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“Sounds like you have zero self-control.”
“Pretty much,” she says. “But only when I’m writing. When I’m not writing, I’m a pretty average, boring person.”
“I doubt that.”
“Okay, fine. Slightly less neurotic, slightly less manic, a little more in the driver’s seat.”
“Everything go well with Mike?” I ask. “What’d you think of him?”
“Yeah.” Her brows lift. “He’s great. Very knowledgeable … said he’s taken on similar cases to mine in the past …”
“Did he say if he’d take you on?”
“He said he would.”
I exhale. “Good, good.”
“He also told me that you were one of his best students,” she says. “And that you told him you couldn’t represent me due to a conflict of interest …”
“I didn’t want my representation of you to be biased in any way. The court tends to frown on that sort of thing.”
“I see,” she says. “Regardless, thank you. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me lately.”
I nod. “Sure.”
“I should get out of your hair … just wanted to drop off Ida’s thank you cookies …” She glances at the door, though her high-heels remain planted. “Stone?”
“Yes?”
“I’m really glad our paths crossed again.”
“Can you please tell me why you terminated my client’s relationship—” Becca storms through the door, stopping in her tracks when she spots Jovie. Tugging her Oxford top into place, she clears her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were with someone.”
It’s Becca’s first day back in weeks, and judging by the wild-eyed expression on her twisted face, I take it she just read my email about Jason.
“Becca, this is Jovie Vincent, a longtime acquaintance of mine,” I say. “Jovie, this is Becca Ratliff, a junior partner here at the firm. Jovie here is divorcing the client I terminated.”
Becca’s gaze skims from me to Jovie before returning.
“I wish you’d have consulted with me before the termination,” she speaks says, ignoring Jovie. Her arms fold tight across her chest. “A little professional courtesy would go a long way.”
“You were away,” I say. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were sunbathing and sipping fruity drinks in St. Croix.”
I saw her Instagram while she was gone—and the series of thirst trap photos she posted showcasing what a wonderful time she was having with her girlfriends. While the captions were definitely directed at me, I found nothing but amusement in them. They were desperate, unoriginal, and had the opposite of the intended effect she was going for.
If anything, they only cemented my decision to cut things off.
Becca’s Pilates body and book smarts are unfortunately overshadowed by the fact that she’s as basic as they come.
“Forgive me for taking a long overdue vacation,” Becca says, her words curt and snipping. “Some of us have actual lives outside the office. Not everyone can be married to their job.”
To which I say, “To each their own.”
“Anyway.” Becca unfolds her arms, glancing at Jovie, who’s staring at the floor like an innocent bystander caught in our crosshairs. “I’d like a minute with you alone at some point this afternoon so we can finish this discussion.”
“I’ll pencil you in,” I say without so much as making a move toward my calendar.
With that, Becca’s gone, leaving nothing but a trail of her department store perfume—the same one she used to spray between her legs before our little entanglements. Knowing her, I can only assume that move was intentional.
“Sorry about that,” I tell Jovie.
“Do you and your partners always talk like that?” she asks.
“No. Becca’s been a little … contentious … lately.” I check the time on my phone. I’m due across town in thirty minutes to meet with a current client over lunch at a restaurant she owns. A restaurant stuck in limbo due to a bitter and costly divorce battle. Unfortunately when married couples undertake a joint business effort, division of assets can get tricky. That’s why it’s imperative that Jovie has the best representation when Jason tries to claim royalties from the book she penned during their time together. There’s no hard and fast rules here. It’ll boil down to who can present the most compelling argument. Things could get particularly dicey if Jason attempts to say he inspired the book—or worse, that he helped write it. It would be his word against hers and given my brief interaction with him the other day, he doesn’t appear to be beneath lying.
“Maybe I was reading between the lines, but I get the hunch that it’s not the client she’s most upset about.” Jovie winces. “That was a lot of animosity packed into a short amount of time.”
I laugh through my nose. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
“Is that … her?” Jovie’s voice is low and her chin is tucked. “The woman you’re in love with?”
I almost choke on my spit. “No. Not even close.”
Becca pales in comparison to Jovie in every way imaginable.
