“That would be lovely,” she said.
“Happy to take it from here, boss,” Janice said enthusiastically. “I’ll finish things up and type everything out for you to read over tonight.”
“Thank you for your time and for helping Esty,” Rita said. “I thought of her as my little girl, too, so I want to make sure that she gets what she rightfully deserves.”
“We will,” I said, shaking Rita’s hand. “I will see you tomorrow morning when I bring the deposition by your hotel to be signed.”
As I left the boardroom, I noted that Ethan’s office door was open, which meant that Armand’s mental competency exam was over. Eager to find out the results, I sauntered over but was cut off by a melodramatic Trevor.
“Coco just arrived,” Trevor informed me breathlessly. “She’s in your office, in tears.”
“Thanks, Trev,” I said. “Why don’t you go home for the night and I’ll take care of Coco.”
When I entered my office, Coco was sitting with her head in her hands, sobbing.
“Coco? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Lucky,” she sobbed. “He’s DEAD!”
“Dead?” I asked surprised, as I sat next to her on the sofa.
“I’ve been at his doggy autopsy all afternoon,” she wailed.
“That must have been awful,” I said. “So, did you poison him?”
“So not funny, Jo,” she cried.
“No, you’re right. Death is never a laughing matter,” I said respectfully.
“You don’t understand. They think I killed him, and if I am found to be at fault, I don’t inherit ANYTHING!” she cried.
“So when do you get the results?” I asked.
“Tomorrow,” she replied.
“What happened to Lucky exactly?” I asked.
“Well, you know how we went drinking all weekend?” she asked rhetorically.
I nodded.
“Well, he spent all weekend in the crate on my balcony without food, water or his diabetes pills …”
“You left that poor animal outside during a record-high heat wave?” I asked in shock.
“I didn’t mean to! Now I may lose all of that money,” she wailed.
“Let’s just hope that the autopsy says that Lucky died of old age,” I said supportively.
“What’s going on in here?” Ethan asked, popping his head in my office.
“I’ll fill you in later,” I advised. “Coco, why don’t you go see how Javier and Tanya are doing with your files?”
“Ok,” she choked.
Coco left my office and Ethan closed the door to fill me in on Armand’s assessment.
“So, do you want the good news or the bad news?” Ethan asked.
“Just hit me with it,” I replied, knowing that the day couldn’t get much worse.
“Well, the good news is that the power of attorney under which you are named the attorney for property remains valid. The last will that you drafted for him is also valid,” he said.
“That’s fantastic,” I beamed. “So how can there be any bad news?”
“The bad news is that they cannot be changed. Your father is significantly cognitively impaired. He has substantial damage to both his frontal and left temporal lobes, according to the neurologist who saw him after his last stroke. Dr. Soundtree advised that this has limited his ability to pay attention, altered his personality and has affected his memory,” he continued.
“Is there any bad news? Antonia can try all she likes to change his power of attorney or will, but, now that we have this assessment, I’ll file an immediate motion in court to have him declared mentally incompetent. She won’t be able to manipulate him or take any more of his money,” I said.
“That’s great, but it’s your father, and he’s really sick. You cannot be happy about that,” he said, leaning across my desk to comfort me.
“What’s sad is that I’ll have to control his finances and ensure that he’s taken care of for the rest of his life. Sylvia will never let anything bad happen to him, despite the fact that he has it coming. My only interest is in protecting her,” I replied, my tone sharp.
“It’s no wonder you are so hard on men. Armand really messed you up,” Ethan said.
Before I could reply, there was a knock on my door.
“Honey, you decent in there?” Janice bellowed.
“I’m in a meeting, Janice. You need to come back later,” I replied.
“Well, you have a visitor here and I think you are going to want to open the door,” she said.
“Fine. Come in.”
It was as though time stood still. The door opened in slow motion to reveal my mystery guest. There was Blake Hart, standing before me bearing an obscenely large bouquet of my favourite flowers — cymbidium orchids, black magic roses and peonies — grinning ear-to-ear. My face dropped to the floor, but not before Ethan’s did.
“Joey!” he exclaimed. “Surprise!”
If my day had not been bad enough, Blake’s pre-emptive and unannounced visit had the same effect as Pearl Harbor. This day was to live on in infamy. Blake was everyone’s beloved professor at Stanford, including Ethan’s. They had played basketball on the weekends and Blake was Ethan’s cool, intellectual role model. When Ethan first found out about my affair with Blake, he was livid with us both. They stopped playing basketball and Ethan kept his distance from me. I should have recognized back then that Ethan had deeper emotional feelings for me, but I had never been one to pick up on the subtleties of courtship. However, when Blake left me to return to his wife, Ethan went ballistic. For the first and only time in his life, he stopped going to class because he couldn’t even look at Blake. He still managed to pass the course by riding the B grade curve using my class notes. Ethan even threatened to report Blake to the administration for violating the unspoken code of professor-student relationships. It didn’t matter that Ethan’s threats never materialized — Blake’s wife reported the affair to the law school administration, resulting in Blake’s suspension. Coco was more understanding since she herself had enjoyed a few relationships with her professors at Brown. However, she too was quite adamant that Blake never return to my life in that capacity.
