by Nicole Casey
Running my hair through my new, stylish bob, I willed myself to count sheep or kittens before the tangle of thoughts clogged my brain and I never got to sleep.
I had a big day in the morning; I was meeting Ryerson Sterling for the first time.
The circus was about to begin.
It was raining, adding to my already sodden feel as I rushed to my Mini Cooper and climbed in.
Overnight, the trees had lost their leaves it seemed, and I knew that winter would soon be upon us, even though Thanksgiving was just around the corner and the first day of the solstice wasn’t until the end of December.
The first day of the solstice. My God, Maya is rubbing off on me.
Although I had managed to block out most of what Charlotte had told me on Monday, a slight ache had remained when I realized it had been at least two weeks since I had seen my sisters and a week since I had spoken to them.
You can pick up a phone and call too, I reminded myself.
I grunted aloud and focused on the drive, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead.
I tried to envision what Ryerson Sterling was like.
Sure, I had seen pictures of him and the odd interview but what did that really tell me?
All I truly knew was what I saw on paper.
He was in his sixties, and attractive for an older man.
People had compared him to Paul Newman, but I confess, the reference was a little dated for me.
From the little I recalled, Ryerson was a soft-spoken man but not someone who could ever be mistaken for meek.
He exuded a confidence which was not easily forgotten as if he knew things which other didn’t.
I don’t envy Angeline Sterling. Not only is her soon-to-be ex-infallible, he has the better attorney on his side.
Chuckling, I wasn’t entirely sure that was true but there was no need for Draven to know that I considered him a worthy adversary.
Traffic made things more difficult through rush hour, but I made it in through the doors of Kilpatrick-Campbell on time as always.
The first person I saw as I shook off the water from my coat in the doorway was Vern Harrison and he seemed more frazzled than ever.
It never ceased to amaze me how he had made senior partner and charge of the junior associates.
To me, he was in a perpetual state of chaos, his shirt wrinkled, tie always slightly askew as if he had simply slept in his clothes, rolled out of bed and started the day without any preparation.
Albeit, the man closed clients and was a shark in the courtroom I was told.
Still, he left a lot to be desired from a physical standpoint with his myopic brown eyes and bloodhound face.
“Good, you’re here,” he said when he rested his bespectacled gaze on me. “Come to the conference room with me.”
He spun without waiting to see if I was going after him and disappeared down the hallway like a frightened squirrel.
I nodded and followed, shaking off my trench coat and handing it off to Abby who rose to accept it from me.
She rolled her eyes slightly as if to display that Vern was overreacting, but it didn’t help my quickly tightening nerves.
“Is Sterling here already?” I asked the receptionist and to my relief, she shook her head.
“No,” she replied. “But I think they’re both coming today.”
My dark brows shot up and I stared at her.
“Both the Sterlings?” I choked, thinking about how unprepared I was for such a meeting. I hadn’t even scratched the surface of the case. Typically, I wouldn’t delve into it until after I had met the client one-on-one.
Abby shrugged, and I stifled a groan, my heels clicking on the matte tiles of the lobby as I started into the west hallway toward the third-floor conference room.
When I opened the door, I was startled to see Draven already sitting at the table with an elegant blonde.
I didn’t need to be told it was Angeline Sterling although she did not look familiar to me.
She almost wasn’t real with her hair sprayed blonde hair and pearl combs, sternly formulating a knot precisely at the center of her royal-looking head.
Her lipstick was blood red and perfect, none of it having bled onto the coffee cup before her.
She is a pearl cigarette holder and sequined evening gown away from being a sixties starlet, I thought in amazement. Eat your heart out, Grace Kelly.
Draven glanced up at me and although I didn’t read any expression in his face, I knew him well enough to know that this meeting was as much as a shock to him as it was to me.
“Angeline Sterling, this is Yvette Viera. She will be counsel for – “Draven started to say but she held up a gloved hand and silence him with a withering green stare.
“I know who she is,” the socialite growled. “She handled Gerald Fowler’s divorce and his ex-wife barely gets enough a month to pay her horse trainer. I hope the same won’t happen in my case.”
I swallowed a smile and eyed Draven who recovered quickly with a short laugh.
“I have no idea who Mrs. Fowler’s attorney was,” he replied. “But I assure you, it wasn’t me.”
A fusion of appreciation and annoyance fluttered through me.
I had worked my butt off on that case and it had dragged out for eight months. I was proud that Gerald Fowler was able to keep his hard-earned money against a cheating, heartless and gold digging wife.
It wouldn’t have mattered who her attorney had been; Amanda Fowler already got more than she was entitled to and that was against my advice.
But if Drave thinks he can do better by Mrs. Sterling, I hope she has a better history being married to Ryerson than Amanda did being married to Gerald.
Again I cursed myself for not having read more about them but how was I to know? I felt like I was being ambushed.
“Sit down, Yvette,” Vern instructed. “We will commence when Ryerson arrives.”
“This is ridiculous,” Angeline interjected. “I know why you called this meeting Vern and it is pointless, I assure you.”
