Blair was usually good at weeding through the bullshit and figuring out the underlying reasons a woman was filing for divorce, but every time she tried to figure out what made Allison tick, she hit a wall. Surely Allison couldn’t be that shallow. Then again, her parents had taught her to enjoy all the finer things in life. They had doted on her every moment of her life and she had never lived without them.
Maybe Allison was that shallow. “I’m not asking why divorce happens. I’m asking why you want a divorce, Allison.”
Anger filled Allison’s eyes. “It shouldn’t matter to you why I’m getting divorced, only that I am. Can’t you handle the simple job of dividing my assets? I thought you were supposed to be good.”
Blair’s back stiffened. “I charge by the hour, Ms. DeSanto, so if you want to drag this thing on forever, be my guest. But believe it or not, there are women out there with real issues. After thirty years of marriage, their husbands have left them for newer versions and want to leave these women absolutely nothing. Or you might have a woman with two kids whose husband beat her, yet he’s put everything in his own name, leaving her with absolutely no money or resources to escape.”
Allison looked straight ahead, her chin quivering.
Blair tapped her nail on the table, studying her client. “I’ll continue this settlement meeting, but I need to know what you want.”
“I want everything.”
“Given that there’s no proof he cheated on you or harmed you in any way, that’s not realistic or fair to him. You’ll need to be more specific about the things you want.”
“I want the house.”
“Then you have to give up an amount of assets equal to his half of the house, and frankly, I’m not sure there are enough assets to cover it.”
“Then make it happen.”
Blair groaned. This was going to be a long day.
She stood and opened the door, then walked into the client lounge. “I think we’re ready to continue.”
“Is she willing to negotiate with my client?” Dane asked.
Marco crossed his arms in a show of nonchalance, though his face betrayed his anxiety, and Dane flashed him an arrogant smile, signaling his premature confidence.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
But an hour later, they’d made little progress.
As Allison hemmed and hawed over who got the dining room furniture—piece by piece, down to the furniture polish—Blair looked out the glass conference room wall and was relieved to discover her friend Megan standing by the door. Megan gave her a wave, then gestured toward Blair’s office.
Blair nodded and looked at her phone. “It’s one o’clock. If we want to continue with this, I think we should take a lunch break.”
Dane rolled his shoulders and sighed. “I was hoping to wrap this up sooner rather than later.”
Blair glanced at her petulant client. “I think most of us were.”
Allison scrunched up her nose. “I think we should keep going.”
“Some of us actually like to eat,” Marco said with a bitter tone. “I might even go out for a heaping plate of spaghetti.”
Allison put her hand on the table and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“We never ate carbs when we were together. I’ve been eating them every day since the day I left.”
Allison stood and glared down at him. “I never told you that you couldn’t eat carbs, Marco! I was the one who couldn’t eat carbs!”
He stood and shouted, “I never said you couldn’t eat carbs! What made you think you couldn’t eat them?”
“Because they put five pounds on my hips! Last summer you told me those white shorts made me look hippy.” She shook her head, her face turning red. “You can go eat all the spaghetti in Italy for all I care.” Then she stomped toward the door.
“Two o’clock?” Blair asked Dane.
He gave a sharp nod, then looked up at his client for acknowledgment, but Marco’s gaze followed Allison down the hall.
“Did you really tell her that her shorts made her look hippy?” Blair asked before she could stop herself. Talk about unprofessional.
“Yeah…I guess.” He looked confused. “But she’d asked.”
Blair tried to stifle her groan. Men.
She hurried down the hall and found Allison by the exit. She glanced back at Blair with a tear-streaked face.
“We’ll start again at two,” Blair said, then lowered her voice. “Did he talk to you like that throughout your marriage?”
Allison looked confused. “Like what?”
“Did he make references to your weight?”
Allison’s chin quivered. “I don’t know, Blair. I don’t know. Leave me alone.”
She spun around and walked toward the staircase, bypassing the elevator.
Maybe there was more to this divorce than Blair realized.
She passed Dane and his client on their way out, then found Megan sitting on the edge of Melissa’s desk.
“Blair.” Megan stood and offered her a bright smile. “We haven’t seen each other since we were in New York for Libby’s photography exhibit, yet we only live like five miles apart. We need to see each other more often.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Well, I’m here now, and I’m starving. Where are we eating?”
Blair gestured toward Megan’s stomach. “You’re the one who’s pregnant. Are you craving anything?”
It was still hard for Blair to think of her practically lifelong friend as pregnant—either of her friends. They’d both announced their pregnancies at Libby’s exhibit weeks before.
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Bacon cheeseburgers.”
“Your baby’s into junk food? Already? I thought they saved that for the teen years.”
Megan laughed. “Don’t judge. Just feed me.”
“There’s a place around the corner that will take care of your craving.” Blair shot a glance to Melissa. “Would you like to come?”
“We’d love to have you,” Megan said.
Melissa smiled. “Thanks for the invite, but I have too much work to do. I’d love a rain check, though.”
Blair started to protest, but Melissa shook her head. “You two go. You need this.”
Megan gave Melissa a wave as she and Blair walked out of her office and toward the hallway.
“So other than your cravings for high-fat red meat, how else are you feeling?” Blair asked, grinning.
“Remarkably good. No morning sickness at all.”
“I hear the same can’t be said for Libby,” Blair said. “I called her a few nights ago, and Noah said she couldn’t even come to the phone.”
Megan grimaced. “She’s been really sick. Noah had to take her to the hospital for dehydration.”
Blair stopped in front of the elevator and hit the down button, worry washing over her. “Is she okay? Why didn’t she tell me?”
“If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t tell me either. Josh found out about it when he and Noah were talking about some business project in Seattle. It’s pretty bad when you find out your best friend had to go to the ER from your husband, who found out after he talked to his brother. These guys are notorious for withholding information, but I hardly expected it from Libby.”