Page 10 of The Reality of Us
He’d handled enough high-profile cases at his old firm to know there’d be a media shitstorm when this got out. The paparazzi would triple within hours. “From Phoenix Storm?”
Signs from the universe weren’t his thing, but Owen had always believed in opportunities and standing in front of him—admittedly, in a skirt that looked like a distant relative of Big Bird’s had met an untimely demise—was one too big to pass up. A case like this could put his fledgling business on the map.
“Let’s go to my office.” He gestured towards the hallway. “I’ll lock up, so no one interrupts us.”
Alice nodded stiffly, the sleek line of her jaw jerking twice before she stalked past him. He caught a whiff of her perfume. It was light and subtle, with a hint of something flowery—a total juxtaposition to her outlandish outfit. He flipped the deadbolt and closed the blinds before following her.
When Owen entered his office, Alice was sitting in the chair in front of his desk, hands folded primly in front of her handbag, her face impressively blank. Owen would’ve believed the façade if her pulse wasn’t noticeably thrumming in her neck.
He rested his elbows on his desk, his gaze catching on the flagged emails in his inbox. There was a new one from his builder with the subject line, Delayed materials + new quote. Bad news, no doubt. When Alice didn’t say anything and avoided his gaze, Owen broke the silence.
“I looked you up,” he said. “People are really invested in your life and marriage.”
Her blue eyes snapped up. A small flush bloomed on her neck, skating towards her cleavage. “Which is why I need this divorce to happen quickly. How can we make that happen?”
He pushed back into his chair, the leather moulding to his frame. “It depends.”
Alice huffed out a dry laugh, the muted light from his office window sliding across her face as she shook her head. “On?”
“Did you have a pre-nup? How many assets do you have? Do you have children …” There hadn’t been any mentioned in the articles he’d read, but he had to ask.
Alice’s mouth fell open, but she clamped it shut before spitting, “You think I’m the kind of person who’d leave her children behind? With a cheating ex?”
Years of listening to depositions without reacting usually allowed Owen to keep his voice devoid of colour and depth, but her anger made him uneasy. “I don’t think anything,” he said, the edges of his words harder than normal. He softened his tone—because really, he needed her more than she needed him right now. “I’m trying to establish the facts. That’s all.”
Alice fiddled with her hair. “There is something you should know.”
The wooden desk was hard under Owen’s arms as he leant forward.
She took a deep breath, her face pinching, shoulders rounding. It was like looking behind a stage curtain, seeing something he shouldn’t. Gone was the brash, fiery Alice he’d always encountered before. A pit opened in his stomach. His years at Malus, Mendax and Associates had reinforced that things were never what they seemed, especially when any sort of fame was involved. “Alice?”
She tugged at her skirt, trying to smooth the feathers so they lay flat. And then the weakness was gone. He imagined armour layering itself across her skin as she pursed her lips and straightened her chin so their gazes met.
“Cash flow is a minor issue at the moment.”
She almost had him convinced of her indifference to her current situation, but the flush staining her neck and chest had spread to her face, her cheeks like two red apples.
Owen opened his mouth to say they could sort out the money later because this was an opportunity too good to be missed. But Alice cut him off, one perfectly manicured hand lifting into the air, a slight sheen to her cheeks and forehead. “I’ll figure something out,” she said. “But I need a divorce. Fast.”
She held his gaze for a beat, her pools of blue drawing him in. One of the things he’d always loved about his job was sorting through problems. The challenge of using the law to find solutions. Helping people.
That must be why he found her so intriguing.
He shook his head to clear it and picked up the leather, monogrammed folio his parents bought him when he graduated.
“Then we’d better get started then, hadn’t we?”
Even though Alice was sitting down, she was sure she was falling. She looked at her banking app again and adjusted her glasses like they were the problem. By her calculations—and she suppressed a shudder at having to trust her mathematical skills—her ‘small cash flow issue’ meant she’d be homeless by the weekend. Soon her parents would notice the charges she was sneaking on to their emergency credit card.
A text cut through the heavy silence in the room.
Dougie: Alley Cat, consider this a friendly, casual welfare check from your fave brother. We miss you. When are you coming home?
Alice sighed.
Alice: Not soon. I’ve hired a divorce lawyer. No offence. Tell Mum and Dad, please. Call later. Promise.
She flopped back on the bed. At least this would give her family something to talk about at their biannual ‘How Do We Solve A Problem Like Alice’ catch-up. It’d pair nicely with their favourite champagne and her mother’s famous salmon puffs with dill dressing.