“Angeline, I would prefer to wait for Ryerson – “
“Furthermore,” she continued. “I don’t like being contradicted and second-guessed by the very people whom I am paying to protect my interests. If I wanted to be undermined, I would simply remain married to Rye now, wouldn’t I?”
Her steely green eyes bored into Vern’s and I watched as he balked somewhat.
“I assure you, Angeline, that is the last thing we want to do. You and your family have been longstanding clients with Kilpatrick-Campbell – “
“And I would prefer to keep it as such.”
Abruptly she rose from her chair and it was only then that I realized I was still standing, almost gawking at her larger than life personality.
“And as usual, Rye cannot be bothered to honor an appointment where I am involved. You would think he would care more about his money,” Angeline continued, and I found myself listening not to her clipped words but the underlying sadness in her voice.
She doesn’t want to do this, I realized, my head turning toward Draven to see if he had caught the same thing I had but he wasn’t paying attention to me.
A bemused expression had formed on his face and I understood that he was suddenly counting the dollar signs involved with the case before us.
Well, he’s over the conflict of interest issue, I thought, watching as Angeline Sterling strolled toward the door, Vern making way to allow her through.
“Mrs. Sterling,” Vern pleaded. “Please think about how this will – “
“Am I late?”
Ryerson Sterling appeared in the doorway, half-smiling at the room until his cornflower blue eyes rested on his wife where they suddenly became unreadable.
“Is that rhetorical, Ryerson?” Angeline snapped. “Of course you’re late. You’ve never been on time for anything in your life.”
I felt myself instantly growing protective of the man.
After all, he was technically my client un
less Vern could convince them otherwise and so far, the senior partner was 0 for 1.
“Mr. Sterling,” Vern said quickly. “Please come and sit down. I wanted to meet with you both so that you might reevaluate your position about having two attorneys – “
“Oh for the love of God, Vern. You are beginning to sound like a broken record. The answer is no, we are not backing down. We are both staying with your firm!” Angeline cried, throwing her hands up in disgust. “I do hate repeating myself.”
“Angeline, you gave up the right to speak for me when you left six months ago,” Ryerson said coldly.
“Well, I have shut up for far too long, Rye!” Angeline snorted. “And if I want to talk, you misogynistic horse’s ass, I will speak.”
“Mr. Archer, going forward, I believe that you should have your client direct her comments to me or you, don’t you agree?” I told Draven, but my eyes lingered on the surreal blonde, sensing her ire at my words.
Angeline’s emerald irises became slits of fury as her gaze raked over my body, but I held her icy stare.
“I will speak with whomever I wish,” she spat at me. “You will not dictate to me whom I can or cannot speak!”
I shrugged nonchalantly.
“As long as you understand that everything you say will go on record toward the proceedings,” I replied evenly. “You may wish to reconsider what you say as it can be used to our advantage.”
It was not my first rodeo with an irate spouse. She couldn’t intimidate me, no matter how hard she tried.
She would do well to heed my friendly advice, I thought with some smugness.
“This meeting is off the record,” Vern announced, stepping between us and casting me a warning look.
I smiled sweetly at him and watched as he ushered Angeline from the conference room, shooting me a scathing look over his shoulder.
Ryerson turned to me and grinned.
“Ah,” he said happily, extending his hand and pumping my palm heartily. “I see I got the better man despite Angeline’s attempt at trickery. Ryerson Sterling. You must be Yvette Viera. Your reputation precedes you and for someone so young, I must say I am very impressed with your track record, Ms. Viera. I have several friends who sing your praises.”
My beam broadened, and I returned his enthusiastic handshake.
“It is a pleasure, sir,” I told him sincerely, barely looking over to where Draven stood. “But please do call me Yve.”
Draven’s mouth had tightened into a fine line of annoyance and for some reason, it gave me a shiver of excitement.
“Mr. Archer, this meeting is privileged between us. Would you mind giving us the room?” I chirped.
He cleared his throat and nodded, lowering his grey eyes quickly as if hoping I didn’t catch his discontent but it was too late.
“Mr. Archer,” Ryerson called after him and Draven paused.
“Yes, sir?”
“May the best man win,” the media mogul said, a hard grin falling on his face.
Draven studied Ryerson’s face for a long moment before offering a weak smile.
But when he spoke, he looked at me and his words sent a chill through me.
“Of course,” he replied. “All’s fair in love in war, right Mr. Sterling?”
Ryerson chuckled, and Draven turned to leave.
It was only then that I remembered it was my day to bring coffee and for the first time since we had started our tradition, I had forgotten.
5
Draven
I couldn’t say why I felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable as Angeline Sterling peered at me with her cold, green eyes.
After all, I had dealt with the wealthy at Kilpatrick-Campbell many times. The firm only handled high-end clients. I was accustomed to all their sneers and deadpan expressions.
But there was something different about the way Angeline stared at me.
Like she was plotting my death.
I cleared my throat.
