I like to consider myself cool under fire. But there are times when no matter how hard you try, your emotions get the best of you. That’s exactly what happened when I saw Girlie Cortez standing next to the striking Bliss Fenton.
My throat suddenly goes dry and I experience a few seconds of vertigo. I’m not happy to see the most unethical attorney I’ve ever had the displeasure of going up against. I quickly regroup and try to play off my shock.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Fenton.” I extend my hand to her, still hoping that perhaps they aren’t together.
“Nice to meet you as well,” Bliss says. “I hope you don’t mind, but after our conversation, I decided I should probably bring an attorney with me.”
It would’ve been nice if Bliss had let me know she’d be bringing Girlie, but I’m beginning to see that Bliss Fenton is just as conniving as Mia and Fletcher said she was.
I nod at Girlie, who’s smirking like she’s just caught a hostile witness in a lie. I almost said Nice to see you again, but that would’ve been a bald-faced lie. “My office is right down this hallway.”
By the time we’re all seated around the table in my office, I’m sufficiently composed. My adversary, on the other hand, looks like she’s been through the ringer. Admittedly, she’s still an attractive woman, but she’s picked up a few pounds, and her face has a bloated look that tells me she’s probably been using junk food as a stress reliever.
“Didn’t know you were practicing again,” I say.
I’m sure Girlie doesn’t like my veiled reference to her suspension, but she pretends my comment is no big deal.
“You can’t keep a good woman down.”
But you’re not a good woman.
Bliss has a puzzled look on her face and turns to Girlie. “You quit practicing law for a while?”
“Just for a short time. I was going through some personal issues.”
Personal issues my ass.
“But I’m back in full swing now. Better than ever. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
I’m itching to tell Ms. Fenton that her attorney had her license suspended. But that would be petty.
“I understand that your client wants to make my client an offer,” Girlie begins.
“Yes.” I reach for a pen, simply to have something to hold. “As Mr. McClain has already advised Ms. Fenton, he doesn’t believe he is the father of her daughter. He took the paternity test earlier this week, but it’ll be about two weeks before the results are in.”
“Then why are we here? Why not wait the two weeks for the results? Maybe they’ll show he isn’t the father. Unless,” Girlie pauses to place a finger to her chin, “Mr. McClain is well aware that he’s Harmony’s father and wants my client to sell herself cheap.”
“I assure you, that’s not the case. His concern is that once the paternity test proves he isn’t the father, he might be facing other allegations from Ms. Fenton. Let’s just say he’s willing to buy himself some peace.”
“Other allegations?” Bliss’ eyes narrow. “Exactly what are you talking about?”
“I understand you and Fletcher’s fiancée have a past. He’s hoping that his offer will encourage you to move on with your life. He was pretty shocked when you showed up at that party in Hollywood and accosted Mia.”
Bliss angles one of her narrow shoulders. “Nobody accosted her. She’s a lying—”
Girlie rests a hand on Bliss’ forearm. “We’re only here for one reason. To hear Mr. McClain’s offer.”
I’d wanted to spend some time bonding with Bliss before putting Fletcher’s offer on the table. But Girlie’s presence short-circuits that plan.
“My client has authorized me to make what I consider a very generous offer in light of the circumstances,” I explain. “His offer is in the six figures and it would require a strict confidentiality agreement.”
“How much in the six figures?” Girlie presses.
“Let me finish before discussing the precise numbers. I’ve recommended that Mr. Fletcher make a two-tiered offer. One offer applies if he isn’t the father, and the other if it turns out he is.”
Girlie folds her arms. “Just a second ago you said he wasn’t the father.”
“We don’t think that he is. But there are all kinds of clever ways a woman can get pregnant these days without a guy’s knowledge.” I smile over at Bliss, who glares back at me. “So as Mr. McClain’s lawyer, I felt it was my responsibility to have him consider the possibility that he could be the father even though he’d broken up with Ms. Fenton at least eleven months before Harmony was born.”
“Why don’t you just get to the point?” Bliss snarls. I could tell from the twitch of her nose that my comments irked her. Good.
I decide not to put my full settlement authority on the table. I want to have some room to move if they seem interested.
“If, as Fletcher believes, he is not the father, he would be willing to give Ms. Fenton a one-time payment of one-hundred-and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
They both chuckle in unison. I ignore them and keep going, directing my words to Bliss.
“You’d be required to sign a confidentiality agreement and you must never have any further contact with Fletcher or Mia again. This would include in person, in writing, verbally or even discussing them via social media.”
Bliss rolls her eyes. “This is ridiculous. They aren’t that important.”
“And if he is the father, he would pay you a stipend of seven-thousand dollars a month.”
Girlie and Bliss turn to face each other at precisely the same moment. This time, neither woman is laughing.
