by Lulu Pratt
“Absolutely.” Ronnie nods. “This is sensitive material and it’s important to know who you are dealing with. I don’t work with anyone I can’t meet face-to-face. My job is information, not falsehoods or assumptions.”
“Understood. This is a large reason why I wanted to meet with you. While I need this small leak to turn into a flood, I want to be sure I trust who is going to handle it.”
Ronnie nods and launches into several anecdotes to emphasize the effectiveness of his approach. I nod politely like I’m listening, but I’m not. Truth is, I don’t give a shit about anyone else’s story. He’s been research thoroughly and I know he’s the guy to handle this.
Yes, I could have just slipped several copies of these photos of Kate and me under the doors of a dozen tabloid offices, but I want to make sure this is handled properly. It needs to be definitive, not something that can be argued haphazardly in court to draw it out.
Every day I’m attached to David is one more day I’d rather shoot a nail in my eye. As for Kate, I’ll be happy to have this entire thing finished so I can go fuck a whole line of chorus girls. Whatever needs to be done to get the imprint of her body against mine eradicated.
If there’s one thing I’m exceptional at, it’s finding a new girl. I need to cut her out of my brain and heart as soon as possible. That means lots and lots of girls. Maybe an orgy. Maybe I’ll find one of those secret underground sex clubs. Maybe I’ll walk down Rodeo Drive stark naked.
The world is my oyster.
“What’s the weirdest case you’ve handled?” Ronnie asks. His tone changes and pulls me from my daydreams of Kate. I never know how to respond to those dreams anymore aside from drinking heavily, so I’m glad for the pull. “I’ve always found your job so interesting.”
“A few years ago, my client accused his wife of catfishing. It sounded insane at first, because they were married for a decade, you know? Turns out she lied about being an immigrant bride. The whole thing was an act. She didn’t come from the Ukraine, she came from Minnesota of all fucking places.”
“From Minnesota to the Ukraine, eh?”
“She nailed that fucking accent, Ronnie. That was definitely one of the weirder cases I’ve handled. Not going to lie, though, it was fun as hell. Discovering her secret identity was the most fun I’d had researching in ages.”
“I bet the reveal was even better.” Ronnie grins.
“I wish the damn thing was televised. It was the most beautiful fall from grace I’d ever seen. Top-five moment, hands down.” I say. “The husband was so grateful I got to the bottom of everything, he gave me a massive bonus.”
“Wait, wait.” Ronnie shakes his head. “Was the bonus like a hundred grand and a trip to Paris on his private jet?”
“That’s the one!” I nod. “God, that was a great trip, too. Took my boys with me and we tore up the town. Of course, I blew most of the money on that trip. Gambling, top-shelf booze, Amsterdam. We lived it up. The rest went to student loans. Should have dumped the whole thing in, I suppose, but fuck, it was a great trip.”
“I remember reading about that. Had no idea it was you. Well done, Eric. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.” I extend my fingers out a bit in a show of humility, even though I bask in the complement. “What about you? Surely you’ve seen a ton of crazy doing what you do.”
“Name it, I’ve seen it.” Ronnie nods. “Actually, the weirdest shit is usually from people trying to make something out of nothing. When they try to stack situations against their ex, you know?”
“People do that?” I ask. Guilty as charged, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Given your industry, are you really surprised?” Ronnie cocks an eyebrow. “There was a high-profile divorce going on a few years back that we got pulled into. The husband tried to frame the wife for having an affair. Except the dumbass had pictures taken of himself. He paid me, so I circulated them, but it became very clear very fast he was the guy in the pictures.”
“Allen Rodgers. I remember that.”
“Yeah. Our staff PI actually catches a lot of spouses sneaking around with each other. They try to get in one last fuck before the papers are signed. Far as I understand it, the other spouse lets them in to try to settle, but it never works out that way. I don’t know how you deal with this industry, man.”
“I don’t either.” I offer a thin smile, but the wheels in my brain started wheeling. Tension was always tight between Kate and David, and I confirmed with her doorman he’d been over to her place with a bouquet of roses. It was the nail in the coffin for me. Could I fault Kate for sleeping with her ex to make the process less chaotic?
I shake it out of my head while Ronnie outlines his contract. I can’t slide back to Kate. I’m so close to being done with them forever. But if she was put in a position where she felt like she had to sleep with him…
“As you can see, it’s pretty air tight. We are successful at what we do for this reason. We don’t reveal sources and sources don’t reveal us.”
“Yet people still find you.”
“Only when we want to be found.” Ronnie offers a toothy grin. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve wanted some McArthur dirt.”
I look at the contract, but all I can see is Kate’s distressed face. David taking advantage of her so she won’t lose her livelihood. There’s always more to the story… isn’t there?
“I’ll look this over and get back to you.” I extend my hand. “Thank you for your time.”
“Look forward to hearing from you soon. Time is running out.”
It is. Which means I’ve got to figure this shit out fast.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
KATE
It’s shocking how quickly life can change. People walk across the street and end up dead every day. Someone comes home from work and finds their spouse cleaned out the apartment. Someone goes to sleep and wakes up a million miles away from home.
