Page 31 of Don't Quit the Day Job

"It's fine," I say, offering him a sincere smile. "You and I had banter...this guy was just a dick."

Max's lips twitch. "He was a dick, wasn't he?"

"And if I'm being honest, I just don't trust him," I say quickly.

"What do you mean?" he asks as we get out of the elevator and walk toward the lobby to wait for Henry to pick us up.

"I just don't think someone like Jack Whittington is going to a sex club with his wife so that they can both watch. It just doesn't ring true to me. The type of man that's flirting with me the first time he meets me is not going to a sex club just to watch people experiment."

Max tilts his head to the side. "You may have a point there."

"So what are you going to do about it?" I ask, crossing my arms.

He stares at me blankly. "What do you mean what am I going to do about it?"

"I mean, if there's more to the story than what he's saying, then we should find out because it's not fair to Mrs. Whittington."

"Life is not about what's fair. The law is not about what's fair," he signals to Henry and we step forward. "The firm represents Jack Whittington and we will try to get him what he wants."

"But that just doesn't seem right." I say, frowning.

"But nothing," he says, opening the back door for me. I slide into the back of the car and offer Henry a small wave. "I'll go through the paperwork and I'll present an offer to Mrs. Whittington in the next few days. She either takes it or she doesn't." He opens the file that Jack gave him and I watch him going through papers and photos. His eyes widen slightly before he closes it.

"What? What is it that was in there?" I ask him. "Can I see?"

"There are photos," he says as he glances at me and shakes his head. "Compromising photos."

"Of Mrs. Whittington?" I raise my eyebrows.

"I assume so," he says, nodding. "She's definitely naked on a bed with two men, neither of whom are Jack." He shrugs. "I think this will be a fairly open and shut case."

"But, that's awful." I stare at him and shift closer to him. "It just seems so wrong."

He shrugs. "She obviously knew the man she was marrying. Maybe she shouldn't have cheated?"

I stare at him for a couple of seconds. "I think there's more to the story, Max."

"What more could there be?" he says, holding up the folder. The proof is in the pudding."

"I guess. But who took the photos?" I shrug. "I'm not an attorney, and this is my first day as a paralegal?—”

“Assistant,” he interrupts, but I ignore him.

“So obviously I'm not an expert, but it just doesn't ring true. Where did the photos come from? He just happened to decide to take photos of her banging two other men? I just don't think it's fair that Mrs. Whittington is only going to get a hundred grand when her husband is worth hundreds of millions. And maybe there is more to the story."

"Like what?" he asks.

"I don't know. He's a pig and a slime ball. I just don't feel like a slime ball like that should get away with paying next to nothing."

"You don't know that she's not one as well."

"True," I say. "But..." I pause.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Can I at least meet her, have a conversation with her, see what her side is?"

He stares at me for a couple of seconds and sighs deeply. "Why do you want to do that?"

---