“Blake, what are you doing here?” I asked, frozen behind my desk.
“Well, when I got your email last week, I thought that, instead of writing you back and giving you an option to blow me off, I would show up making you an offer you couldn’t refuse,” he said.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Hart!” Ethan shouted as he stood to confront Blake.
“Ooh drama!” Janice shrieked. “I don’t want Coco and the others to miss out on this show. Popcorn anyone?” Janice scurried off, acting as the town crier to let everyone in the office know about the unfolding soap opera. Within a few moments, Blake, Ethan and I had an audience.
“Ethan, good to see you,” Blake said respectfully. Blake never got over how Ethan had rejected him.
“Get out of here,” Ethan ordered. “Joely doesn’t want to see you.”
“That’s not true, Ethan. She emailed me back last week saying that she did,” he replied.
Ethan shot me a look of hurt and disgust.
“How could you not tell me that this predatory prick contacted you?” Ethan shouted. “How could you lie to me?”
“She didn’t lie,” Coco offered protectively.
“An omission is a lie by another name,” Ethan spat.
“It really doesn’t matter now, does it? Ethan, this is between Joey and me, and you have to stay out of it,” Blake advised.
“Don’t call her that. Don’t act like she’s still your little plaything. You destroyed her when your wife showed up, and I won’t let you hurt her again,” Ethan bellowed.
“Ethan, you really need to back off,” Blake warned, as Ethan stood toe-to-toe with him.
“Why don’t I just get these flowers out of the way,” Janice offered, squeezing between the men to retrieve the bouquet. “We don’t w
ant any extra casualties.”
“This is my office and you had better leave,” Ethan barked.
“Actually, this is my office that everyone is standing in and I think that everyone but Blake should leave,” I ordered.
“Excuse me?” Ethan cried, turning on his heels to face me.
“This is between Blake and me, not you or anyone else,” I said.
“Joely, I am not going anywhere and neither are you. This guy is poison,” Ethan warned.
“Ethan, I’m going to go to dinner with Blake and we are all going to be civil to each other,” I ordered.
“You’re supposed to be having dinner with me,” Ethan said, his voice dropping desperately. “We still need to talk.”
“It can wait,” I said.
“If you leave here, you are going to make this rift between us worse,” Ethan threatened, unaware of the ears that had perked up at this comment.
“Javier and Tanya, if you both are done for the day, you can go home now,” I ordered. Without a word, the two disappeared to the back of the office. “Coco, can you please help Janice complete Rita’s deposition? Once it’s done, please email and messenger it over to my house. I’ll review it and take care of any changes before Rita has to execute it.”
“Sure thing, Jo,” Coco said. “Let’s go, Janice.”
“Just when things were getting good too,” Janice said, her shoulders falling disappointedly.
Ethan remained standing in my office, fuming at me.
“Blake, shall we?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said reaching for my hand to guide me around the statue that was Ethan. “I made a few different reservations as I didn’t know where you would like to eat. If we were at Stanford, I would have taken you to that little …”
“Don’t do this, Joely. You’re going to regret it,” Ethan said, without turning around.
“Good night, Ethan,” I said as we left.
We drove to Mastro’s in silence. It was my favourite restaurant in LA and I figured that eating there would be the one saving grace to this horrible day.
“Joey, I don’t want to hurt you, you know that,” Blake started as soon as we’d been seated. “But I know that I don’t want to live without you.”
“I am not your Joey.” I gave him an emphatic look over my glass of water.
“Joey, I’ve always loved you. That was why I was so foolish to get involved with you when I was still married. I should have waited, but I was not thinking. I let my heart lead my head,” he said.
“That was a long time ago. We are very different people now,” I said. “I’ve lived several lifetimes since we split up.”
“We are no different now than we were then. The feelings are still there. Why else would you tell me that you need closure?” he asked.
“Because I never got any. You dumped me unceremoniously in spite of having professed your undying love for me. I was ruined. I fled to New York to get away. When I saw you that day on my own turf, I was so vulnerable that all of my unresolved emotions for you drowned me. You’re damn right I need closure!” I yelled, ignoring everyone in the restaurant staring at me.
The waiter came over to take our orders. I ordered my usual — New York strip sirloin steak and Mastro’s signature lobster-garlic mashed potatoes.
“I’m so sorry,” Blake said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.
“It’s not enough,” I said, pulling away. “I needed to see you to be able to tell you that while you could have been possibly the first quasi-healthy relationship in my life, the man who could have turned my opinion about men on its head, with whom I could have created a family, you were the most devastating male force in my life next to my so-called father. You robbed me of whatever bit of optimism and hope I had for a healthy relationship in my life. That’s probably why I ran into Yan’s arms.”
“I don’t want to continue to hurt you,” Blake said.
“You won’t because I won’t let you,” I replied. “There can be nothing between us, no matter what slivers of nostalgia linger in me.”
