Brenna led the way down the hall. She and Zach entered a good-size room with bookshelves lining three walls. A large desk sat near the bay window, and two leather sofas faced a stone fireplace.
“We might as well make this official,” Brenna said, motioning to the desk. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Zach set his briefcase on the surface, but instead of settling in a chair, he leaned against a corner of the desk. Brenna paced to the window, then back to the door she’d closed when they entered the room. Her body screamed tension. She hunched her shoulders, as if against a blow, and looked a lot like the other wives he’d met over the years. Wives who had been left; wives who weren’t sure if they wanted revenge or a second chance.
“Why don’t I go first,” he said easily, as if they were about to discuss the weather. “I’ll tell you how I like to handle things, and you can let me know if that agrees with you.”
She nodded without speaking. Nor did she stop pacing.
“You don’t have to get a divorce,” he began.
The words were familiar-he’d given the speech countless times. It served two purposes. First, having him start things usually put his clients at ease. Second, he was blunt about the divorce process, which often shocked the ambivalent back into their marriages for a year or two. Divorce was ugly, destructive, and expensive. Those who weren’t sure shouldn’t get involved.
“If you decide you want a divorce, you don’t have to do anything about it today.”
Brenna reached the window and turned to look at him. “If this is your standard line, how on earth do you stay in business?”
“That’s not a problem.”
She sighed. “Let me guess. Because the world is filled with foolish women who marry bastards?”
“Something like that.” He waited, and when she didn’t speak again, he continued. “Whatever you tell me is private. Attorney-client privilege means I won’t be discussing your personal business with anyone.” He allowed himself a slight smile. “Not even your family.”
“They have their ways of making people talk.”
“I’m pretty tough.”
“Katie says you’re the best.”
“I’m not afraid to go for the gut. But know this. Divorce is going to change your life in ways you can’t begin to imagine. I’ll start the process if and when you say you want to. However, if you change your mind, I have no problem stopping.”
She paused in mid-pace and stared at him. “You’re a divorce lawyer. Why aren’t you pushing me to do this?”
“Because if we go through with the divorce, I’ll need your cooperation. That doesn’t happen if you’re ambivalent.”
He continued with his standard speech, going over everything from the length of time to the dissolution of marriage to the potential hazards of a court-mandated property settlement. Brenna listened intently and didn’t wince when he named his hourly fee.
When he was finished, he moved behind the desk and sat down. “Now you talk,” he said. “You can tell me you need more time, tell me to go to hell, or just cry.”
One corner of her mouth twitched slightly, as if she had almost smiled. “You must be pretty used to female tears.”
“I’ve had plenty of male clients lose it.”
She walked to one of the chairs across the desk from his and collapsed onto the soft leather. He guessed she was a year or two younger than Katie, but right now she looked old and very tired.
“There’s no question about the divorce,” she said flatly. “Jeff cheated on me.”
“That doesn’t have to be a hanging offense.”
“It is to me.” She looked at him. “He’s not remorseful and he’s not coming back. He told me he’s already filed for divorce.”
Zach pulled out a pad of paper. “That means you’ll be served in the next day or so. Brace yourself for that.”
“Great. So the hits keep on coming?”
“I can help you hit back. If that’s what you want.”
“Revenge sounds really good right about now. I guess one bright spot in all this is I don’t have to change my name back. I never took his. A voice inside told me not to. I guess there was a bigger message I should have listened to.”
Zach leaned forward. “I need to ask you a lot of questions about your marriage, what property the two of you own, that sort of thing. Do you want to deal with that now?”
She nodded.
He pulled out a form and handed it to her. “I’ll need this information as soon as you can get it.”
She read the paper. “Bank account numbers and balances, credit card accounts, car license information.” She glanced up at him. “I guess you’re going to want to know a lot of personal details.”
“So will the court if we don’t come to a settlement privately. California’s a community property state. Everything gets split fifty-fifty.”
“Works for me.”
“Good. Now tell me about the relationship.”
Brenna wanted to curl up in a ball and have the entire world go away. Some kind of oblivion didn’t sound so bad, right about now. One minute her heart raced so fast she thought it was going to jump out of her throat, the next she couldn’t even find a pulse. She felt both hot and cold. Her body ached.
Less than twenty-four hours ago she’d been blissfully happy. Stupid, but happy. Twenty-four hours ago she’d been working at the job that she hated to pay off medical school for a husband who had been busy screwing someone else.
Anger filled her. Anger and rage and frustration and shame. She felt humiliated. She felt old and used.
None of which was going to help Zach Stryker with her divorce. So she did as he requested and gave him a thumb-nail sketch of her marriage to her soon-to-be ex-husband.
“You’ve been sharing a residence,” he said.
“Right up until I walked out this morning.”
“And a bed?”
She glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he scribbled notes on his pad. Heat flared on her cheeks. At that moment she wanted to get on her knees and thank God for her Italian genes. They might have given her chubby thighs, but at least her olive coloring prevented her blush from showing too much.
“If you’re asking if we’re sleeping together, then yes. Every night.” She frowned. “Except when he’s gone for his conferences.” Which there had been a lot of lately, she remembered. Tears burned in her eyes. “If you’re asking about sex. Not very often.”
Not even once in the past four months, she reminded herself. Jeff had had so many really good excuses. Her hands clenched into fists. To think he’d wasted his time coming up with reasons to avoid making love. All he’d had to do was tell her the truth. If she’d known about the other woman, she wouldn’t have bothered asking.
Humiliation clawed at Brenna’s throat. That’s what really got her. That she’d asked. She’d known there was something wrong, and like a fool she’d assumed it was the pressure of finally finishing up his residency or the stress of interviewing with different doctors about joining their practices.
“You and Jeff don’t have any children together, right?”
“Right.”
“Are you pregnant?”
The question raced through her like electricity. Her skin seemed to shrink a size and it was hard to breathe.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because a child means a whole new set of legal complications. Are you pregnant?”
“No.”
She pressed her lips together to maintain control, but it was useless. Tears spilled from her eyes.
She jumped to her feet and circled around the desk. A box of tissue sat in a bottom drawer. She pulled out the box and returned to her seat.
