“No, I’ve been divorced for seven years.”
I frown. “You’ve already been through the settlement?”
“Yes.” She clutches her handbag on her lap. “But I feel that I was wrongly represented.”
“I see.” I get out my paper and pen to take notes. “Tell me a little about what you would like to achieve.”
She straightens her back as if steeling herself. “I want the dog.”
My eyes hold hers as I get an off feeling. “Okay...” I say wearily, writing my first note. “Are there any children involved?”
“No.”
“And did you ask for the dog in the first settlement? What’s the dog’s name?”
“I didn’t at the time, although I have mentioned it over the years. His name is Bentley.”
“And what kind of dog is it?”
She shrugs as if uninterested. “A Labrador.”
“And how old is Bentley?”
“No idea but fucking old.”
I’m really trying to understand what I’m dealing with here. “And what were the terms of the initial agreement?”
“Well, my ex-husband completely ripped me off. He paid for the best lawyer’s money could buy so I had no chance. He has money.” She dusts something invisible off her shirt.
“What did you receive?”
“I got the house.”
I make more notes. “And how much was that worth?”
“Six million at the time. I got two of the cars, including a Porsche and a Maserati.”
I try to keep a straight face as I take the notes.
“I got the holiday house in Italy, too,” she says.
I scribble some more. This guy must be loaded.
“What did he request in the settlement?” I ask.
“The dog.”
My eyes rise to meet hers. “Bentley,” I correct her.
“Yes.” She crosses her legs with attitude. “He got nasty.”
“How many other…” I pause, trying to get my wording right. “I mean, what else did he own at the time?”
“Nothing.”
“You got everything?”
“Yes, but he got nasty.”
“How so?”
“I had an affair.”
My eyes rise to meet hers. I hate this bitch. “And was it a one-time thing?”
“No, it went on for a few months. It was with our gardener, and it was my ex-husband’s fault, anyway. He was always away working, and I had needs.”
My stomach twists as my own history rears its ugly head.
I scribble down my thoughts. “And you said he got nasty. Can you tell me how so?”
“In order for me to get any assets, he demanded that I change my surname.”
I frown. That’s a weird request.
“I wasn’t legally allowed to have his surname. Like, who the hell does he think he is?”
I bite my lip to hide my smirk. “I see. So, his only requests were that he wanted the removal of his surname and the custody of Bentley.”
“Yes.”
My eyes rise to meet hers. “What’s changed, Helena? Why do you want to rehash this when you clearly did so well from the first settlement?”
“He’s doing very well now, and I feel…”—she hunches her shoulders —“I deserve more.”
“You want the dog?’
“God, no, I don’t want the stupid dog. The dog is my only bargaining tool.”
Spiteful bitch.
“I see.” I want to tell her to get the hell out of my office. “Has your ex-husband remarried?”
“You’ve got to be joking.” She huffs. “He’s pathetic.”
I run my tongue over my bottom lip as I stare at her. I really don’t like this woman. “He doesn’t even date. Oh…” She laughs as if remembering something. “There was that one time about a year after we separated, where he fell in love with a prostitute… but she was also sleeping with his son.”
I begin to hear white noise ringing in my ears.
No, it can’t be?
“What kind of an idiot would fall in love with a prostitute?” She smirks.
“Who told you that?”
“Told me what?”
“That he fell in love with the prostitute?”
“His sister and my sister are still friends. It was a big family break-up. Apparently, the son and my ex-husband were both in love with her at the same time.” She flicks her hair. “The son didn’t speak to him for months when he found out. What a joke. At least I was only sleeping with one other man. He should have stuck with me.”
I stare at her. “What’s his name?’
“Who, the son?”
“Your ex-husband. What was his name?”
“Sebastian Garcia.”
11
April
I stare at her. “Pardon?” I mean, I heard it… but surely not. “His name is Sebastian Garcia?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“No,” I say too quickly.
“Of course, you do. The politician. He’s the new Deputy Prime Minister. Everyone knows him.”
Relief fills me as I realize how this looks, I should know him. “Oh, yes, I see. I knew the name sounded familiar.”
My thoughts flash back to our fight in the cloak room the other night, and I have to force it from my mind.
“So, what do you think?” Helena asks.
“About?”
“The dog,” she snaps, exasperated.
I sit back, and I hate to admit it, but I really don’t like this woman. “Helena… let me ask you something: why do you want Bentley?”
“I’m entitled to more of his estate.”
“But you already got everything.”
“He has much more now.”
“But you’re not married to him now.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
I begin to lose my patience with her. “Helena, there isn’t a judge on Earth that would grant you more of an estate that you have already settled on.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” She stands in huff and throws her handbag around her shoulder. “Goodbye, Miss Bennet. I wish I could say that you’ve been helpful.” She stomps toward the door. “But that would be a complete lie, wouldn’t it? I don’t appreciate you wasting my time.”
She disappears through the door, and it slams hard on her release.
God.
What a fucking bitch.
I pull up the records she submitted when she booked her appointment. I can’t believe he married a witch like her. What the hell was Sebastian thinking?
Actually, who am I to talk?
I married an asshole, too.
I go back through the notes and search for the date of the last settlement.
February. Seven years ago.
I work out the dates, that was just over twelve months before he met me. I scan the file until I get their marriage and separation details. They were married for five years until he discovered that she was having an affair with the gardener. I exhale heavily, knowing too well how that feels.
I wonder if he walked in on them doing the deed like I did.