Page 24 of The Sexy Billionaire

They both shake their heads. “We didn’t want to out her to them. She needs to do it when she’s ready,” Lilly explains.

That’s fair.

Instead, I’m now stuck in limbo, waiting for them to sort their shit out.

8

PAIGE

“Thanks for coming with me today, I’m so nervous,” I tell Callie as we walk into the attorney’s office.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m here to help you. She will want to run through your options. Unfortunately, it’s not as easy to get divorced as you might like,” Callie warns me.

I want this entire situation over with. It’s been a week since I found Michael screwing the sous chef. I texted him to say I’m moving out of our home and in with my brother. He didn’t like it but said he would give me the space I needed to calm down. Like he has a choice in the matter. I’m done. We are over, and in the words of the great Taylor Swift, “We are never, ever, getting back together.”

Thankfully, Smith and some of his boys from the station helped me get my things and within a day, every trace of my existence in our marital home had been erased. I got an angry text later that night when Michael had finished at the restaurant about how empty the house was andwhy did I take everything of mine. I reminded him I needed space, but I reassured him that it was only temporary as I needed him to think there wasstill a chance, so I had time to visit with my attorney and file for divorce before him.

“Hi, Paige Johnson for Abigail Spence,” I say, greeting the receptionist.

She gives me a warm smile and tells us to follow her to the conference room where Abigail will meet us in about five minutes. She places a bottle of water and a couple of glasses in the middle of the table for us. I grab the bottle of water with shaky hands and pour Callie and myself a glass. I need something to do with my hands while I wait.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise you,” Callie tries to reassure me.

I nod but my insides feel like they are on a constant loop-de-loop. My anxiety is flooding the room, and I’m chewing my nails nervously. It’s the unknown that is freaking me out. What happens if Michael wants to fight this divorce? Especially if he knows about my inheritance. I don’t want to be locked in a battle with him for years. I want him out of my life for good.

Moments later, the glass door opens and in walks a sophisticated woman, not much older than us, with short black hair, dressed in a designer black suit with a red shirt and red sky-high heels.

“Callie, it’s so good to see you,” Abigail says, greeting Callie with a firm handshake. “And you must be Paige,” she says, offering her hand to me. “I’m sorry we are meeting under these circumstances,” she states, taking a seat on the other side of the conference table.

“I told Paige you were the right woman for the job,” Callie says.

“You’re too kind, but she’s not lying,” Abigail says with a chuckle, turning her attention to me. “Why don’t you explain to me why you are here today.”

Taking a deep breath and handing over the folder of paperwork Callie told me to bring, I start explaining to Abigail what has happened over the last month that I’ve been away in Italy and what I came home to find. She takes notes of everything that I’ve said and nods her head in places. I then explain to her about my inheritance and how I would like to make sure that he doesn’t get a cent of it. She continues scribbling before she starts talking again.

“Right, firstly, I’m sorry for your loss and having to go through all of that alone, and secondly, I’m sorry you came home and walked in on him with another woman. You are a stronger woman than me, I would have stabbed him in the nuts.” She chuckles.

“The closest thing was a baguette,” I say with a smile.

“Better than a weapon; someone was looking out for you that day.” She smiles. “Back to business, regarding your inheritance, your husband doesn’t have access to that, it’s not considered marital assets. Can he bitch and moan about it? Yes. Can he try to file a claim over it? Also, yes. But legally, he doesn’t have rights to it. Now regarding your assets, is it just the home and restaurant?”

“Yes, both. I borrowed the deposit for both from my great-aunt. I insisted it be a loan, and we had papers drawn up regarding it. Callie told me to do it that way, probably guessing she knew that this day would happen,” I say, turning and looking over at my best friend, who reaches out and squeezes my hand.

“Callie’s a brilliant lawyer. Even if she didn’t have her reservations, she would have still suggested it. It’s smart. Now as you were the main beneficiary of your great-aunt’s will, the loan would be voided for you but not your husband, as I see, he too, has signed this document,” she states, flipping through the paperwork.

My eyes widen at her comment, the realization hitting that Michael might owe me some money; not that I need it, but the pettiness in me is feeling gleeful.

“You’re missing your marriage license in here,” she states, flicking through more papers.

“I assumed it was in the box of paperwork. Everything important was in there, but it wasn’t. I left in such a hurry that I didn’t have time to search for it,” I explain to her.

She nods in understanding before picking up the conference room phone and telling the person on the other end to get a copy of it to place in the file, then hangs up.

“Now, regarding the restaurant, I see you have set up an LLC with it, but the loan contract was as individuals. This is his own personal debt, not the restaurant’s. I’m assuming you do not want to be a part of that company anymore?”

I shake my head.

“Right, we will need to look at him buying you out of the restaurant if he wants to keep it or you would have to sell it. It would be the same with your marital home. Do you think this is going to be a problem?” she asks.

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