by B. T. Love
Dating A Lawyer
B.T. Love
Dating A Lawyer
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 by B.T. Love
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this material or artwork may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
What Bradley Saw
One
I stared at him from across the long narrow table. He was relaxed in his chair, thumbing through a pile of papers that were resting on his lap. Once he was done he cleared his throat and scooted forward, tapping the papers on the table to shuffle them back into a neat stack. “Well,” he finally spoke, “I’m going to take your client to the cleaners.”
I shook my head with a scoff and looked down at my own set of papers. “A little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“I have reason to be. Your client is a piece of trash; it won’t be hard to get what I need out of him.”
My head shot up to see the confident smile on his smug face. “Don’t you dare talk about my client like that. Your client cheated on him first.”
“Do you blame her? I’ve seen his picture. He’s twenty years older than her and she’s ten times more attractive.”
“And that’s a good reason to cheat?”
He relaxed back in his chair once again, bringing his hands up in defense. “Hey, he cheated too. Don’t go pointing fingers here.”
“Yeah, after she cheated on him, you idiot.”
His smile widened. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to take him for everything he has; just you wait and see.”
My lips pursed with annoyance. Who did this guy think he was? Actually, I knew the answer already because I had been hearing a lot about him recently. His name was Bradley Hunter, and he was some big shot lawyer from the city. He moved here about a month ago and went right to work picking up clients, or shall I say stealing clients, from the other lawyers in town. He hadn’t snuck off with any of my clients though. I was too good.
I tapped my pen over and over again on the table, a move I subconsciously did when I was anxious. “You think just because you’re from the city that you can boss your way around us small-time lawyers. And you most likely think that you’re better than me.”
“Oh, I am better than you, Ms. Balkner,” he said with sureness.
My pen tapped wildly. “Explain how that is.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, the move pulling back the sleeve of his suit jacket, revealing an expensive-looking watch on his wrist. “I’ve been doing this my whole life.”
“I would respect that if you were an old man, but you aren’t. And I’ve done this my whole life as well.”
He smiled, his eyes falling to the incessant drumming of my pen. “I graduated at the top of my class in law school.”
“So did I.”
“Is there a problem?” he cut in, nodding his head at my hand.
I quickly stopped tapping and sat my pen down, folding my arms on the table. “Yeah, you’re a problem.”
“You just seem nervous.”
“Quit analyzing my behavior,” I warned him firmly. “I’m not a witness on the stand for you to cross examine.”
His bright smile was still plastered on his smug face. It really irked me, mainly because he was attractive to begin with. The smile just accentuated his handsomeness even more so. I had heard he was good-looking from some of my girlfriends who had seen him before I did. I shrugged it off, not caring whether or not it were true because he kinda sounded like a complete douche bag anyway. But today, sitting across from him for the first time, I knew the rumors were true: He was the sexiest guy in town.
“No, you’re not,” he started in again. “But let me tell you, if you were, I’d have you completely figured out. In fact, I already do.”
“And why is that? Because you’ve done this your whole life?” I said, mocking his words from earlier.
“Yes, there’s that. And I’ve also never lost a case before. I’m just that good.”
I chuckled and sat back in my chair, crossing one knee over the other. “Liar.”
His eyes sparkled. “I’m not a liar.”
“You would have to be to win every case you’ve ever been handed.”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “I’ve never lied. I’m just good at persuading the court to see it from my client’s perspective. Like I’ve been telling you, Ms. Balkner, I’m very good at what I do.”
I mentally kicked myself for hearing those last few words suggestively. It was hard not to though; he just looked too damn good. I shook my thoughts from my head and swiveled slowly from side to side in my chair. “Well congratulations on never losing a case. That’s quite rare in our profession.”
His smile shrunk to one that was more genuine. “And what about you? You ever lose a case?”
“Yes,” I matched his expression. “We all can’t be like you, Mr. Hunter.”
“You ever win one?”
I rolled my eyes, letting out a puff of air in the process. “Just when I thought you would sincerely take my compliment you turn around and get right back on track to offend me.” There was a knock at the conference room door. “Come in,” I said as I spun around in my chair.
My secretary, who also happened to be my best friend, stuck her head it. “The Thompson’s are here. Should I send them in?”
“Yes, Nancy. Thank you.”
She eyed Bradley and then looked at me once again before shutting the door. Nancy had already seen him in town, and was one of the ones who wouldn’t shut up about how hot he was. I could tell she was excited to have him in our office.
Bradley leaned down and picked his briefcase up from the floor. “Thanks for letting us meet in your conference room,” he said as he sat it on the table and flipped the locks open on the front. “I’m still in the middle of putting my office together; it’s in shambles at the moment.”
