“Come, sit,” Dad said, ushering me to the other side of the room.
He sat at the head of the table, Victor to his left, and I sank down in the seat across. I kept my face tilted to look at my dad, hoping to get out of this meeting without succumbing to the distraction of the man across from me. I didn’t even question what he was doing in there. Dad liked to have people on hand to bounce opinions off during meetings with his clients, and I was just happy to be getting the best representation I could when it came to this divorce.
“We have more papers to fill out,” Dad said.
I nodded, swallowing the small lump that threatened to form in my throat at the sound of the word. I hated so many things about this, but the failure I felt—as a wife, as a woman—was the worst.
“Have you spoken to Gabriel? After the papers were leaked to the media?”
I nodded again. “I spoke to him yesterday.”
“And what did he say? Is he ready to proceed?” Dad asked. Gabe acted like my filing came as a shock to him. It wasn’t a shock to anybody else, though, so I wasn’t sure if he was really shocked or just wanted to treat it as an out of sight, out of mind kind of thing. Dad put his hand over mine when I dropped my gaze to the table. “Honey, it’s okay. We need to talk about it.”
I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes before I spoke. I was hyper aware of Victor’s presence. I didn’t want him to see me cry, hurt, or weak. I wasn’t that girl. I’d never been that girl, but talking about this while my dad soothed me was more difficult than I could bear.
“He agreed on the motion and said he said he knew I would bail. That he knew when things got tough I’d leave him,” I whispered. “That I couldn’t deal with the reality of life.”
I flinched when Dad slapped his free hand on the wooden table and stood suddenly.
“This is why I can’t do it. I’ll choke the bastard if I see him in court. I’d choke him if I’d see him right now.”
I blinked, confused, looked at Victor, who was watching me closely and looked back at my dad. “What do you mean you can’t do this?”
“Victor’s taking this case. He’s the best I got, love,” Dad said. “It’s like having me represent you. Promise.”
Promise. I closed my eyes. He only said that when he was positive he wouldn’t let me down. When I opened my eyes, I glanced at Victor, at his chiseled jaw and hypnotizing eyes, and that soft hair I’d loved running my fingers through. I tried so hard not to recall it, not to picture our back-and-forth banter before I’d locked the door of his office, and walked around his desk, possessed with lust—with need—with a hunger that wouldn’t stop until I had him.
He must not have told my dad about us, because if he had he’d probably be looking for another firm, representing this divorce. Dad was weird about mixing work and personal life. Despite that, I knew Victor was a damn good attorney, the best, even. I had friends who’d hired him for their divorces and swore up and down by Victor Reuben. I didn’t doubt his abilities in anything. I just doubted mine in being able to get through this without messing things up for the two of us, because when it came to us, things went up in flames. Or at least they used to. Perhaps he’d moved on, judging by his indifference.
“How long will it take to get this over with?” I asked Victor.
“The process has begun and it usually takes six months. So assuming he’s on board and doesn’t give us any trouble, and if he’s not as . . . stubborn as you are, it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Dad chuckled at the mention of my stubbornness, and Victor’s eyes flickered over there, smiling briefly before meeting mine again.
“Either way, I will do everything to make sure this is as painless for you as it can be. I’ll be at your beck and call. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’m here,” he said, his eyes dipping to my mouth briefly, to the low-cut dress I wore, and back to my eyes in a way that made goosebumps rake over my flesh.
What would it be like to have this man be my beck and call? I was sure he didn’t do that often. He didn’t seem like the type. Dad’s cell phone rang, and he stood and excused himself. I looked over my shoulder to watch Dad walk out before turning back to Victor.
“What’s your deal?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, pushing off the table slightly to cross his ankle over his knee. Totally casual, as if we were about to discuss sports.
“Why’d you agree to do this?”
“Why did I agree to do my job?” he asked, looking amused. “Let’s see, there’s the fact that I like it, and then there’s the bit about those three years of law school I went through, and well, yeah, the most important part, it’s what I get paid to do.”
If I didn’t know him, or know him as much as I thought I did, I would have been upset. Instead, I sighed. “Did you tell my dad about us?”
“Us?”
“Yeah, us. You know,” I said, shooting him a look.