The Divorce Attorney

by Melanie Munton

  One of his dress shirts covers my bare breasts, while he remains magnificently naked, though the thin bedsheet is currently covering all the good parts. He’s sitting partially upright against the headboard, arm slung over his head, watching me with lustful eyes.

  Like I said, devastating.

  “Is it weird that I wish I could have known you back then?” I ask. “Twenties Carter. Corporate lawyer Carter. Even though I was in middle school when you were taking on those corporations.” I cringe. “I guess that is a little weird.”

  “I’m actually glad you didn’t know me back then.”

  “Why?”

  His face darkens, the golden light in his hazel eyes dimming. “You wouldn’t have liked me. My last big corporate case I told you about? The one that went on for months? It was more of a personal vendetta, which is a huge no-no for a lawyer. I didn’t tell my superiors that I had a personal connection to the case, which is not only highly unethical, it’s also slightly illegal.”

  “And what was the personal connection?”

  His gaze clashes with mine. “The defendant was the man my wife cheated on me with. And I took him for everything he had.”

  There isn’t pride in the statement. More like self-deprecation.

  “I mean, the charges were legal, otherwise it never would have gone to court.” His face contorts in something akin to disgust. “But they were extremely thin. It basically boiled down to clerical errors with a lot of fine print. They didn’t need to be pursued with so much vigor, but I kept digging deeper and pushing harder.”

  I’ve set the pie plate down, eating no longer a necessity in the wake of his confessions.

  “I was still a young lawyer,” he goes on. “Impulsive, emotionally-driven. I was pissed off and hurt, so I wanted to hurt him back. And I did. Even though he never knew she was married during their affair, I didn’t care. I just kept going back to the fact that the baby she lost might have been his. That my wife might have been carrying another man’s child. That drove my need for revenge more than anything else.”

  I can’t help but feel sympathy for both men. They both lost everything in different ways. All because of one selfish woman.

  Until this story, I wouldn’t have thought Carter capable of vengeance. Even with the fierce way he came to my defense tonight, I can’t see him as the type to be ruled by hatred or resentment.

  But everyone has their limits.

  And betrayal changes people.

  “I wasn’t a good person, darlin’.”

  I can tell he means it, but I’m a firm believer that people can change for the better.

  “Do you regret it now?”

  He thinks about it for a moment, looking more and more troubled with every second that passes. “I honestly don’t know. Isn’t that awful? I’ve grown up a hell of a lot since then. I’ve matured and gotten perspective. But I just don’t know if I actually regret what I did. After the case was over and I left corporate law, I felt like I had closure. Like I could finally move on with my life. Like divorcing her and making her lover pay brought everything back into balance somehow. I don’t know if I would have felt the same if I’d never gone after him.”

  I place my hand over his on his chest. “You weren’t a bad person, Carter. You were hurt and confused, and that’s usually when people are at their most desperate. They lash out without thinking about the consequences. Reacting emotionally can result in some pretty ugly decisions, which are rarely ever rational.”

  He squeezes my fingers.

  “I may not have known you then, but I know you now. And I think deep down you feel bad that your anger might have been taken out on the wrong person.”

  He runs his other hand through his hair, gripping the strands. “You might be right. Jesus, why does life have to be so messy?”

  I grin. “I seem to recall a wise man once saying that he was looking for messy.”

  With one hard tug, he pulls me on top of him until I’m straddling his waist. His hand trails over my thigh, lifting to the buttons on his white dress shirt. One by one, his fingers pop them open. My pulse quickens with every inch of skin he exposes to his scalding gaze.

  “That same man also said he was the type to act on all of his impulses,” he says, watching his own fingers work to undress me.

  “A dangerous habit,” I throw out, recalling our conversation that first night he came into the bar.

  Was that only six days ago?

  “Or a fulfilling one,” he repeats his original words. “And I definitely regret acting on some of my impulses over the years.”

  After releasing the final button, the material parts. He slips it off my shoulders, stripping off the last barrier between us. Every part of me is on display.

  He slowly shakes his head as his hands slide over my breasts. “But there are others that might end up being the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

  He levers himself upright, bringing our faces together until only centimeters separate our mouths. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me against the hard planes of his chest.

  I love how safe I always feel with him.

  He didn’t have to come to my rescue at the bar tonight for me to feel that way. Carter is just strong and capable and confident. I’ll always feel protected around him, in all ways.

  “You say when we react emotionally, it tends to result in ugly, irrational decisions,” he whispers against my parted lips. “I’ve done nothing but react emotionally with you, darlin’. And I think we can both agree it’s been a little irrational. But not once has it ever been ugly. Far fucking from it.”

  He fuses our mouths together without giving me the chance to respond.

  And for the rest of the night, he reaffirms for me how little I regret acting on the impulse to choose him as my rebound.

  Although, that term is sounding less and less appropriate for what’s happening between me and Carter.

  But because I can’t go from rebound to relationship a week after my divorce without getting dizzy, I remind myself this thing with him is just what I said: a beautiful impulse.

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  Liar.

  God, my inner voice is such a ho.

