Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Tayvious’s loud comment draws everyone’s attention our way again, but having learned their lesson the first time, most folks just offer up a small wave and go on about their business.
Chapter 17
WREN
“Not wanting to step on your toes here, but I want to see what this jerk’s got up his sleeve too. Especially after that bullshit Chrissy pulled,” Ben tells me. He looks out the window with narrowed eyes, and to a bystander, it’d almost seem like he’s mentally fading away. But Ben’s mind is sharp, and he’s likely playing out scenarios the same way I’ve been doing since this meeting was called.
Three hours ago.
Divorce is typically a slow endeavor. Divorce with contentious parties? Even slower. But when my phone rang this morning, Oliver was downright snippy with me, demanding a sit-down with all parties today.
Luckily, the conference room is available because the book club group was willing to reschedule this week’s meeting—with a reminder that they want any shareable details first—so Ben and I are sitting here, waiting for this circus to get started.
“Let them show their cards first,” Ben reminds me. “You did us right with that contract, so whatever dodginess they’ve got in mind for each other should slide right off us like shit off a duck’s back.”
“Unless they pull out of the whole build project,” I suggest. “They’re obligated to finish phase one, but they can delay the rest indefinitely if the divorce stays unresolved.” That’s my main fear, and Francine’s too. We want Township for Cold Springs, so in some ways, Jed has us by the short hairs and he knows it.
“If they’re hustling like this, I don’t reckon it’ll be unresolved for long.”
Joanne pokes her head in the door. “Should I get coffee or water for the table?”
“It ain’t the pope coming and this is no friendly meet ’n’ greet. If they’re thirsty, they can get a drink out of the water fountain in the hall.” Ben’s crankiness is warranted. I’ve got a matching case, but we need to hide it a bit better until we find out what’s going on.
“Thanks, Joanne. We’re good for now,” I tell her, much more kindly.
A few minutes later, I can hear the click-clack of shoes coming down the hallway. “Showtime,” Ben says.
I plaster a politely blank expression on my face and stand as we wait for the door to open. Jed and his lawyer, Robert Jenkins, come in like this is their meeting room, making themselves at home on the opposite side of the table.
Jed’s lawyer is exactly what I expected. His personality enters the room almost before he does—big, bold, brash, and smarmy in an expensive suit. I could’ve guessed Robert Jenkins was an attorney without seeing his business card. He’s probably the type that, when he’s not defending assholes in messy divorces, does cable TV commercials promising you millions for that rash you got with your last visit to the doctor’s office. Not the one you got treated . . . the other one.
“Good to meet you. Ben Norton?” Robert holds his hand out to Ben, ignoring me completely. I’m not surprised. He probably thinks I’m an assistant or someone equally beneath him.
Ben shakes Robert’s, but also adds, “This is Wren Ford, Cold Springs’ attorney.”
Robert’s eyes ping-pong from Ben to me, almost amused. Does he think Ben is kidding?
I hold my hand out, waiting with a mild version of my resting bitch face. I’m naturally a fairly smiley, happy person, and one of the first lessons I learned in law school was to fix my face. It’s a skill that’s been useful over the years, especially when people underestimate me.
Like Robert Jenkins is doing right now, shaking my hand the way you might placate a toddler who wants you to bow because they’re a real princess. If he tries to pat me on the head, I swear he’ll come back with a nub.
Uncle Jed doesn’t bother shaking my hand, but rather goes straight for the family connection. “Hey, Wren, I haven’t seen you in a bit. How’s your mama doing? She still dragging Bill to those yoga classes?”
He chuckles, elbowing Robert like, Can you believe that? Jed might be my uncle, but Mom and Dad aren’t close with him anymore and haven’t been in a while. For living in a small town, we basically see Jed at Christmas and maybe the occasional run-in at the coffee shop or gas station.
Jed thinks that’s my mother’s doing, but the truth is, Dad feels like he finally escaped Jed’s shadow and has no interest in going back into the dark, much preferring the light. He and Mom have created a lovely life in their retirement, with yoga dates, a book club, and babysitting for Winston, taking Joe as much as they can. They’re happier without Jed in their lives, and so am I.