Page 11 of Belle Amour

“I fully admit to having a cheat sheet note on my phone with everyone’s usual drink orders on it,” Bastian replied as he sat across from her. He would also always arrive early and order the drink for his clients. It was a small gesture that helped establish a relationship and showed that he cared and paid attention to them. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Not as sad about my marriage ending as you’d think I’d be.” Marie took a sip of her latte and closed her eyes, savouring the taste. “Best in the entire city, I swear.” She murmured with a content sigh. “So, divorce. What are the first steps?”

Bastian chuckled. He thought matcha tasted like grass and dirt but to each their own. “First, I need to confirm that both you and John were residents of New York State for at least the last two years.”

“Both life-long residents of NYC,” Marie confirmed with a nod. “What would happen if we weren’t?”

“We’d have to file for divorce in the state you lived together the longest,” Bastian explained as he made the note. He’d been pretty sure they had lived in New York the entire time they were married, but he wanted to be sure. “Next, we have to decide what type of divorce we’re filing for, and this is where things get a little dicey.” He cleared his throat and met her eyes. “We need grounds to file for a divorce. There are seven “acceptable” reasons, but you only have two to choose from. The first one is that we file for a legal separation, and once you’ve lived apart for six months, we can file for a divorce. The second is called an irretrievable breakdown of the relationship, and you would have to swear under oath that your relationship has been broken down for at least six months.”

“I’m willing to do that.” Marie held her cup in both hands. “I’ve been miserable since Kelly moved in after Kade was born. I’ve been keeping track of everything, too. I have screenshots oftext exchanges going back at least a year, begging John to get therapy for his unhealthy attachment to Kelly and do couples therapy with me. I have audio recordings of arguments, not because I wanted to use them against him, but because he would promise something, not follow through, and then try to tell me he never said what he said. When I realized it had to come down to her or me, and I knew damn well it was going to be her, I gathered everything together.” She pulled out a USB and handed it to Bastian. “And Mirabelle might have sent me your rules for your clients a while back.”

“Of course she did.” Bastian smiled and looked down, hurriedly finishing the last of his expresso. “What do you want out of this? Do you want a clean break? Do you think mediation will work, and it will be an uncontested divorce?”

“I want the house.” She folded her arms and set her jaw stubbornly. “It has both our names on the mortgage, butI’mthe one who made it a home. John didn’t care what I did, never gave any input into anything, and never paid for any of the renovations I had done. It’smyhome, Bast, not his.” Tears sprung to her eyes, and Bastian reached for her hand, squeezing lightly and smiling reassuringly at her.

“Do you think he’s going to fight you for it?” He asked calmly. “It sounds like he doesn’t care.”

“We had the property value reassessed three years ago. It's worth a couple hundred grand more now than it was when we bought it, and with the way the cost of housing has gone up lately, I’m sure it's worth more again now.” She explained, squeezing his hand back and then letting go to grab a napkin, dabbing at the corner of her eyes.

“You have proof that it’s been your money only that was used for renovations over the years?” He asked, his mind working quickly as he went over the potential arguments thatcould be made in court and the outcomes of each one. “Because the house is in both your names, you will have to buy him out at fair market value, but if I can prove that he hasn’t put the same amount of investment in and that the renovations you made are at least partially responsible for the increase in value, I might be able to get that amount removed from what you have to pay out.”

She nodded, looking marginally happier. “Yes, I have excellent records, don’t worry. I’ve always known on some level that this marriage wouldn’t work out because of Kelly. I loved him enough at the time to just be happy with what I got, but since she moved in…” Marie shuddered. “I just can’t do it anymore. He treats her like she’s still ten years old and is as pure and innocent as an angel.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Bastian shook his head, remembering John’s muttered protests about her being his daughter in response to his criticisms of her. “I’m impressed you put up with it as long as you did.”

“When she lived in the Bronx, and I only had to see her on holidays, it was fine. Living with her is another beast altogether.” Marie put her chin in her hand. “And I tried. No one can say I didn’t try my best to come up with some sort of solution, but with his complete spinelessness when it comes to her, I’ve lost all the love and respect I had for him.”

They spent the next half hour going over what Bastian wanted her to do in order to obtain the best possible results for her case. He instructed her to move back in so John couldn’t claim she had abandoned the home, advised on sleeping in separate rooms, and emphasized that having sex with John would cause problems for her and that getting him and Kelly to leave the house would be in her best interests. All conversations with both John and Kelly should be either through texts or recorded, and if at any time she felt unsafe, call him and 9-1-1immediately. He informed her of his rates, giving her the same rate he had given Mirabelle, waving his regular fees and only charging to cover costs associated with filing with the court and administrative things.

