I distantly heard the god-like man saying to the bitch-at-reception, "Any messages for me, Cathy?"
"Not this morning, Mr Anscombe," came her overly chirpy reply.
Ah crap, I'd flirted, most embarrassingly and quite unsuccessfully, with the guy who owns the law firm. I blinked a few times to clear my head of all the curse words storming through my brain.
And realised, belatedly, that the magazine I was holding was upside down and around the wrong way.
Jeez, Gen. Get a grip!
Chapter 2
Dream Just a Little
I had just managed to banish the blush, when a large shadow fell over me. I lifted my head and met, for the second time that day, a god-like smile shining down on me. This one was accompanied by thick blond, short hair, a small smattering of stubble, that appeared a fashion statement rather than any indication he had been too late getting out of bed. Although the slight dishevelment of his hair would make you believe he'd not long vacated said bed and it had been fun. Big brown eyes with crinkles around the edges, making his age a little hard to guess, but I was heading towards similar to god-like-man number one: thirty-something.
His smile was wide and encompassed most of his face, not just literally, but in a way that your eyes couldn't help being drawn to it and nowhere else. Dazzling, I think they call it.
He reached a hand down, interrupting my mental descriptions and obvious perusal of his very fine body and said, "Ms Cain? I'm Finn Drake. So sorry to keep you waiting, had an unexpected call."
I took his hand, shaking it and in no doubt he hadn't had a call at all, but unlike the bitch-at-reception, this guy knew how to make his clients feel welcomed.
"Mr Drake, thanks for seeing me," I said, getting to my feet. He stepped back, but didn't release my hand immediately. It wasn't as though he was helping me to my feet, but then again, it was.
"This way, please," he said indicating the hall we were to head down.
I walked in front of him, which was a little disconcerting because I didn't know where I was going, but he hadn't left me much choice. Maybe he was a gentleman and ladies always went first. He needed to get into the twenty-first century and help a girl out, because we came to a fork in the hallway and I had to stop.
"On the right, first door you come to," he offered helpfully from right behind my shoulder.
I forged ahead, purposely not looking over my shoulder to see how close he was. What was with it with these lawyers and invading personal spaces? The room we entered was big and spacious. A couple of armchairs sat opposite a couch in the corner, off to the side was a bookshelf laden with law-type looking books - all leather bound, dreary and heavy looking - a filing cabinet and then the main attraction, an antique partners desk with two chairs in front and a comfortable swivel chair at the back. I headed directly towards them, not wanting to relax on another couch.
Finn Drake went to the swivel chair and waited for me to sit before doing so himself. Manners. Nice.
"Would you like a coffee or tea?" he asked pleasantly and I instinctively knew neither would be nice. I don't like tea and if god-like Mr Anscombe was forced to buy cheap generic take-away cupped coffee from my opposition, the alternative in his office must be bad.
I shook my head and played nervously with the strap of my handbag on my lap.
His eyes flicked over me once and he nodded, then leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers together, elbows on armrests and said, "All right, why don't you tell me how you would like Anscombe, Drake and Kline to help you today?"
I swallowed, I was so out of my league.
I reached inside my purse and pulled the envelope out, then ran my fingers over it checking to make sure the letter was still inside. I was aware I was biting my bottom lip again, a nervous gesture that I hated but couldn't seem to make myself stop. I took a deep breath in, placed my handbag on the floor and looked up into the warm, brown eyes of the very expensive looking lawyer before me.
"I'm not sure if I'm in the right place," I admitted, reluctantly.
"Do you require legal representation?" he asked immediately.
I blinked, then nodded.
"What type of representation, Ms Cain?"
I cocked my head at him, there were different types? I thought a lawyer was a lawyer was a lawyer. He smiled back at me, it was lovely, but not beautiful like god-like Mr Anscombe.
"We work predominantly in family law with a little property law thrown into the mix down on the third floor. Do you have a marriage or partnership settlement you wish to finalise or is this pertaining to the purchase or sale of a property?"
Oh. "My boyfriend," I spluttered. "Er... ex-boyfriend. He..." I looked down at the letter and bit my lip again.
Finn Drake leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on top of the desk, hands clasped together.
"Nothing you say will be repeated outside of this office, other than a few brief facts at our partners meetings, to ensure we are all aware of what cases the firm is currently handling. The majority of what passes between us, stays between you, me and my secretary, and no one else. Of course, where legal documentation and court appearances are concerned, any pertinent information we have discussed will be given, but you will be aware of what we share outside of this office or not, before it gets to that stage."
I nodded, still biting my lip.
"Why don't you tell me about the letter," he said softly. "I recognise the letterhead, its from a firm in South Auckland."
I looked down at the envelope and noticed it did have a letterhead stencilled on the front. He'd noticed it from his side of the desk and I had been running my hands over it constantly since I had got the damn thing from my purse.
I handed it over to him and said, having to clear my throat a couple of times first, "I received this last week. He wants half of everything. I don't know what to do."
He took the letter without comment and slipped it free of the envelope. It took him no more than two minutes to read it, but it felt like a lifetime. Everything I'd worked so hard for split asunder because of Brett.
