CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ERIC
Six in the evening rolls around. I reach into my office mini fridge and pull out a beer. At the rate Sophie stacks paper on my desk, I’m going to be here all night. I’ve been working on my other cases consistently until the last few weeks and catching up will kill me.
David has required extra babysitting. He’s been caught sneaking around Los Angeles again and I’m about to really have the asshole put under house arrest so I don’t have a heart attack from his bullshit.
I down the beer and pick up a file to review. It’s not all celebrities in my office, mostly business executives or people with daddy’s money making a marriage go away. Like it’s no big deal. Like those papers they signed and the promises they made before whatever deity they chose were meaningless.
I hate everything about marriage. It’s not sacred, it’s a billion-dollar industry. Everything from the reception to the divorce is covered in price tag stickers, and I am no exception. Hell, most people use me as a pawn in their manipulative bullshit.
As long as they pay, they can use me however they want. I’ll just sit here, silently, and grow an ulcer and loathe everything about the institution.
For one tiny, fleeting moment, Kate crosses my mind. I immediately punt it back down to the depths, because that is insanity. We had a great date. We had a great second date. But we also have a very complicated situation.
And I’m more than a little freaked I’ve started to grow weirdass feelings that violate all my core beliefs because she makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Three beers in and I’ve finally caught up on the Williamses case. Their assets are a lot simpler, but there is a kid involved. Those are my least favorite cases and I still don’t understand how I got stuck with this shit. I don’t like how people treat kids as pawns in divorces.
I didn’t always hate humanity. Once, years ago, I liked people. I wanted to help. I went to law school. And then I met the gritty underside to humanity and wanted to watch the sky burn.
“I knew you’d still be here.” Paxton and Geoff waltz into my office. Paxton holds out a hand. “Beer me.”
I toss them both one and close the Williamses file. Reading about their custody squabbles was going to ruin my evening, so I can use the break.
“What are you assholes still doing here?”
“Same as you.” Geoff adjusts his clear lens glasses. “Pax decided we all needed a breather.”
“What we need to do is order a fuckton of shitty Chinese and pile in one of the conference rooms. I hate staying here this damn late. Makes me think work owns my soul.” Paxton scowls.
“Welcome to being an attorney.”
“Shut up, Geoff.”
“I could order some Chinese. It’s my turn, anyway.” Geoff offers. It always amazes me how unfazed he is by the verbal abuse he endures from us daily… and then he turns around and buys dinner. “I’ll grab the menus from the break room.”
Paxton watches Geoff walk out and turns on me. “What are you doing with those pictures?”
“What pictures?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. We all know what fucking pictures. The pictures you’re probably jacking off to in here every day or whatever stupid shit because you can’t nut up and handle your case like a big boy.”
“Fuck you.” I crack open another beer to steady my hands. “I’ve got like thirty cases running right now. Thirty in-depth cases that are being railroaded over by a glutton in cheap sunglasses. I’m working on it.”
“Are you? Who have you talked to about leaking the pictures?”
“I’m taking offers right now.” I lie smoothly. “I want them in the best hands. This case is bigger than the others and requires a monsoon, not just a splash.”
“Right.” Paxton crosses his arm and narrows his eyes. “I feel like a broken record around you.”
“How so?”
“Because I’m calling bullshit again.”
“Fuck off, Pax. I’ve got my people working on it while I’m getting my ass back together for these other cases. Don Williams is now leaving messages every day because he’s unhappy with how little attention he’s getting. Vivica Gattis is doing the same goddamn thing. I’m drowning in unhappy assholes right now, so cut me some slack.”
“This is what you get for sticking your dick where it doesn’t belong.”
“Oh, fuck off. I’ve slept with plenty of clients’ exes. You love to brag about that shit to all your friends back home, so don’t act so goddamn high and mighty about it now.”
“Sure, but those are always one-time events. Those are salutes to a job well done. You’re an asshole for it, but they end, Eric. How long have you been fucking with Kate now? A month? More?”
“I’ve only slept with her a few times.” I snap. “It’s not like I’m fucking her every day, okay? It’s a casual thing.”
“Quit lying to yourself or you’ll fuck your whole case.” Paxton rolls his eyes. “Do you know what David McArthur will do to you when he finds out you’ve been banging his wife? He’ll kill you.”
“He can’t touch me. That dude is all hot air. If he tries to bail on payment, I’ll just sue him. He’s so tied up in contracts he won’t be able to piss without paying me. I’ll be fine. Lay off my ass, Pax. I’m tired of your shit.”
“Tired of my shit?” Paxton’s whole tone changes. For the first time in all these tireless exchanges, he looks genuinely angry. “I’m watching you sit back and fuck over not one, but three people with this dumbass stunt of yours. Do you really not give a shit about anyone besides yourself?”
“What the fuck does that mean? If she didn’t want to fuck me, she wouldn’t fuck me. Don’t project your shitty singlehood onto me.”
“That’s rich.” Paxton snorts. “At least I’m not fucking a poor, confused woman who is dealing with her ex-husband who is trying to rob her blind.”
“You’re the asshole telling me to fuck her over with these pictures!”
“It’s like you can’t even see what’s in front of your own goddamn face.” Paxton storms out and catches Geoff at the door. “Come on, we’ll go get our own Chinese. Eric needs some time to sit and think about what he’s done.”
“Dead to me, Pax.”
“I’m not dicking around, Eric.”
The door slams behind them, leaving the office very quiet very suddenly. I hurl a pen across the room and try to convince myself it’s all bullshit anyway, but I’m just left in a twisted mess. Whatever truth there was to Paxton’s words, I don’t want to hear it.
I yank out the staged photos and flip through them again, watching Kate’s face the entire time. She doesn’t look like a poor, confused woman. She laughs and smiles with me. We’re happy together, which is more than I can say about being here.
I throw them on the desk, lock my office and head to the gym. I need to clear my head.