Rogue Divorce Lawyer

by Dale E. Manolakas

  * * *

  The Wednesday before Turkey Day, Kurt had lunch with a new prospective client who had received a subpoena from the SEC. A wealthy client, the managing partner of the Los Angeles office of a major New York investment banking house. They were ready to jump law firms and were shopping.

  The courtship lunch had gone very well. It was the kind of meeting, client, and work Kurt liked. Bringing in a client with this much excellent commercial litigation would secure his partnership vote.

  After lunch, Kurt scanned his emails. He stopped at one forwarded from Dee about the Thurston case. As he read it, he smiled with relief. It was an order staying the case, ‘pending reassignment’ and calendaring a trial setting hearing. He immediately conferenced in Dee and Jim.

  Kurt said, “Incredible news.”

  Jim agreed, “That’s it. For sure no trial December 16.”

  Dee said. “On balance, good news. More time to find witnesses and for the pressure to build on Stockton. But it will mean dumping more hours into it.”

  Kurt thought, My hours. Damn it.

  Jim jumped in to support his now-buddy Kurt. “I’ll help and we’ll put the trial off as long as possible. It’s definitely good.”

  “Thanks, Jim.”

  “You’ll be able to focus on your real billables for the end-of-year bonus and your partnership vote.”

  Dee said, “True. Go for it, Kurt.”

  Jim had just made Kurt a friend for life.

  * * *

  For once, Kurt didn’t mind calling Eliana. As he anticipated, she was elated and had a simplistic self-centered superficial view of the great reprieve Kurt had received.

  Eliana said, “Now my holidays won’t be ruined. Thank you so much, Kurt. I’ll see you on Christmas.”

  Kurt dreaded the big fat Greek Christmas and being pulled into the maelstrom of boisterous, loud, obnoxious Greekiness yet again. Dealing with Eliana all this time had been more than enough for him.

  Kurt lied, “I’m sure it will be great, Eliana. Have to run now. I have another call.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much, for everything.”

  Pushing aside the thought of more Greek festivities, Kurt made the other call he had mentioned. It was to Regina. He was ready to find an artful way to get Angela to move out and break all ties with her and her family. He liked Regina a lot—in fact, he was falling in love with her.

  “Regina, it’s Kurt. I have an … um … urgent assignment if you have time. And something to tell you.”

  “Sure thing. I have something to tell you too. Be right there.”

  Kurt needed a Regina fix, and badly. He had missed everything about her. His days and nights had become consumed with assuring his road to partnership, his commercial litigation, and Eliana’s case.

  It was in all that chaos that he had decided to break it off with Angela. He’d do it after Christmas.

  * * *

  Regina walked in with a regal presence as always, but more self-assured since she had brought in her big case. That made her all the more attractive to Kurt. He closed and locked the door.

  However, when he turned, she was seated at his conference, table legs and arms crossed. “We have to talk.”

  “Talk?” That was the dreaded relationship word coming out of any woman’s mouth. “I know I’ve been busy, but—”

  “I can’t do this anymore. You have a girlfriend, a live-in and–”

  Kurt stood Regina up gently by her shoulders and hugged her. “Darling, it doesn’t matter. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Angela and I are over.”

  “Over?” Kurt had just torpedoed Regina’s discrete, clear rationale for breaking it off with him. She shifted gears quickly. “I’m sorry, Kurt. That’s too bad for both of you, but you have to—”

  “Too bad? Regina, I love you.” Kurt’s words surprised him, but as he looked into Regina’s eyes he knew they were true.

  Regina extracted herself from his embrace and went to her backup rationale—less convincing, but still true, and face-saving for Kurt.

  “It’s more than that. We work in the same department. I’m afraid of fallout that would doom both of our careers here and we are both doing so well now.”

  Kurt was stunned and angry and silent.

  Regina added, “You’re up for your partnership vote. We can’t risk this.”

  “You mean you can’t.”

  “No. We both can’t.”

  “I care about you Regina. So much. We’ve kept this under wraps so far. No one knows or suspects anything.”

  “I’m sorry, Kurt. It’s been fun for me, for sure. You’re a hot guy and the sex has been great. But I don’t see a future for us. All I see is potential disaster to both our futures at the firm.”

  “But let me—”

  “Let’s stay friends. We’ll still get to work on cases together.”

  “You care about me too, Regina. I know you do. I can’t let you go.”

  “I’m sorry, Kurt. That’s not your call. Please don’t make this any harder for either of us.”

  * * *

  Kurt was shattered. He watched Regina walk out of his office as elegantly as she had entered it so many times before.

  Kurt knew it was over. The only question was whether she was worth making an ass of himself. Kurt’s eyes teared—it was at that moment he realized it really was love for him. He finally knew what love was, and it was too late.

  As she walked down the hallway, Regina’s eyes did not tear up. Her place in the firm was secure with her new client. She was not going to jeopardize her partnership opportunity for anyone. She really didn’t need Kurt anymore, for anything. In fact, while Kurt had been busy, the client’s President had become her primary contact—in more ways than one.