  “You sure it’s still too early for me to meet your father?” Carter asks, stepping up behind me at the full-length mirror where I’m putting on my earrings.

  I snort sarcastically. “Introducing a new guy a mere week after divorcing from the biggest mistake of my life? I’m not trying to give the man a stroke.”

  “I suppose that would be cruel.” He lays a kiss on my shoulder. “But I’ll let it go since you called me your new guy.”

  I’m having brunch with Daddy and Rachelle at one of our favorite downtown cafés. The idea of bringing Carter along crossed my mind for about half a second before I shoved it right the hell back out. He may have already met my friends and scored with them, but it is way, way too soon for parental introductions.

  Besides, after my four-year long train wreck with Grant, there’s a good chance Daddy’s planning on brandishing a weapon the next time I introduce him to a man. No sense in loading him up with more ammunition, now is there?

  Carter grabs his wallet and keys, herding me toward the door. “Are you sure you’re okay to walk back to Gretchen’s afterwards?”

  “Of course. The café is only a few blocks from her loft. I’ve got to grade some papers from my Thursday night class, so I’ll have a full afternoon.”

  He groans. “Stop saying sexy things if I can’t keep you with me all day. I already want to make you come sit in my office like a wall ornament so I can look at you whenever I want.”

  “But when will you get your work done?” I ask, making a pouty face.

  “Whenever you go to the bathroom and are out of my sight.”

  I pat him on the cheek before planting a kiss on it. “I think you’ll survive, Counselor.”

  Then I pat him on his lower cheek, giggling when he returns the gesture.

 
He leads the way downstairs and out the back door where we get into his car.

  After ten minutes of navigating through mid-morning traffic, he rolls to a stop at the curb in front of the café. “We’re a little early.” He glances down at his watch. “If I didn’t have that client meeting in twenty minutes—”

  I silence him with a kiss. “It’s fine. Go to work. I’m sure they won’t be long. Plus, there are these things called mimosas that make for great company.”

  He chuckles. “You know, I think I’ve heard of them.”

  I grab my purse, leave him with one final kiss, and step out onto the sidewalk. I approach the outdoor hostess stand where the smiling woman happily leads me to a table beneath the huge vine-draped pergola covering the outdoor patio. The shade is welcome reprieve, considering the sun is already rising high enough in the sky to uncomfortably beat down on my head.

  I reach inside my purse for my phone to check for any texts from Daddy or Rachelle—

  Shit.

  No phone.

  I left it in the cup holder in Carter’s car. Which means I’ll have to take a cab over to his office to pick it up after brunch since my car is still at Gretchen’s. The fare will be a pain in the ass, but at least I’ll get to see him again.

  Only about three minutes pass after the waitress takes my drink order when the man himself appears at the patio entrance. He spots me waving at him from my table and holds up my phone.

  He came back just to drop it off.

  Even though he has a meeting with a client.

  I need this man to screw up somehow.

  Screw up in a way that will calm the roiling emotions inside my chest. Messy ones, like awe and devotion and…love.

  Seeing that my father and stepmother have yet to arrive, he walks over to the table.

  I stand up and take the phone with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I just realized I was missing it.”

  “No problem.” Then he leans closer to my ear to whisper, “How will you send me dirty texts and naked pictures if you don’t have your phone?”

  “That’s called sexting, old man, and we millennials are taught that it’s a very dangerous thing to do. How do I know you won’t post those on the internet?”

  He growls from the back of his throat. “Considering I’d want to rip out the eyes of any man who saw you naked, I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

  I laugh and am about to brush my lips with his when I hear it.

  “Sloane?”

  I whirl around as if I’ve been caught making out with my boyfriend inside a steamed-out car after curfew.

  “Hi, Daddy.” I ignore his wide-eyed expression and lean forward to hug him and Rachelle. “Nice to see you both.”

  “You too, sweetie,” she says, casting curious glances at Carter.

  But Daddy hasn’t said a word.

  Or moved a muscle. He’s just staring at Carter in complete astonishment.

  I try not to shrink at his reaction. Yeah, so I wasn’t planning on introducing my father to my…Carter today, but it would be rude not to at this point. Especially considering how the scene they stumbled upon probably looked. Our close, intimate stance, the proximity of our mouths, the placement of our hands.

  Best get it over with.

  I step back and wave to Carter, who is staring at my father with the strangest look of horror plastered on his gorgeous face. Puzzlement grows inside me as I glance between the two men.

  “Daddy, this is—”

  “You.”

  My eyes widen at Daddy’s acrid tone. His eyes are shooting venom-tipped darts at Carter, pure vehemence glinting in them.

  “No,” Carter breathes, terror building in his expression, impending doom in his voice. “This is impossible.”

  What’s impossible?

  “Carter?” I speak slowly. “This is my father, Jeremiah Williams.”

  Carter immediately backs away as if burned by Daddy’s presence, thrusting his hands through his hair. “Williams is such a common last name,” he mumbles almost to himself. “I never made the connection.”

  I shake my head to clear it of all the cobwebs, but it doesn’t work.