"How long were you together?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts.
"Almost seven years, I kicked him out the first time twelve months ago." My voice was whisper quiet. This was such personal information to share with someone you didn't even know.
"The first time?" he asked and his voice sounded kind.
"He came back four times over the past year." I felt that blush rising again and bit my lip, then forcefully released it. "I let him back four times," I admitted feeling like the worst kind of idiot alive today.
"When was the last time he left?"
"The last time I kicked him out," I emphasised the fact I had done the dumping, somehow that was important to me, "was four months ago. But even when he came back, we weren't together." I have no idea why I said that. But I couldn't stop myself elaborating further. "He started sleeping on the couch almost two years ago. We haven't been together properly for years." I slammed my lips closed and promised myself I wouldn't talk again.
Finn Drake just watched me for several seconds, I kept my gaze at the floor. It was a nice floor, different carpet to that out in reception. Reception's had been cream - bad for coffee stains - here it was a pale grey with darker grey flecks throughout. Coffee spilled wouldn't be so noticeable in amongst all of that.
"But he lived in the same house as you up until four months ago?" he asked and I could tell he didn't like doing it. I don't know why I could tell, maybe it was the fact I jerked in response and he didn't seem surprised.
"Under the same roof, not in the same bed." Good God, Gen, shut up! "Until four months ago," I added and thought, just shoot me now, but kept on going. "I changed the locks and the alarm code and replaced my cellphone too. He couldn't get in touch and maintenance and my neighbours all knew not to let him in. I also served a Trespass Notice on him last week." Verbal friggin' diarrhoea.
"Why the Trespass Notice?" he asked and this time reached
for a pad and started to jot a few things down. I couldn't see what he was writing, but it was the first time he had started taking notes.
"He's been sending me roses, bunches of them. Leaving them outside my front door. They haven't been delivered by a regular courier service, somehow he gets in the building and does it himself. Maintenance confirmed it was him on the security cameras. I've told him it's over, I've explained it all, but he keeps coming back. He won't listen. He doesn’t believe me."
Finn Drake kept writing a few things down for several seconds and then without looking up asked, "Are you afraid of him?"
I frowned. Brett was a lot of things, but he'd never hurt me physically. He was just persistent. I was annoyed and wanted the attention to stop. And now the letter, demanding half of everything I owned in a separation settlement he seemed hell bent on not actually following through with, if today's roses and attached card begging I take him back was anything to go by.
"No, not afraid," I admitted. "I just want it to stop. And," I paused, this was it, the big reason I was here. The shallow, incredibly selfish reason I was here. "I don't want him to have the shop. It's mine. My dream. I worked for it, he did nothing to help me out. He barely paid anything towards our mortgage on the apartment, let alone groceries and things like that. He never contributed a thing. Well until the last time I took him back."
"What happened the last time you took him back?" Finn asked, still not looking up from his frantic writing on the pad.
"I was behind in the mortgage, somehow he found out, he offered to pay that month if I let him come home again."
Finn looked up at that. "And you accepted?"
It had been a tough month, the espresso machine had not only broken down, it had died. I had to get another on short notice and no one locally had one to hire out, so I paid an arm and a leg to get one up from Hamilton while I sorted out a new one from my local Rancilio agent. Then forked out over ten grand for the model we had always used and knew worked well.
I swallowed down my embarrassment and lifted my chin at the lawyer before me. "Yeah, I let him come back."
He slowly put his pen down on the desk and held my gaze. There didn't seem to be any judgement there, but I felt judged all the same.
"First of all," he started gently, "the law is quite plain as far as long term de facto relationships go. The Property Relationships Act 1976 covers couples who have lived together in a relationship for at least three years. Also, the longer you are together, the more inclined a judge is to act on the side of the law. Your relationship is considered long term, anything over five years now days is and every year on top adds more weight. So, he has a right to claim half of your property."
I sagged into the chair I was sitting on, defeat and once again, guilt and shame crashing into me. Seven years wasted, the last two shouldn't have existed at all, but even taking those off the tally, we were together properly for five. More than the law covered. Brett could take Sweet Seduction from me, because to halve it would be to break it. I couldn't buy him out. I just didn't have the money anymore.
"I'm telling you this because you need to be prepared," Finn went on, as though I wasn't having my world turned upside down. "We can fight for your side, make sure your story is heard. The fact he hasn't contributed financially for the majority of the relationship will help out."
"Should I take him back?" I abruptly interrupted. It was the only thing I could think of to stop Brett destroying my dream. I didn't want him back, hell I wanted to forget him if I could, to never see him ever again. But to save Sweet Seduction?
"Um," Finn said uncertainly. "Do you want to take him back?"
"If it means I keep my shop, then I'll do it."
He looked at me strangely for a moment, then said, "You could buy him out, you know. Come to some agreement with him maybe. A payment plan if finances are tight. Taking him back should only be considered if you want to take him back." He held my gaze. "It's only a business, you could also start again."
I shook my head from side to side vigorously, my bottom lip firmly between my teeth.