“But we could be fantastic together. Don’t you remember how emotionally connected we were? Do you remember when we made love?” he asked.
“No, I really don’t,” I lied. “Even if there was something between us back then, it was never right. I was desperate for love and attention, something I never got from Armand when I was growing up. Like him, you were unavailable to me in other ways. I don’t want to be with a man that is anything like him so I need to stop the cycle now.”
My iPhone vibrated on the table.
“Excuse me for a second,” I said, looking down to see who was messaging me. Coco had texted me to tell me that she overheard Tanya licking Ethan’s wounds after Blake and I had left the office and that he had asked her out to dinner. I fumed. Tanya was solely focused on finding a husband. I quickly texted Coco back telling her that she would have to talk to Tanya about our firm’s newly instituted policy prohibiting intra-office dating.
“Problem with a file?” Blake asked.
“No.”
“Is it about Ethan?”
“No,” I lied. “Can we please change the topic?”
“How’s your practice coming along?” he asked as the entrees were brought out.
“Fantastic, actually. We couldn’t be busier,” I said, shoving a forkful of garlic and lobster mashed potatoes in my mouth.
“That’s wonderful news!” he exclaimed. “I’m very happy to hear that things are going well for you here and that the problems from New York dwell in your past.”
“I think you spoke too soon,” I said, looking up to see Chip Hancock standing behind Blake. This had officially become one of the worst days of my life.
“My, my, my! If it isn’t my former junior,” Chip chided. “Enjoying your last supper?”
“Why, are you and your little anti-Semitic colleagues planning on crucifying another Jew?” I asked.
“Your paranoid accusations of racism are unwarranted, but, yes, I will be nailing you tomorrow. It won’t be to a cross, though,” he threatened. “I’ll give you one last chance to back off and drop the lawsuit. Unless you want to be disbarred?”
“The only thing you are going to nail is your slutty client,” I seethed. “Now take your threats and screw off. I’d like to enjoy my dinner.”
“With your daddy?” he said snidely.
“No, with Professor Blake Hart — the pre-eminent Estates and Trusts scholar whose name you must know since he is the foremost authority on undue influence in the United States,” I said defiantly. “He’s consulting on this case.”
Blake did his best to mask shock. All colour fled from Chip’s face.
“Well, work with whomever you want, Joely, but it won’t matter. You’re going to get kicked off of this case tomorrow,” he advised arrogantly.
“You know what, Chip. Bring it on. The only thing that is going to get kicked is your ass,” I spat.
Chip spun around and stormed back to his table.
“So, I’m in your employ now?” Blake asked with a devious smile. “It’s a start.”
“It’s nothing. That was Chip, my former colleague I told you about who screwed me over for partnership,” I said, dismissing any notion that I needed Blake. “I was just grandstanding.”
“I’m happy to help you out, you know. I am the pre-eminent Estates and Trusts scholar who is the foremost authority on undue influence in the United States — your words, not mine,” he said, digging into his steak with a grin.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Blake always made me laugh.
“Well, I may accept your offer,” I said, chewing slowly, “but only to assist me with this case.”
“Like I said, it’s a start,” Blake replied with a warm smile.
We settled into an interesting discussion on points of law from the most recent undue influence cases as we continued our meal. I had to admit that Blake was right about one thing — the intellectual connection between u
s was still there. In fact, there still was a physical attraction, but it was one I was intent on keeping at bay until it was extinct. After paying the bill, we walked towards the stairs to leave the restaurant. Before heading down the stairs, Blake paused at Chip’s table, placing his hands on Chip’s shoulders.
“See you in court tomorrow. Be afraid, Chippy. Be very afraid,” Blake leaned in and whispered into Chip’s ear before looking to his date. “Miss, enjoy your dinner at Mastro’s, because you likely won’t be able to afford to eat here ever again!”
Not wanting to give Blake any mixed messages about the possibility of rekindling a romantic relationship, I told him that I was taking my leave from him at the restaurant and hailed a waiting taxi to take me home. As I stepped one foot into the cab, Blake, who was holding the door open for me, leaned in and kissed me before I could stop him.
“Good night, Joey,” he said dreamily as I fell into the cab. “See you tomorrow.”
As the cab drove north toward Sunset, I turned around to see Blake standing curbside watching me drive off. I’m screwed, I thought to myself as I was driven home, mind swirling.
CHAPTER 15
$1,000,000,000 Elephant
I marched up the stairs of the Beverly Hills Courthouse, listening to “Eye of the Tiger” and mentally readying myself for the make-or-break fight of my career. Despite my best efforts to conceal my nerves, my stomach was doing more backflips than Nadia Comaneci as I entered the courthouse. This hearing was the first time in a number of months that I was setting foot in a courtroom, and my first time doing so in California.
My pretrial checklist ran in my head:
Served Rita’s deposition to Chip? Check.
Arguments prepared to counter any attempt by Chip to kick me off of the case? Check.
Deodorant? Check.
When I entered the courtroom, both Esty and Rita were seated patiently awaiting my arrival.
“Good morning,” I said, taking the earphones out of my ears. “How are you feeling?”
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