“I’m just making sure you stick to it.” He stands and smiles, like he hasn’t just tossed his own flesh and blood aside.
Looking at him now makes me sick. What did I ever see him in? He’s a sorry excuse of a man, and I almost pity Ingrid. Or maybe she’ll school him, and he’ll finally get what’s coming to him. I can only hope he does.
“Goodbye, Curtis.” I stride to the door, pausing with my fingers curled around the door handle. I glance over my shoulder, looking at him for the final time, feeling nothing but relief our relationship is ending. I murmur under my breath, too low for him to hear. “One day, you’re going to regret how easily you gave up your kids. I hope she’s worth it.”
Without wasting another second of my time or any further thoughts on this man, I walk out of his life for good.
After I leave Curtis, I head to my attorney’s office to sign the modified divorce paperwork, feeling relieved to have that part concluded. Then I drive to Bentley Law and park in the employee parking lot for the last time. I expected to feel a little sad as I make my way up in the elevator for my meeting with the VP of HR, but I’m experiencing none of those emotions. I veer between elation at finally taking back control of my life and desolation at the prospect of what I’ll need to do later, praying I’m strong enough to see this through.
I exit Paul Cummings’ office immediately after tendering my resignation, smothering a smile at the look of outrage on the HR VP’s face when I refused to work the period of my two weeks’ notice and told him he’d be paying me for it along with the bonus I’m due and the paid vacation and sick time owed me. I also requested a letter of recommendation and demanded a letter confirming the noncompete clause in my contract is null and void as long as I don’t work for any legal firms in Colorado.
I have no intention of returning to Colorado, and I’ll need that letter to work in Lynette’s legal practice when I move to Oregon. I’m so glad I arranged to meet my old high-school pal the last time she was back home and that Lynette had jokingly tried to convince me to move to Portland and work for her. When I called her last night, she didn’t hesitate to offer me a job along with her assistance in finding an apartment to rent temporarily while I house hunt.
I’ll work on closing out all open assignments and documenting a file with instructions for my replacement from home while I pack up my house. I resolutely refuse to spend another minute in this office, knowing Gregory Henley is down the hall. Even if my meeting with him doesn’t go as planned, there’s no way I can continue to work for Bentley Law after everything that has happened. Paul was apoplectic when I told him Leland would agree to my terms because I’m sure Greg will have no issue convincing him.
Stopping briefly outside Greg’s office, I give myself a quick, silent pep talk, reminding myself I have leverage and promising I won’t let him intimidate me. Checking to ensure my suit jacket is fully buttoned, I run a hand down over my jacket and onto my pants, smoothing out any wrinkles. I stopped in the bathroom after leaving Paul’s office to brush my hair and fix my makeup. I’m a firm believer in looking the part, and I intend to kick ass today. Without knocking, I open the door and stride inside Greg’s large, plush office.
Lifting his head, he drills me with a look as I close the door, and he hangs up the phone. “That was Paul,” he says, waving his hand at one of the vacant seats in front of his desk. “He’s seething.” He flashes me a grin as I sit down, placing my purse on my lap.
“I want my terms met,” I say, working hard to remain poised and calm, but my heart is slamming against my rib cage, and my palms are sweaty. I can barely look at Greg without remembering what he did to me last night. I almost puke every time I think about how close I came to being raped. Subtly, I grip the back of my purse and dig my nails into the soft leather. The motion helps to calm me.
“That all depends on what you’re here to tell me.” He rounds the desk, and I force myself not to cower as he approaches. “Give me your cell.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”
“I need to know you’re not recording this meeting.”
“As do I.” I arch a brow.
“You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” He chuckles, and I glare at him from under my lashes as I retrieve my cell from my purse. He truly is a sick, twisted bastard.
After we have examined each other’s phones and are satisfied our conversation isn’t being recorded, I grab my cell and my purse and stand. “Change of plans,” I say, skimming my gaze around his room. “We’ll discuss this outside on the sidewalk.” I don’t trust him not to have a camera in here, and I won’t take any chances because he could try to construe my words and turn this back around on me. I need to dig us out of this hole not burrow a bigger one.
“I don’t think so, darling.”
“I think so.” Opening up the video on my phone, I shove it in his face. “I have additional copies of this.”
To give him credit, he barely reacts. I move to swipe it from his hands, but he grabs my wrist, warning me with dark eyes not to push it. I was hoping I could wing it and pretend I had the full recording backed up to the cloud, but deep down, I knew Greg would never fall for it. Thinking about ending things with Vander tears strips off my heart, and if I could find a way to fix this without breaking both our hearts, I would.
“Fine,” he says, after watching the full recording. Even though it cuts out shortly after Curtis arrives in the room, he can see there is enough in there to warrant his concern. “We’ll talk outside.”
That rat bastard does have a camera in here!
“Leave your cell here,” I tell him as I power mine off and hold it up for him to see.
He smirks. “Perhaps you’re not as dumb as you look.”
I don’t even dignify that with a response, walking to the door without uttering a word. Grabbing his suit jacket off the back of the chair, he follows me out of his office and outside.
I stop at the corner of the building, checking there are no street cams in the vicinity.
“That recording is enough to go to the police and press charges against you for sexual assault.”
He smirks. “I’m slightly impressed, but don’t make yourself look stupid now. We both know I can make that go away.” He pulls a cigar from his inside jacket pocket and lights it up. “You go near the cops, and I’ll hang you out to dry.”
“I already know that,” I calmly reply. “Which is why I won’t go to the cops.” I stab him with a confident look even though I’m quaking on the inside. “I’ll email that to every one of your clients, upload it onto social media, and send a copy to all the major media outlets. I’ll ruin you before you’ll have a chance to stop it.”
“I’ll return the favor and some,” he replies, leveling me with a pointed look.
“Something I also know.”
“What’s your angle?”
“We both have something on the other. Only one is real, but both have the potential to hurt us, so we make a new deal.”
He puffs away on his cigar, giving little away with his expression. “Go on.”