“Well,” I started, hoping to break the heavy silence hanging over my office. “I’m sorry about all that.”
She scoffed and reached into her purse, pulling out a pack of Virginia slim cigarettes, lighting one before I could reconcile what she was doing.
“You can’t smoke in here!” I protested but she either did not hear me or chose to ignore me.
“Vern is a fool,” she said, exhaling a puff of smoke toward me and I cringed, unsure of what to say to deter her from continuing.
She’s going to set off the sprinklers, I thought, partially losing myself in the idea of water pouring over her perfectly coifed frame.
I had to admit, it would be borderline arousing to see Angeline Sterling drenched and furious.
“Mrs. Sterling – “
“Stop calling me that!” she snapped, leaning forward, her eyes flashing with even more malice than before. “I am not a Sterling, not anymore.”
Again, I was at a loss for words, but she saved me from having to speak.
“Call me Angeline for now. If things go well, you may call me Angie. If they do not, you may call me Ms. Voigt as you wave goodbye from the airport.”
“The airport?” I asked, not quite following. “Are we headed somewhere?”
“Yes, I imagine you will have to move to Canada because you will never work in the States again if we don’t come out on top here.”
I cringed at the naked threat, but I forced a tight smile.
“I’m not a big fan of hockey,” I replied flippantly.
“Then you best not fail me,” she bit back.
It was not how I envisioned our relationship blossoming, but I tried to reason that Angeline was going through a great deal of stress.
Threats were all she had to assert her authority.
This was another thing I had seen before.
Divorces brought out the worst in people.
I’m sure underneath that frigid exterior is a hurt little girl, I thought, sitting back in my chair, struggling to evaluate Angeline but she could not be pigeonholed, it was obvious.
“Why don’t we discuss your demands,” I sighed, realizing that trying to figure out my newest client was going to be like unraveling a mass of tangled twine.
She was not a simple woman and I could sense this was not going to be an easy case.
There was no infidelity, at least none that I had learned. Angeline had filed the proceedings citing irreconcilable differences and Ryerson had not suggested anything of the sort.
That would be all well and good if they would both be happy to walk away with what they had walked into the union carrying but of course, life could not be that smooth.
“I want it all,” she said flatly. “I don’t want him to have a pot to piss in.”
I almost laughed aloud and to my chagrin, she caught my amusement.
“I knew that I should have asked Vern for the woman attorney,” she spat, and I instantly lost the half-smile on my face. “She would not find this so entertaining, I’m sure.”
Bristling, I sat forward, folding my hands tightly before me.
“I am perfectly capable of handling your case, Mrs. – “
I saw her look before I finished and felt a heat rise into my cheeks.
“…Angeline,” I continued. “But you have to understand that Mr. Sterling is a self-made man. No matter how many years you’ve been married, he is still likely to walk away from this relatively unscathed.”
“That’s another thing,” she said as if I hadn’t spoken. “He has offshore accounts in the Caymans. I expect you to find them and I want those numbers also.”
“Of course,” I said, a now familiar feeling of worry filling my gut.
As if on cue, the sensation of a hole burning began in the pit of my stomach.
If there had been any doubt before, it was gone now; my ulcer was back and apt to get worse.
She rose from the chair and I did the same but in protest.
We hadn’t even scratched the surface of our meeti
ng.
“Mrs. – Angeline,” I started but she was already reaching for her coat, draped over the rack near my office door.
“I trust you are competent to see this through,” she told me in a tone which suggested she did not possess much faith in her words.
It was a rhetorical statement and she was gone before I had formulated an answer.
Why couldn’t I have gotten Ryerson? I moaned silently. She’s going to be a royal pain in the ass.
But I would do as I was told.
I reasoned that if I did a good enough job, there might even be a promotion involved for me.
Senior partner had a delicious ring to it.
Slowly, I sank back into my chair and stared at the mound of paperwork on my desk.
I had a lot to do for Angeline alone, never mind the other open cases I had going.
I was going to need some help.
There was a tentative knock on the door.
“Not a good time!” I yelled but that didn’t stop the door from swinging inward.
I felt my back stiffen as Yvette walked inside.
She had embarrassed me in front of Vern, Angeline and Ryerson Sterling earlier in the conference room, but I didn’t want her to know I was still annoyed.
We were lawyers; we thrived off the weaknesses of others and if Yve sensed I was irritated, she would use it to her advantage.
It was odd to think of her as an enemy suddenly since we had worked together for years but I knew her better than to think she regarded the Sterling affair as anything other than a battle which needed to be won.
That was what made her such a good attorney.
“I saw the ice princess leave,” she said, taking a seat without being asked. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“I’m busy, Yvette,” I told her, my tone more clipped than I had intended.
She eyed me, her cerulean eyes widening slightly.
“You’re mad,” she said slowly but she made no move to rise from her spot.
I stifled a sigh.
“No,” I replied flatly. “I just have a lot of work to do.”
She nodded and suddenly I realized there was something different about her.
“You cut your hair!”