“Wow, Bradley, you’re actually thanking me for something?” I teased lightly. “I’m stunned.”
His eyes cut up from his briefcase. “I’m a businessman as well as a gentleman. And please, call me Brad.”
Nancy tapped on the door and then pushed it open for the Thompson’s to enter. “Here you go,” she said to them as they passed her into our room.
Brad and I both stood to greet them. “Hello, Steve,” I said as I shook my client’s hand.
“Hello, Roxy,” he replied as he squeezed back gently. Steve was such a kind man; I felt bad that his wife was trying to put him through the ringer.
Brad shook Claire Thompson’s hand and she smiled brightly at him, a little too brightly, if you asked me. But I couldn’t blame her really. I mean, the man was gorgeous.
“Have a seat,” I told them as I sat down in my chair. I flipped back the first page of my stapled document and stared down at the black and white print. “So I’ll start off by asking the obvious: Are you two still in agreement that a divorce is what you wish to proceed with?”
/> Claire puffed out a laugh of air. “Are you kidding me? Why would I want to stay with this cheater?”
I looked up from my paper and settled on Claire’s face. Brad was right, she was young and attractive, but that didn’t make Steve any less attractive than she was. He wasn’t a horrible looking man; he just had twenty years on her. I imagined that if he were the same age as she was that they would actually add up to the equivalent of attractiveness.
“You cheated on me first,” Steve fired back from across the table.
“Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You can’t even get it up for me anymore.”
“That’s quite enough,” I cut in, irritated by her insult.
Brad cleared his throat. “What my client is trying to say is that her husband was no longer able to satisfy her.”
“What?” Steve asked with desperation. “You wouldn’t ever let me touch you. It was a chore to try to get you into bed with me. I had to buy you something before you would touch me.”
“That’s your side of the story,” Brad said.
I looked down at my paper and rolled my eyes. “And I assume this issue was discussed between the both of you before you came to the conclusion that you wanted to leave him?”
“Well, yeah,” Claire said, her voice quieter than the moment before.
“That’s not true,” Steve said. “You never talked to me about anything.”
“I knew that already from our discussion before,” I said, looking at Steve. “I just wanted to see how she was going to answer the question.”
“Are you trying to harass my client?” Brad asked.
I looked up to see that his face was serious. “Yes, I am,” I answered honestly. “But that’s only because I’ve learned from sitting in this room with you for the past fifteen minutes that you are going to be harassing my client as much as you possibly can. I mean, within a few minutes of sitting down you basically threatened my client by saying you were going to, what was it, take him to the cleaners?”
Brad smiled. “And I wasn’t lying.”
I glared at him as I watched a pair of horns grow out of the top of his head. I mean, that really didn’t happen of course, but it might as well have. He was the devil in disguise.
“So is that what you want?” Steve asked his wife. “My money? Is that what you married me for to begin with?”
“No,” she scoffed in reply.
“You’re lying,” he said softly.
I closed the page I was looking at and leaned over to Steve. “Yes, she is lying. And I think the judge will see that.”
“The judge will see a neglectful husband,” Brad cut it.
“A neglectful husband?” I repeated in disbelief. “And what evidence of neglect did your client give you exactly?”
“I’d be happy to share it with you,” he said as he pulled a paper out of his briefcase and sat it down in front of him. “On January seventeenth of last year my client suffered a miscarriage. Her husband provided absolutely no consolation whatsoever, which made my client feel that she had no support in the situation. She became depressed and turned to alcohol to comfort her in her time of need.”
“And obviously another man,” I added.
Brad looked up from his paper. “Turning to another man was something she did because she was under the influence, and she was under the influence because your client was emotionally void during a serious emotional matter.”
“From what I understand, your client was flirtatious with men long before the miscarriage happened.”
“That doesn’t matter. She didn’t have an affair until after she was denied emotional support.”
“I didn’t know what to do or say,” Steve told his wife from across the table. “I mean, did it ever occur to you that I was suffering too? I lost a baby just as much as you did.”
Claire leaned forward and pointed a manicured finger at him. “You didn’t care one bit about our baby. You were just glad that I wanted a baby because it gave you security that I would stay in your life.”
Steve’s face contorted into a look of anguish. “How could you say that?”
She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. “Because, it’s the truth,” she said as her right eye twitched. “You used me just as much as I used you. You never supported me through anything.”
I could spot a liar from a mile away. And Claire Thompson? Yeah, she was definitely a liar. And a good one, too. This case was proving to be a hard one.