"OK," he said quietly. "The shop is important." I nodded, just as frantically. "I'll need a list of your assets, your current bank account balances, any investments you own. I'll also need you to write an affidavit about the condition of the relationship, in particular reference to him not contributing financially. Your financial records should support all of this. It may not be as bad as it all appears, his non-contribution will not be overlooked, it will go against his claim."
He shuffled his papers for a moment, as though he was deciding whether to ask the next question on his lips. My father had always done the same thing, that's why I could recognise it. Usually with Dad, it was because he was about to ask about a disliked boyfriend attending a family gathering or not. Finn Drake had that same look, but I couldn't hazard a guess at the question behind it.
Finally, he asked, his warm brown eyes looking sharper than they had before, "Why do you think he's doing this? If he hasn't contributed financially to your living arrangements, he must know his case is weak. Does he want the shop specifically?"
I shook my head, I was getting good at non-verbal communication it seemed. "He has a gambling problem. I didn't know about it until he withdrew all of our savings and lost it on a bad bet. That was the first time I chucked him out."
Finn had gone deathly still.
"How much are we talking about?" he asked, still immobile in his seat.
"One hundred and fifty thousand," I replied, my voice shaking obviously.
"You had that much in savings and not on the apartment?" Yeah, it was stupid, I should have paid off the mortgage, but the money was an inheritance from my gran and I'd had it only a few weeks. I had deposited it in our joint account, while I decided how best to use it. I didn't get a chance. I relayed this information to Finn.
"He stole your inheritance," he said, voice low. I nodded, bottom lip secured.
"Ms Cain," Finn Drake said standing up. "You definitely have a case."
He came around the front of his desk, but I was too busy deep breathing through profound relief. I hadn't thought my inheritance would count, it was money we'd had when together, just because he lost it gambling, didn't mean it could be counted in the settlement now. It had been there, now it wasn't. In my mind it wasn't even part of the equation, just evidence of my misplaced trust and Brett's inability to resist its allure. My mistake, his incompetence and greed. And I saw afterwards, a destructive habit to gamble on anything that moved.
"Did things deteriorate after that?" Finn asked, sitting in the chair beside me, which I found rather strange, but also kind of nice. He'd removed the big wooden barrier between us and seemed more normal - as in my kind of normal, not normal legal-like, god-like man.
I nodded again. "He seemed to change." Then I closed my eyes, thinking back on that time. "No, he changed before that, I just didn't notice or chose not to."
I opened and saw him watching me, that warm smile back on his lips.
"I need to speak to our investigators, I believe they may be able to help out in this case."
Holy shit, not only lawyer bills, but investigator bills and I really didn't want to think about how they would be suited to this case.
"Um," I said, but he went on.
"Once I have all of your financials, I'll get our techs onto tracing exactly where your ex-boyfriend came and went. There may be more embezzling of your funds that you are not aware of. Gamblers become adept at covering their trails. I'll also have the team look into exactly what he has done with his own pay-check, if he's resorted to using your money, you can be guaranteed he's already spent his. This will all aid us in building his character and strengthening your case."
"That seems like a lot of work," I said, also thinking this seemed well out of my understanding of a lawyer, but what would I know?
"It is, but it will be worth it," he replied easily.
I was sure he believed that and maybe he w
as right, things certainly didn't look as bleak as they had when I got here, but still - time to confess.
"I don't know if I can afford this," I admitted.
He turned to look at me, face open and incredibly kind. "We have a budget for pro bono work, I think your case would apply."
I started shaking my head, a hand out, charity. I knew what pro bono meant and my financial worries were not for the greater public good.
"Ms Cain," Finn said reaching over and placing a placating hand on my arm, "let me help you."
"Why?" I whispered, knowing nothing in this life was for free.
His lips tipped up into a genuine smile.
"Because I can," he replied softly. "And because he stole your grandmother's money and squandered it all on a bet."
"There must be many people deserving of your help more than me," I argued, my voice still soft and unbelieving.
"Who we help and who we don't is our decision alone. I will need to gain approval from the other partners, but once they know the specifics of your case, I am sure they will agree with me."
Oh no. God-like Mr Anscombe will know how fucked up my life is and how stupid I've been. I wasn't sure if I could handle that, him thinking I was a weak and pathetic female who took her ex-boyfriend back, because she couldn't budget appropriately to pay all the bills.
And then I thought of Sweet Seduction, my dream come to life and all that is left of me. If I lost it, I just didn't have it in me to start again, I was sure. This was it, my one chance to succeed, to live my dream. For that I could face a little judgement, a little embarrassment. For that, I'd do anything.
Even take Brett back if it was the only course left to me.
I blinked back tears at that horrific thought, but I think Finn Drake assumed they were because of his generous offer. He just smiled, squeezed my hand - which had somehow found its way into his - and offered me his handkerchief.
I took it and wiped away tears and then didn't know if I was meant to return it or wash it first. Finally I placed it in my handbag and stood up on only slightly shaky feet. It seemed we'd said all there was to say, it was time to leave. Finn stood too and stepped back to allow me room to manoeuvre.
Sweet Seduction Sacrifice Page 2
