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)
If we can just get Township done, hopefully I won’t have to deal with him anymore.
“They’re enjoying retirement.” A simple, truthful statement that ignores his implication that Mom somehow holds Dad’s balls in her purse.
We sit down, and after a few awkward minutes of silence, Oliver and Chrissy arrive.
Chrissy came dressed to impress, in a black pencil skirt that fits her like a second skin, a black blouse that hugs her breasts, and black heels. Her hair and makeup are pristine, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had them professionally done this morning. She looks nothing like the crazed, wild woman who destroyed a town house yesterday, but rather a refined, pulled-together woman who will give Jed and his lawyer a run for their money.
The atmosphere chills instantly as Jed glares at Chrissy, and she feigns indifference.
Oliver pulls out a chair for Chrissy, and she perches on it delicately. “Hello, Wren, Ben,” he greets us as he sits down comfortably.
The difference in approaches is apparent from the jump. Robert feels big and important, and I’d bet he is accustomed to people fawning over him. Oliver’s already been working with us and is relaxed and friendly, going so far as to shoot me a more-than-familiar smile. Ben and I are stuck in the middle, not giving two shits about the divorce other than how it affects our town.
“Let’s get this done.” Robert’s opener is cold and mechanical, but Oliver responds in kind, pulling a thick manila folder from his briefcase.
“I’m keeping the house,” Chrissy declares.
Jed scoffs. “Over my dead body.”
“Well, you’d best get to dying, then, because I’m sleeping there tonight. Alone.”
Ding, ding. Fight!
And so begins an hours-long fight for every penny, property, and even a coffeepot that apparently is a bone of contention between the two of them. I feel like a voyeur as I watch them reveal secrets no one outside their marriage should know, like that Jed sings while he shits every morning, waking Chrissy up with his off-key warbling of seventies rock hits, and that Chrissy has a bad habit of picking her nose until it bleeds.
“We’ll see about that,” Chrissy sneers about Jed’s claim that he’s taking his truck.
Jed mocks Chrissy, “Oh, you think so?”
“You have no idea what I can do,” Chrissy threatens. “I already shut down your stupid development, didn’t I? And got you out of the house? And took my share of the bank account? You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
Boiling bunnies maybe?
“I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?” Jed throws Chrissy’s words right back at her, and they sound significantly more concerning coming from him. She’s wild and out of control with hurt, but Jed’s shrewd and calculating. And obviously planning something.
Nothing has been decided, only battled over. I didn’t expect them to negotiate a list of his and hers today, they’re just sparring and feeling each other out, but finally, we get down to the nitty-gritty that matters—Ford Construction Company.
Oliver flips to a new page in his folder. He glances at me, and for the first time since they entered today, I can see sorrow in his eyes. It’s only a flash before he returns to his cutthroat persona, but concern bubbles up in my throat. “We’ve had our financial auditor estimate the value, but concede that you will likely want to do the same, considering the significant assets.”
Jed scoffs and Robert clears his throat, pointedly silencing his client, before nodding at Oliver to continue.
“We propose that personal assets be divided seventy-thirty, in Ms. Ford’s favor, in light of Mr. Ford’s obvious and incontestable activities outside of the marriage. In addition, professional assets will be divided seventy-thirty. While we concede that Mr. Ford has run the day-to-day operations of their marital business, it was Ms. Ford’s initial investment that started the business, and she has been an active and equal participant in the business all along, providing support that allowed Mr. Ford the freedom to work as he desired.”
Holy shit! Chrissy really is planning to take Jed to the cleaners. A seventy-thirty division of all assets? I’m no fan of Jed’s, but that’s punitive by definition.
“You think you’re equal in my business?” Jed sneers at Chrissy.
She smiles coldly. “Honestly, considering it was my inheritance that funded your little Bob the Builder dream, I’d say more than equal.”
Jed nearly comes across the table at her, but stops halfway to plant one hand on the surface and point at her with a thick finger. “You bitch. No matter how miserable I was, you never gave a shit. Just wanted me to fund your shopping sprees and spa days. And now you’re pissed that I’m finally happy.”
Chrissy doesn’t so much as blink at his angry outburst, but rather coldly answers back, “Happy with her? She’s a baby, Jed. Of course she thinks you’re some knight in shining armor and you’re going to have this oh-so-perfect little family, but I bet she feels differently when her knight can’t afford a pot to piss in, hates children, and is too old to get it up without a blue pill.”