Brad took another paper out of his briefcase. “Well, my client has supplied me with documents that prove your client’s net worth, income, and expense information—“
“Yeah, I asked my client for his wife’s financial information as well,” I interrupted him. “But seeing as though she didn’t do anything to contribute to the household income I kind of came up empty-handed on that one.”
“I contributed,” Claire defended herself. “I cleaned the house.” Her right eye twitched; another lie.
“No you didn’t,” Steve argued. “I worked all day, then I would come home and pick up after you. All you did was lay out at the pool all day and get tanned, or go to the beauty salon and get your hair and nails done. You never had to lift a finger. I even hired someone to cook our meals so you wouldn’t have to do it.”
“And I paid you back by sleeping with you.”
“You paid me back by sleeping with me? How does that make sense? You are my wife; sleeping with me isn’t supposed to be something you do to repay me for something else. You should want to make love to me.”
“That’s enough,” Brad interrupted them. “We’re getting off track here. The fact of the matter is that my client felt deserted in a time of need and she committed adultery under those conditions. She is entitled to a portion of your client’s assets.”
“This is the most ridiculous discussion I have ever had,” I said as I grabbed my pen and began tapping it on the table.
Brad noticed immediately. “We don’t have time for your anxiety, Ms. Balkner.”
My eyes narrowed; how dare he speak to me that way. “Don’t act like you’ve got me figured out, Mr. Hunter.” I clicked my pen and put it to the paper in front of me, writing a note that had nothing to do with the case. The fact of the matter was that Brad did have me figured out, and I was mad that he called me out on one of the traits that I couldn’t stand most about myself. But I needed to keep my composure and not let him see that he found a weak spot, so I continued to write nonsense before clearing my throat and then looking back up. “And what exactly does your client want?” I asked with confidence.
Brad looked down at his paper. “Well let’s start with the beach house in Maui.”
I chuckled and looked over at Steve. “The beach house in Maui,” I repeated. “Of course she wants the beach house in Maui.”
“Why . . . why would you want to take that from me Claire?”
“She said you acquired the beach house during the time you were married,” Brad answered.
“Yes but it belonged to my mother. She left it to me when she passed away.”
“I was the only one who used it,” Claire said, her tone getting snottier by the second.
Steve shook his head in disbelief. “That’s because it was too hard for me to go there. You knew how close I was to my mom . . . How could you do this to me?”
“I tried to comfort you when she died but you didn’t want my help.”
“Yeah, you tried comforting me by shoving a bottle of vodka in my face. I didn’t want to drink my problems away like you tended to do.”
“So,” Brad cut in, “what you’re saying is that your wife tried helping you in a time of emotional need and you pushed her away, and when she needed you emotionally you pushed her away then as well. That to me is evidence enough that the relationship was lacking in areas that your wife needed fulfillment in. She entered into a marriage expecting those needs to be met and when they weren’t she took the necessary actions she felt she needed to take to sur
vive the relationship.”
“Survive the relationship?” I repeated. “You’re treating this as if it were a case of domestic abuse.”
“Well, I certainly see it as a case of emotional abuse.”
I tossed my pen down on the table. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Not at all.”
“Then we will counter your emotional abuse claim with one of our own.”
Brad smiled and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms once again and revealing his pricey watch, reminding me of his success. “And how is it that my client emotionally abused your client?”
“Seriously? Have you even been listening to this conversation or are you too busy listening to the egotistical voices in your head?”
A small laugh escaped him; he was enjoying this. “My client was simply reacting to how she was being treated.”
“I can say the same thing about Steve.”
“I also want alimony,” Claire cut in to our argument. “And the Ferrari.”
“Maybe it would be easier if you make a list of what you don’t want, Mrs. Thompson,” I said, my voice filled with sarcasm.
“We can do that,” Brad said with confidence, not even batting an eye.
I looked back at the devil before me. “You have no conscience whatsoever do you?”
“I’m just doing my job.”
I shook my head. “I’ll discuss your terms with my client in private. He needs time to consider everything that your client is asking for, and I don’t want him making any decisions right now.”
“That’s fine,” Brad said as he stood up from the table. He gathered his papers and placed them neatly in his briefcase before closing it and locking the locks back into place. “Call me when you’ve decided on your terms.”
Claire stood and flipped her long hair behind her. “Thank you Bradley,” she said while shooting him her brightest of smiles.
I took my pen back into my grasp and subconsciously tapped in on the table. Seeing Mrs. Thompson flirt with her lawyer made me almost throw up in my mouth. She would most likely try to take him to bed too, if she hadn’t already.