  At least I’m not the only lost one. Rachelle looks just as perplexed as I do, eyes darting between the three of us.

  “I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” I ask.

  Daddy narrows his eyes. “Oh, you could say we know each other. My question is, how do you know my daughter, Carter Van Gordon?”

  Carter pinches the bridge of his nose but doesn’t answer.

  “He’s my…” I decide to go with the answer that seems safer right now, considering Daddy looks downright murderous. “Divorce attorney.”

  Daddy’s laughter is flat and mirthless, making me flinch. “You’ve got to be kidding. Of all the lawyers in Charleston.”

  “Someone want to explain what the hell is going on?” I look expectantly at Carter, who still appears shocked to his core.

  Daddy jabs his finger in Carter’s direction. “This is the bastard who’s almost single-handedly responsible for bankrupting my company.”

  Rachelle gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

  It’s like I just stepped in quick sand.

  Dread is pulling me down and down until I can’t breathe…

  Oh, God, I think I’m drowning.

  “The big case you left corporate law for was my father’s?” I demand from Carter. “He was your personal vendetta?”

  Carter’s gaze is downcast. He’s just staring, unblinking, at the ground in disbelief.

  But his non-answer is all the confirmation I need.

  I look back to my father. “You’re the man his wife cheated on him with?”

  Daddy finally swings his frustrated eyes to me. “I never knew she was married! She never so much as hinted at it. How many times do I have to say that? I didn’t know.”

  Up until two days ago, I’d never once experienced anything close to a panic attack. Now, I’m trying to combat the second one in a forty-eight-hour period. I’m sucking in ragged breaths, struggling not to pass out.

  “You want to know why you’ve got student loan debt?” Daddy snaps to me while glowering at Carter. “You want to know why we had to sell your grandmother’s heirloom jewelry when you were fifteen? Or why you wore a third-hand dress to your senior prom? Or why I couldn’t afford to buy you a better car than the steel hunk of a death trap you drive?” He takes a menacing step toward the man beside me. “Look no further than this entitled, privileged asshole right here.”

  “Jeremiah,” Rachelle chides.

  I know we’re garnering attention from surrounding tables, but I can’t muster up enough will to care. All I can really process right now is that the man I’ve been rapidly falling for is responsible for pushing my beloved father to the bottom and almost to his breaking point.

  Memories flash through my mind, one after another. Daddy passed out on the living room couch, an empty whiskey bottle lying on the floor. Daddy locked inside his office at home, screaming at creditors on the phone, begging for an extension on his payments. Daddy going to his first AA meeting, looking so dejected and hopeless, it still brings tears to my eyes.

  Carter was the catalyst for all of it.

  How in the actual hell is this happening?

  Wait.

  I warily turn back to the man whose bed I’ve shared for the last three nights, afraid to even voice this fear. “Have you known who I was all along? Did you know from the beginning?”

  Dear God, please say this hasn’t been some sick extension of his revenge.

  He flinches as if I slapped him. “Christ, no. I never would have showed up at that bar in the first place if I knew who you were.”

  Ouch.

  “But you said you weren’t sure if you regretted what you did or not,” I remind him. “Did you know about me back then? Did you know the man you were trying to destroy had a child of his own?”

  Carter’s shoulders slump. “All I knew
was that he had a daughter. That’s all.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “And yet you still went after him.”

  Carter’s devastated gaze finally meets mine. “I told you I wasn’t a good person back then, darlin’. But I swear I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed.”

  I see Daddy looking back and forth between us out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t look away from Carter. I need this to not be real right now. I need him to tell me it’s all some cruel joke.

  But because his hazel eyes have a way of trapping me in their hold, I see every fleck of truth shining in them.

  “What do you mean ‘showed up at that bar?” Daddy demands, his voice as cold as ice. “Are you sleeping with my daughter?”

  Neither of us answers.

  But our body language and expressions can’t lie.

  Rachelle jumps in front of Daddy when he charges forward. “You son of a bitch. Like you haven’t done enough to this family, you go after my daughter the second she gets divorced from another asshole? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Pulling out of our eye contact, Carter faces my father. “I deserve your hatred, sir. All of it. My actions were extremely misguided years ago, and an apology will never be enough to make up for what I did. I wasn’t an honorable man back then. But my intentions toward your daughter would never be anything but honorable. I would never intentionally hurt her.”

  Daddy breathes hard through his nose, his temper clearly teetering on the edge. “Twenty years of my hard work and sacrifice went down the drain because of you. You’re not good enough for her. You never will be. Because men like you, the ones who throw their weight around and never care who they’re hurting in the process, you never change.” He turns his back on Carter as if he can’t stand to even look at him anymore. “This is unbelievable.”

  I don’t know if I’m heartbroken, outraged, or still in a suspended state of denial as I stare pleadingly at Carter through watery eyes.

  “It was you this whole time,” I whisper brokenly.

  “I’m so sorry,” he grates out. “You have no idea how much I wish I could turn back time and fix everything.”

  He looks so completely lost. I can just imagine that’s exactly how he looked when he found out his ex-wife was having an affair.