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Quinn waved and sat back heavily in her chair. Mara and Clint were so happy together, in a healthy, normal marriage. Was it too much to ask for the same? Not every relationship out there was the abusive nightmare she had with Travis.
She just needed to convince herself that she deserved better than Travis— that she was good enough for someone to love. Until then, she was better off alone, no matter what her heart was saying.
The cab dropped Quinn off in front of a five-story brick office building in the heart of Atlanta’s Midtown. She hurried inside after realizing she would be late for her meeting with the lawyer managing her father’s estate. Fifteen minutes later, Quinn was being ushered into an upscale office. The polished wood bookcases that lined the walls were overflowing with large legal books of all shapes and sizes and smelled like the inside of a library.
The man behind the desk came around to meet her next to a sizeable conference table near the door. It was littered with stacks of files, though all were neatly arranged.
“Mrs. Hardy, good to finally meet you in person.”
Quinn flinched at the lawyer’s use of Travis’s last name.
“It’s Miss Wallace now. Good to see you too, Mr. Wheeler.”
“Call me John, please.” The forty-something year old man with dark eyes and lightly greying hair smiled at Quinn, gesturing for her to take a seat at the large conference table.
“Then call me Quinn. Thank you, John.”
He pulled a manila file from the top of one of the stacks and opened it. She couldn’t see much, but she did catch a glimpse of her father’s address listed at the top of the first page.
“Well, let’s get down to business, Quinn, since the trust is paying a considerable hourly fee for us to meet on a Saturday. Shall we?” John winked, unbuttoning the jacket of his very expensive looking suit.
Quinn nodded in agreement.
“Good. Good. So, you went through the contents of your father’s residence, correct?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Great. The realtor will have it on the market by next Friday at the latest. That gives the painters and maintenance workers a few days to spruce the place up.”
“Okay.”
John shuffled through a few papers, pulling a small pile out. “The trust is available for you to access immediately, which I see you already did.” He flipped through the pages, skimming them briefly as he spoke.
“I needed a phone. And money for gas.” Quinn felt her neck grow hot. It was humiliating to have to justify purchases made with her own money. It made her feel like she did when Travis controlled everything… weak and helpless.
What Travis hadn’t known, however, was that she made out the check to the grocery store ten dollars above the transaction amount every week, allowing her to save a significant amount of money over the two years they were married. He checked everything to keep her trapped, dotted every i and crossed every t, but he never thought to check her weekly grocery receipt.
Quinn made a fist with her right hand and shoved it under the table, her fingertips digging into her scar.
John reached over and patted her upper arm comfortingly. “Don’t worry about how you spent it, Quinn. It’s your money. Your father put no stipulations on the trust. It belongs to you.”
She exhaled in relief that he wasn’t judging or chastising her. “Thank you, John. This is just so… strange for me. To have money, I mean.”
The lawyer smiled. “I do this all the time, so if you have any questions please ask.”
“Okay.” Quinn shoved her other hand under the table as it began to shake. “I—I do have a question.”
John looked at Quinn intently, waiting for her to continue.
“I have a husband. An ex, actually. We’re… separated. I don’t want him to get any of my father’s money and I don’t want him to know about it. Is—is that legal?”
The lawyer kept his expression neutral, but Quinn saw a flash of pity in his dark eyes. “Perfectly legal, Quinn. Spouses have no claims on inheritances unless you put the money into a joint account. I take it you won’t be doing that?”
“No. And I want it to stay in my maiden name. I’ll be taking my name back legally and dropping my first name in favor of my middle. Also, I want to file for divorce. Do you do that?”
Quinn shoved her hands underneath her thighs to stop the trembling after letting everything spill out of her mouth at once. She didn’t want John to see how weak and unnerved she was to discuss Travis, but damn it felt good to say it all out loud.
“I don’t handle divorces, but my colleague, Linda, does. I can give you her card and have her call you.” John’s dark gaze caught Quinn and she swore he could see right through her, that he knew what Travis had been doing to her while they were married. She didn’t know how, but he knew. John winked again, lightening the mood. “She’s very good. Linda’s been compared to a bulldog in high heels.”