I take a pregnancy test and Lily moves into my apartment, short-term until we decide something better. What was once an amazing bachelorette pad with booze and frozen quiches turns into a den covered in baby magazines and formula samples.
“You should pull a Paltrow and name the baby after the food you eat the most during the pregnancy.” Lily says from behind a celebrity mama magazine. “Like Blueberry or Kumquat or something.”
“Kumquat?” I stare at her over my copy of Parenting. “I’m not a monster, Lily.”
“If someone names their kid Apple, you can go with Kumquat.”
“Yeah, but Apple doesn’t sound like postsex jizz.”
“What the hell is postsex jizz?”
“You know, after you have sex and it just keeps gushing?”
“I think that means there’s a problem.” Lily laughs. “Who the hell does that?”
“David.” I shrug. “He should probably see a doctor then, I don’t know. I don’t have a dick so I thought it was normal.”
“Nothing about him is normal.”
“Preach.” Lily pauses. “Actually. I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
I tense, trying to force up walls before she says anything. None of these conversations that start with “I’ve been meaning to ask” end with something pleasant. Like “do you like chocolate-covered almonds, because I have some” or “do you want this free-massage coupon at Rainfall?” No, it’s always terrible.
“It’s been a few days. Have you considered talking to David?”
“No.” I hide behind the magazine so she doesn’t see the look of hurt-filled terror on my face.
As if I’d do anything with that asshole ever again. He complicated my life in one-hundred different ways before this even happened. I was finally starting to feel relaxed. I got to taste freedom. And then he roped me back in with a freaking fetus.
“Give it a few days and see if you have a change of heart. This is a big deal.”
“No David ever again.” I swallow down a sharp lump in my throat. “I guess I haven’t told yo
u about the most recent messages, then.”
“No.” Lily smacks her magazine on the couch. “What did he do now?”
“Oh, usual David shit.” I try to sound airy about it, like it doesn’t bother me. The complete opposite is true, but there’s that saying about faking it until you make it, right? “He’s threatening me with more bad press if I don’t agree to settle outside of court.”
“With what? Stories about how you wouldn’t suck his microscopic dick?” Lily snorts. “What an ass.”
“I guess? He doesn’t stop though, Lily. I swear, every time I set down my phone, he sends me another message. Tells me I belong to him. Tells me he’ll ruin me. Tells me he’ll follow me if he has to.”
“Kate.” Lily turns serious. “Report his ass. Call the cops.”
“He’s just trying to bully me.” I shrug even though my stomach clenches. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s very much a big fucking deal. Call the cops. At the very least call Vivian so she can document this shit.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll send her screenshots.”
We fall into silence. The worst part of all this is I feel I have no excuse. Sure, I should have reported him… but I didn’t. I should have kept him outside my apartment every time he came over… but I didn’t.
I should have remained celibate and never fallen for his lawyer… but I didn’t.
Tears prick at my eyes and I brush them away before they can form. I’m done with crying. I’m done with worrying over a stupid man. God help me if this baby is a boy.
“Have you talked to Eric since you found out?”
“No. He was very clear about never hearing from me again.” I turn the page so hard I get a paper cut. As much as it hurts, it’s almost a relief to feel pain somewhere else besides in my head and my heart.
And my digestive tract.
“That’s probably for the best. We don’t need him thinking he’s got something over you too.”
“No man will have something over me ever again.”
“They aren’t all bad.” Lily says, but backtracks. “Never mind.”
“No, it’s okay.” I force a smile. “I know you’re really happy with the new guy. Don’t feel like you have to hide it from me.”
“I just feel so bad.” Lily smile meekly. “You’re in such a bad place.”
“Let me live vicariously through your joy. Remind me there is goodness out there. Remind me the Y-chromosome isn’t exclusively terrible.”
“I can do that.”
Silence again. It’s thick and sits uneasy against my skin. Pretending to be happy for Lily took more energy than I expected. And despite reading numerous blogs about having kids despite terrible life situations, or having kids when they didn’t want them, no one managed to make me feel better about this whole thing.
Maybe I am still in shock, but there is no way to feel better. Everything is lose-lose, but the only person who suffers is me. David gets out of this scotch-free. He won’t even have to know while I’m making plans to change my entire life.
“What about adoption?” Lily asks, moving next to me. “Then you don’t have to go through the life-altering changes of raising a baby.”
“I’ve thought about it.” I say noncommittally. “Honestly, Lily, I don’t know that I go through that heartache. I wish I could just… undo it.”
“I know.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s not fair. After everything that has happened over the last year, this is the last thing that needed to happen. But we’ll get through it together. We will.”
“Thank you.” I rest my head against hers. “I don’t think I’d make it through this without you. Truly.”
“Chicks before dicks, Kate. Always.”
“Maybe I should just leave the country after the divorce is done.” I say slowly. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, underneath all the freak-outs and stress. “I don’t want to be anywhere near David. No matter what I choose to do, I don’t want him involved at all, you know? Maybe I’ll go to France or Spain or something and have the baby there. No cameras, no David. The tiniest shred of privacy.”
