, a step behind me. "It is."
"The Akov Firm," I say in disbelief. "You're Todd's lawyer."
It's not guilt I see on his face. More like he expected this and was just waiting for me to get there.
"I am not Todd's lawyer," he corrects. "Not anymore."
"But you were." I'm suddenly trembling with rage. That's strange—when I looked Todd in the eye, all I felt was a calm, cooliciness. But this man has mehot."You took his case. You're the one he hired to ruin me."
"Yes," he says simply. "He came to my office. He threw a stack of hundreds on my desk and told me he wanted you to get nothing. Not the house. Not the cars. Not the children. Nothing."
"And you said yes," I spit. "You…"
I stop. I have to breathe. People are moving past us on the sidewalk, glancing, walking faster to stay well clear of the crazy woman about to lose her shit in the middle of the city. I lower my voice and hiss, "I just blew up my whole life upstairs to get away from men like him. And you're worse. You're the man hehired.You're the one who was actually going to do it. And you have the nerve to follow me down here and ask me for a drink?"
"Let me explain," he says.
"There's nothing to explain!"
"I assure you there is." His voice stays level, but there's an edge under it now, the same edge I heard at the bar when he talked about the fool who came into his office. Todd, I'm now realizing, was that fool. "Will you give me thirty seconds?"
I cross my arms. I don't say yes. But I don't walk away, either.
He takes that as permission.
"Your husband came to me through a partner of mine," he says. "As a favor. I almost didn't take the meeting. When I did, I expected a simple, if dirty case. Instead, I got a man who wanted to rip everything from his wife, and his children from their mother, because—" His jaw tightens. "—because she 'let herself go.' Because she 'stopped trying.' He said it wasn't 'fair' to him that he couldn't bring a pretty wife to dinner."
I feel my face go hot. Hearing Todd's words come out of this man's mouth is its own kind of awful.
"I told him all the reasons why what he was asking for was wrong and impossible," he goes on. "But I think you know the kind of man you married, don't you? So you won't be surprised when I tell you that his response was to poke the pile of cash and say that my job was to make all those details not matter. He just wanted the knife in your back and he didn't care how it got there."
"And you said yes," I repeat.
He shrugs. "If I didn't, he'd walk out my door and into the office of some slick associate three blocks over who'd do it without a second thought. At least with me, I could ensure that the case went nowhere. I sat on it. I did nothing. I pocketed his retainer and let it rot." He grinds his teeth. "I was going to fire him today. That's why I was in your husband's building this morning. I wanted the satisfaction of looking him in the eye and telling him to go to fucking hell."
I stare at him. I don't know whether to believe a word of this. But he just doesn't seem like the man who'd lie about something so important. Shockingly for a lawyer, he seemsethical.