  Kurt still had Angela, but she was no Regina. He was going to get her out of his life after Christmas. Even without Regina, he had to move on and he would.

  Kurt buried his heartbreak doing real work for a change. Billable work—partnership-worthy work. The only work that really mattered to him—and the firm.

  ⌘

  Copyrighted Material

  Chapter 58

  Gary had spent Tuesday morning in his office cracking the whip on Vicky. It was her next to last day. He would make sure she cranked out as much make-work on his remaining clients as possible. Money was getting ever tighter. News reports were causing him to bleed clients faster than ever, and no new ones were in the pipeline.

  “Vicky,” he screamed. “Get in here! We have a lot to finish today before you go.”

  It would be a late night for him. Doing actual work, not reliving “special client” memories. No time for that now. He worked long after Vicky left for the day, grinding away.

  No vodka.

  No scotch.

  He didn’t get home until after one in the morning, and fell dead asleep, exhausted, beside Mary’s snores.

  * * *

  The next morning Gary woke up at five worried about his depleted cash reserves and justifying bills that would empty all his client trust accounts.

  He got up and was at work before seven. It was too early for the reporters who swarmed like flies over rotten meat as they continued to hound him. He spent the time before Vicky arrived going over his operating expenses, charge card bills, overall cash flow, and the property taxes for his office and his home, which were due.

  “I’m going under,” he murmured.

  * * *

  Vicky was there punctually at eight a.m.

  “Good morning.” She could endure anything on her last day caged with this monster.

  “Here.” Without looking up, he held out a memo for her with a list of tasks. “Get these done, all of them, before you leave. I mean it.”

  “Fine. But I’m taking my usual lunch break.”

  “Like I give a shit. Just get the list done. Now get out.”

  Vicky thought of not coming back in the afternoon, but Gary had the power of the final paycheck which she needed
.

  With her freedom in sight, Vicky sped through the list. It was mostly creating a document with codes for access to computer files, office organization rules and procedures, and passwords to accounts and sites her replacement would need.

  Gary sped through his emails.

  * * *

  At four-thirty in the afternoon, later than she had intended, Vicky was done. She walked into Gary’s office and dropped off her set of keys on his desk.

  Vicky pasted a big smile on her face. “There you go. You have a Happy Thanksgiving, now. I know I will.”

  Gary wanted to leap over the desk and wipe that smile off. “You didn’t take anything of mine, did you? Or mess up files so I can’t find something?”

  “No, I wouldn’t do that because I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”

  Nor I you, you fat ass bitch, Gary thought, but didn’t verbalize it just in case that Townsend called her as a trial witness when the trial actually happened.

  “My paycheck?” Vicky held her hand out.

  Gary filled out a check slowly. He had made sure it would clear—that one and a few others. He tossed it on the desk. Vicky picked it up and left.

  She ignored the reporters as she exited the building to go straight to Gary’s bank to cash the check.

  Driving away, she reveled in the fact she was done with him. More than that, to protect herself, she had secretly copied enough damning documents to stop him if he ever came after her for any reason.

  She was starting January 1st at a five-attorney firm with benefits and a bigger paycheck. Thanksgiving and Christmas with her family would be Stockton-free this year and she had a month to make Christmas really special for her family.

  * * *

  Kurt spent Thanksgiving with Eliana’s family. A mass of loud-mouthed Greeks gathered at the sprawling home of one of Eliana’s successful restaurateur uncles in Claremont near the cluster of world-renowned colleges there.

  Food and booze flowed freely, along with loud conversation, Greek dancing, and the usual separation of the women and the men in the evenings. The former were in the dining room and kitchen bragging about their old family recipes. The latter were relaxing on the expansive back porch overlooking the large backyard and pool—smoking cigars, drinking brandy, and talk about football, politics, and women, not necessarily in that order.

  Kurt had a great time bantering with the men and subtly ogling all the women. He had experienced the gathering of Greek beauties before. Angela and her mother were delighted that Kurt seemed to fit in—not realizing how many drinks he had needed to do it and, of course, forget about Regina.

  * * *

  Gary’s Thanksgiving started well enough. That Wednesday after Vicky left, he telephoned a prospective new client, male as most of his new prospects were now. He was successful in setting up a meeting Monday. Then he picked up their pre-ordered turkey from ALDI market, a store on Hospitality Lane near Suzanne Friedman’s office building.

  Wednesday evening passed well enough, with Mary and their offspring preparing dishes for the feast to come—always at two o’clock so they could enjoy leftovers in the evening too.

  Gary closeted himself in his study to watch football and imbibe too much in the process. He was grateful that tradition dictated that he not participate in kitchen activities, even though his son and son-in-law did.

  * * *

  On Thanksgiving morning Gary intentionally slept late, appearing just in time for the early dinner with their kids and their grandchildren.

  When he took his seat at the head of the dining room table, a tense undercurrent came with him. Stilted, polite conversation reigned as everyone avoided any mention of his professional predicament.