“Hey, that’s an idea.” Lily encourages. “You can relax by the water and take it easy. Pregnancy is already difficult. Adding extra stress from being here isn’t good for either of you.”
“Exactly. Maybe my mom will come with me.”
“Have you told her yet?”
“You’re the only one who knows.” I shake my head. “Can’t bring myself to say the words.”
“No one needs to know even if you were about to pop. We’ll find clever ways to hide you, like they do on sitcoms. Fluffy scarves, big bags, things like that.”
“This is why you’re my best friend. You have great ideas. We’ll just get out of here and disappear into the fray. Let’s go now.”
“Soon.” Lily promises. “Soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ERIC
A note sits on top of the files on my desk. Sophie’s stack, not Sophie’s writing.
Ask Paxton about his girlfriend.
I tap a pen against the desk, debating. There’s clearly something going on here. I didn’t know Paxton had a girlfriend and I have no idea why someone would want me to ask about it unless it was something important.
A small piece of me wants it to be about Kate. In what capacity, I don’t know. If Kate is his new girlfriend, I’d kill him. I know that as certain as I know my own name. If he touches her — gone.
I don’t think he’d do that to me, though. There are established bro codes, rules we all live by. No matter the shit he gave me about sleeping with her, he would never go behind my back to do anything with her.
I ball up the note and throw it in the trash. If Paxton wants to tell me about his new girlfriend, he can come tell me about his new fucking girlfriend. I have work to do.
Inside the first file is another note: No seriously. Go ask him.
Goddammit.
There’s a similar note in the front of each of the files. It’s not Paxton’s handwriting, either. No way would that asshole write these. We’re an office of fifty attorneys, covering every type of law. It could have been anyone.
“All right.” I find myself in Paxton’s office, curiosity driving me more than anything. “Tell me about your new girlfriend.”
“What are you talking about?” He doesn’t look up from his sea of paperwork. Criminal law has always turned me off for this very reason. Too much work.
“I’m supposed to ask you about your new girlfriend. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“You never asked.”
“Am I supposed to?”
“We talked a lot about the ass you were pounding over the last few weeks.”
“Touché.” I drop into a chair in front of him. “Who’s the unlucky lady?”
Paxton keeps typing away and doesn’t look at me. I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but I don’t like it. Ever since we saw David’s interview in the bar, he’s acted weird. His obsession with my case was abnormal to begin with, but now it’s downright unsettling.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Lily.”
Alarms shoot off in my brain. Kate’s best friend, whom she talked about a lot, is a Lily. Her partner in all her charity work. How common could that name be?
“What does she do?”
“Me.”
“Funny.”
He closes his laptop and crosses his hands over top of it. This whole exchange is uncomfortable as fuck. I cross my arms to join in his powerplay bullshit.
“What do you want, Eric?”
“I want to know why someone told me I should talk to you about your new girlfriend.”
“I don’t have that answer.”
“She’s Kate’s friend, isn’t she?” He doesn’t say anything, which is answer enough for me. “The fuck, man? Why didn’t you say shit?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. You aren’t
working with Lily’s ex.”
“No, just her best friend. Which means Lily knows everything. Which means you probably know everything.”
“You may have come up.”
“Is that why you were pushing me so hard to go after her? I thought Lily was her best friend. What the hell, Pax? Is Lily trying to ruin her, too? What the fuck kind of games are you playing?”
“No games, man. This is your fucking job. Your job is to represent that slime bag. You can also get seriously fucked by screwing around with his wife — his wife, bro, because they are still legally married — and you’re already on thin ice with the state for doing this shit before.”
“You help me stage photos of innocent women. Now you get to play moral high ground?”
“I told you to stop fucking around with her.”
“You told me to smear our fake ass pictures all over the city. You don’t get to pretend you’re better than me.”
“I just wanted you to do your job.” Paxton is frustrated and I don’t understand why. “I knew you wouldn’t actually send them out. I know you gave a shit about this girl. But you were going to fuck over the entire firm if you fucked over David in this case.”
“That’s what this is about?” I stare at him, struggling to rectify the man I know versus the man talking. “You think I’m going to fuck over the firm, so you push me to do some dumb shit with the woman I was crazy about?”
“I knew you had a thing for her.”
“This is not the time to gloat, asshole. What do you know?” I narrow my eyes at him. “What have you been hiding from me? We are supposed to be boys, brothers.”
“David would sue the fuck out of us if he found out you were fucking his wife. And he would have a decent case against us. It was self-preservation.”
“You’re a real piece of shit, know that?”
“I think you should go.” Paxton opens his laptop and shuffles around some papers. “I’ve got trial in the morning.”
“I don’t give a shit.” I slam the lid of his laptop closed. “Paxton. Please. How is she?”
Paxton exhales slowly and checks his watch. He’s at war with himself for reasons I still can’t fucking comprehend. All I can think is she’s dying and panic starts to set in.