Page 105 of Say Yes to the Death

It was Monday, and that only meant one thing—mediation.

“So, what are we not going to do this morning?” Kyle asked as he held the door of the courtroom open.

“Get angry and flip the table over,” Claire muttered like a chastised child. How was she going to sit through an hours-long meeting with the woman who was determined to make her life hell without inflicting some kind of bodily harm? It would take a miracle. “You’re sure we shouldn’t even offer to cover her copays from the emergency room visit?”

“I really don’t think we’ll need to. I know John. He’s a good guy and a great mediator. He’ll see right through her circus. It’s going to be fine. Chances of achieving a favorable resolution in mediation are much higher than going in front of a judge.”

“I hope you’re right,” she muttered. If she had to pay Wendy a shitload of money on top of watching her sabotage her life on the daily, she was going to lose her mind.

“It’s the meeting room down the hall. Third door on the right. I’m just going to grab a coffee.” Kyle veered off in the other direction.

“Okay.” Claire wandered down the hall. A shiver went down her spine as she passed the annex where she’d awaited news from Barney’s preliminary hearing. Her prison visit was scheduled for next week, and she would be face-to-face with Barney Freakin’ Windsor. Not to mention his lawyer, Luke’s velociraptor of a mother, who was also sure to be there. She pushed the thought from her mind as she entered the meeting room. One crisis at a time.

The mediator, someone Kyle knew from law school, was already there.

“Hi, John,” she said, reaching out a hand to the portly, brown-haired man. His pants were an inch too short, and he wore blue socks with bulldogs on them. “I love your socks. I have a corgi at home.”

“Miss Hartley,” he said, returning her handshake and turning back to the material in front of him. Apparently, he wasn’t much of a talker. Or maybe as a mediator he wasn’t allowed to chat.

Claire settled into a swiveling office chair and put her purse in the one beside her. She pulled out a notebook with an elaborate “Mediation” label. If only Rosie were here. Mindy had taken her to the office.

Kyle walked in a moment later and sat next to Claire. He spread his notes out in front of him and glanced over them once more. “Remember,” he whispered to her, “you’re doing most of the talking. Stay calm and speak your heart. Don’t let her get in your head.”

“Thank you,” she whispered back.

Someone screamed in the hallway. Claire and Kyle jumped.

The door banged open. Wendy strutted into the room, clad in a fur shrug and a skintight blue dress. She wore a floppy-brimmed sun hat and sunglasses, like a celebrity avoiding the paparazzi. Her left arm was in a sling even though it surely hadn’t been when Claire had spotted her at the hotel. Interesting. “What do you mean we’re only going for half a mil? You promised me five mil.”

Claire’s heart thudded in her chest and her stomach twisted. Half a million dollars? While it wasn’t as terrifying an amount as five million dollars, they couldn’t seriously believe she had that much liquid cash on hand. She would lose everything.

“And I told you we had to be more reasonable about our expectations, Miss Flutter.” A harried-looking man in a suit followed her into the room and shut the door.

“I’ll fire you, you know. My dad says I can have whoever I want.” Wendy lowered her sunglasses and stared at her lawyer.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. His shoulders slumped like he was already resigned to a very long day. “John,” he said, extending a hand to the mediator.

John shook it. “Miss Flutter, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Wendy said, collapsing into the seat directly across from Claire with a humph. She didn’t bother to shake the mediator’s hand. Hopefully, that would work in Claire’s favor.

“Thank you both for joining us today. Miss Flutter and Miss Hartley, you haven’t participated in a mediation before, correct?”

The women both shook their head.

“Great. So, my name is John Garcia. I’m simply here to help you reach a resolution. If we can’t reach a resolution during today’s meeting with the two-hour time limit, we’ll continue to schedule individual and joint meetings until everything is resolved. You can confer with your attorneys, but generally in my mediations I like to hear directly from the participants so I can understand your unique situation. And on that note, please do not interrupt each other. You’ll each have a turn to explain your side. Understood?”

Claire nodded. It would take an act of god to prevent her from interrupting Wendy’s unending spew of lies, but she would give it her best shot.

“All right. It looks like we’re here to discuss an altercation that occurred on May 25th, which resulted in injuries for Miss Flutter. Miss Flutter, would you care to make your opening remarks?”

Wendy spit a wad of gum into her coffee cup. “Yeah. So, Claire here beat the shit out of me?—”

“Miss Flutter,” her lawyer warned.

Wendy sighed. “Me and my boyfriend went to leave this party and Miss Hartley attacked me. She owes me reparations for my medical bills and pain and suffering. Every night when I go to sleep, I have nightmares of her just sitting on top of me, hitting me. I had to go to therapy. Oh, and she got my boyfriend arrested.” She stood up and slammed her hands on the table. “I want five million dollars for the trauma.”

Her lawyer sighed. Claire gripped the edge of the table. Don’t flip it.