  Gary was careful not to drink to excess, for once. He played the patriarch role to a tee, even managing to feign interest in the shenanigans of the little ones. He didn’t give a damn about them, of course. It was all a front. He just wanted to get past the weekend without having to address any of the news reports or be confronted by Mary or their offspring.

  He almost succeeded.

  * * *

  Friday morning when the goodbyes began, his son and daughter corralled Gary in the kitchen, where he was trying to hide by helping Mary put away dishes.

  “Dad,” his son Larry began. “About this Thurston case, and all the news reports—I’m getting questions from clients, friends, my own staff.”

  Gary turned and said, “Look I don’t know how—”

  “Lies. All lies,” Mary interrupted. “Your Dad is a prominent divorce lawyer, representing women. He’s head of the Family Law Section of our County Bar Association. He’s a big target for disgruntled clients and sensationalist reporters.”

  Gary hadn’t told anyone about his ouster from the San Bernardino County Bar Association. He wasn’t about to correct Mary now. Let the poor deluded wife, who had become his live-in servant, now function as his defender. She exemplified the reality that those closest to a malefactor are often the last to know—or, to admit they know. In truth, Mary wasn’t defending Gary so much as she was her own precious lifestyle.

  Larry backed down after his mother’s tongue-lashing, but Charlotte wasn’t satisfied.

  “Maybe that’s true, Mom, but it doesn’t make things any easier for Larry or me. I got called in by my boss, my principal and had to explain this stuff. She warned me that Dad wasn’t to come anywhere near our school. I’m worried about my job.”

  Gary played the righteous indignation card, loudly. “What the hell? Where does your principal get off telling you that? More importantly, when have I ever visited that crappy public school where you still insist on teaching? You’d be better at home raising those imps of yours, the way your Mom raised you and Larry.”

  Charlotte started crying. “That’s unfair, Dad, and you know it.”

  Larry put his comforting arm around his sister’s ample shoulders.

  “Charlotte’s not a lawyer. She’s not tough. Neither one of us has ever had to deal with anything like this before.”

  Gary put on the required show of fatherly concern and contrition.

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just so hard.

  Mary stood by her man and her meal ticket. “We know, dear.”

  Gary said, “It’s really unfortunate that both of you have to deal with this. It’s all so unfair. It will end soon, you’ll see. The Thurston case will go away, and all those money-grubbing women with their phony stories looking for publicity will too. Just be patient, please.”

  He was smooth and soothing, using on his children the same wiles he employed with potential new clients when he was reeling them in.

  Mollified, Charlotte stopped crying.

  “I understand, Dad. It’s just so ugly.”

  Gary hugged her, staying in character as it were. “I know, honey, I know. Just hang in there. You too, Larry.”

  Gary shook Larry’s hand.

  Mary smiled. This was a Gary she liked seeing.

  Charlotte said, “We’d better hit the road. Thanks, Mom, for everything.”

  “Drive safe.”

  “We will, Mom.” Larry headed for the door with Charlotte in tow.

  Gary waved as they left, and was on his best behavior with Mary the remainder of the weekend. For once, he slept well, pleased with how he had handled himself. He was confident it all would be over soon, somehow.

  He could not have been more wrong.

  ⌘

  Copyrighted Material

  Chapter 59

  Monday, November 29th Gary was at his office early. He sorted the mail and tore open one envelope from a plaintiff’s tort firm. He read it with rising fury and fear. It was a civil complaint, essentially identical to the one Eliana had filed, making all of the same claims. It was the first in what he feared would become an avalanche from his “special” clients.

  Gary went to the Internet to see if the press had discovered this new attack on him y
et. It hadn’t. He figured he had a couple of days reprieve because of the filing process at the court.

  He checked the San Bernardino County Bar Association website, as he now did frequently, even though his access to much of the site was restricted since he was no longer a member. There was nothing focused on him, except the announcement that he had been replaced the head the Family Law Section with no mention of his long service.

  “They can go to hell,” Gary said as his eyes caught another article.

  San Bernardino Superior Court had in fact created a new Family Court Department and Judge Leilani Kwok was the new head. The article touted her stellar career and the remarkable changes she had made in the way family law matters were handled in the Santa Clara County Superior Court. At the end, there was a mention that Judge Vega had been transferred to the Barstow Superior Court.

  Gary panicked and scrolled through his unchecked Wednesday and subsequent emails to see if the Thurston trial was affected by any of what he had read.

  He forcefully stabbed the delete button as he skimmed the subject lines.

  Then he saw it—a Wednesday email from the court on the Thurston case. It stayed the case and reassigned it from Judge Vega to Judge Kwok. It was his death knell. Now that little bitch Eliana and her big-time lawyer would never settle. The pressure of Vega and her bench trial were gone. Reading further, he saw that instead of an expedited trial starting on December 16th, there would be a pre-trial status conference on December 13th. There would be more time, too much time, for other “special” clients of Gary’s to surface.