After the meeting, Bastian walked Marie to her car and asked the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since they started talking. “You don’t have to tell me, but I have to ask, do you know where she is? Is she okay?”

He saw a quick flash of pity cross her face, and after a moment, she sighed and nodded. “Yes, I know where she is; no, I won’t tell you.” Marie tilted her head from left to right. “Okay is subjective. She’s safe, and she’ll be back late Sunday night, but she’s hurt and not sure what she wants to do. She’s even considering leaving New York.”

Bastian felt his blood run cold, and he came to a stop, swallowing hard. Leave New York? “Look, I know I fucked up, but I really was doing everything I could to get us out of there as quickly as I could. I just wanted to keep the peace so John and Kelly wouldn’t realize we were about to leave and take most of our client list with us.” He covered his face with his hands, leaning against a nearby bench as he struggled to control his breathing. “She's been my best friend since we were eight, Marie. I don't know how to live without her.”

“Well, the good news is, she doesn't know how to live without you either, but the fact that she's decided to try means you have some serious explaining and apologizing to do. You have until Monday to get your ducks in a row.” Marie patted his arm. “And, Honey, I advise you to get on that.”

Bastian nodded, the tightness in his chest easing somewhat.” “I intend to; I’m actually meeting with someone after this to do just that.” He smiled and started walking towardher car again. When they reached it, he gave her another hug, “Thank you for listening to me whine.”

“I love you both,” Marie hugged him back and fixed his tie when they separated. “But you're both stupid and blind when it comes to each other. For God's sake, Bastian, don't let her get away this time.”

Chapter Nine: Heart Attack

The rest of Bastian’s week went by quickly. He was up every morning by seven and out of the condo by eight. Not having to work around his office schedule allowed him to be more present and put all his energy into doing what he had been working on in the evenings since John confirmed Kelly was going to be working with them. He filed the divorce paperwork for Marie Tuesday afternoon, and Thursday morning, he got confirmation that his offer on an office space on 47thAvenue had been accepted. He went into the office early in the morning, well before anyone would be there and pulled all his client's contacts, downloading them to a portable hard drive along with their files.

While he waited for the files to transfer, he looked around and could tell someone had been going through his things. Fortunately, he and Mirabelle had scanned everything into the computer shortly after John told Bastian he was hiring Kelly under the guise of going paperless, something Mirabelle had been pushing for the whole office to adopt. All the hard copies had been shredded, and from then on, the only paperwork that was printed was things that needed a signature. After it was signed, it was scanned and shredded. When he was done, he did the same with Mirabelle’s computer, and then he brought the hard drive to his car and locked it in the glove compartment. He wasn’t technically poaching the clients because he was a partner; they were his, not the firms, but he knew John would deny himaccess to the computer after he resigned and would demand the passwords. While he waited for John and Kelly to arrive, he wiped both his and Mirabelle’s computers of anything that was remotely personal or not work-related. Even going so far as to delete saved and bookmarked web pages and thoroughly wipe the history and cookies.

John and Kelly arrived shortly after nine, arguing loudly. Bastian walked out to see Kelly sitting resentfully in the receptionist’s chair, with John telling her she was on receptionist duty until he found someone else. When he looked up and saw Bastian, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. I’m up to my armpits in paperwork, and this one,” He gestured at Kelly in agitation. “Couldn’t find her own ass with a mirror on a stick.”

Bastian pressed his lips together to hold back the smile that was threatening while Killy glared at her father, but just let out an annoyed huff of air without saying anything. It had taken John less than three days of working alone with Kelly to stop defending her. “I’m sorry, John.” He said, following John into his office while pulling out his resignation letter from his inside breast pocket. “I’m not here to work. I’m resigning.” He laid the letter on his desk and slid it across to him.

John stared at the envelope like it was a snake threatening to bite. “You can’t be serious, Bast, I know the lack of support staff is a pain in the ass, but I’m working on it.” He looked up at him pleadingly. “It’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving because of that.” Bastian nudged the letter. “I go into more detail in this, but three years ago, you swore up and down that you would keep your daughter away from me so I wouldn’t press charges for fraud when she tried to say I was her baby’s father.”

John’s face went pink, and he ran his hand through his greying brown hair. “I figured you were over that by now.”

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