“I don’t know your client’s annual income,” Girlie says, “but according to Forbes magazine, Mr. McClain has a net worth of four-hundred-and-fifty-million dollars.” She glances down at a yellow legal pad. “I estimate that he makes at least ten million a year, which is probably low. But if that’s the case, his child support would be about ten percent of his monthly income. I calculate that to be somewhere in the neighborhood of eighty-three thousand dollars a month. So your offer is not just low, it’s insulting.”
I’m stunned by the counteroffer, but don’t show it. “You seem to have snatched ten million dollars out of thin air.”
“Okay, then. Exactly how much does Mr. McClain make a year?”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.”
“Well, until we have it, accepting a settlement is not something we’re willing to do. So I guess we’re done here.”
Girlie jumps to her feet and Bliss joins her.
“You’re now on notice that Ms. Fenton is represented. So any further communications with her should come through me.” Girlie speaks to me like she’s scolding a child.
“No problem.”
After they walk out, I debate who I should call first. Special, to commiserate about this witch being back in my life. Or Fletcher, to tell him that having Girlie Cortez on this case is an even bigger problem than going toe-to-toe with Bliss Fenton.
CHAPTER 16
Special fought off the jitters as she sat in the waiting room of Total Orthopedic Solutions, where Dr. Joseph Franco was one of five specialists on staff. When she’d made her appointment, Special claimed to be a runner with a knee injury, which wasn’t a total lie. She planned to let the doctor examine her knee, then tell him the real reason for her visit.
Once she was shown into the exam room, she changed her mind about slipping into the paper gown.
Eli was right. If Bliss was as conniving as everyone claimed, Dr. Franco wouldn’t have a problem dishing on her. She balled up the paper gown and stuffed it into the trashcan.
A tall man wearing a white coat and a welcoming smile entered the exam room.
“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Franco. My nurse should’ve given you a gow
n. I’ll go—”
“I don’t need a gown.” Special took in a long breath. “I’m not really here for medical advice.”
The doctor raised a brow and set his clipboard on the counter. “Okay...So why are you here?”
“I work for a private investigator and I’m hoping you can provide some information related to one of my cases.”
The doctor’s neck began to redden. “If you expect me to disclose confidential medical information about one of my patients, that’s not going to happen.”
Special realized that she better start talking and talking fast.
“Your ex-girlfriend Bliss Fenton filed a fraudulent paternity petition against my client. She claims Harmony’s his daughter, but he doesn’t think she is. We’re hoping you’ll be able to share your experiences with her. It might help my client with his case.”
After an uncomfortable beat, Dr. Franco checked his watch. “I have two more patients to see before lunch. Why don’t you wait for me in my office.”
It was another forty minutes before Dr. Franco returned and took a seat behind his desk.
“I’ll tell you straight up, Bliss Fenton is not one of my favorite people. She’s a selfish, greedy, vindictive woman. Frankly, I think she could be bipolar. It worries me every day that my son has to spend most of his time with her. But before I spill my guts, why don’t you tell me about your client.”
Without disclosing Fletcher’s identity, Special explained her theory that Bliss got pregnant by stealing her wealthy client’s sperm from a condom. Dr. Franco was tongue-tied by the time she finished.
“Like I said, I always thought she was a little off, but this confirms it. I recently leased a new car. Now she’s trying to increase my child support payments from ten grand to fifteen grand a month. That woman is malicious to the core.”
Dr. Franco told Special that he met Bliss at a San Diego hotel, where he was attending a medical conference. Only weeks later, he moved her into his Seal Beach home. In a matter of days, he found her to be insecure and clingy and wanted her gone.
“I didn’t see it then, but she has some serious abandonment issues that date back to her childhood. When I told her the relationship wasn’t working for me, at first she was enraged. Being rejected seemed to ignite something wicked in her. But a day later, she had calmed down and asked for my help finding a job. She wanted to work in my office, but that would have been a disaster. We agreed that she would continue to live with me until she found a job. I also agreed to pay her rent for six months once she found a place she could afford.”
Special wrote as fast as she could, trying to get it all down.
“She was super sweet for the next few weeks while she claimed she was looking for a job. That was probably when she put her plan into motion. We continued to have sex, but I always used a condom, even though she was supposedly taking the pill. When she got pregnant, I just figured it was my bad luck. But now, after what you just told me, I bet she stole my sperm and inseminated herself just like she did with your client.”
Special saw nothing but regret on the doctor’s face.
“I feel like such an idiot. I should’ve seen her coming a mile away. I think she went to that medical conference looking for an easy target like me.”
According to Dr. Franco, Bliss had been raised in foster homes until she was close to ten. After that, she lived with an elderly aunt and uncle, who didn’t treat her very well. Though it had never been clear to him what had happened to her parents, he suspected that they had a drug problem. During the time they lived together, she never had contact with any family members. Jessica Winthrop was the only friend he knew of.
“Well, there could be one bright side for you,” Special said, hoping to cheer him up. “If it turns out the kid is his, my client’s going to be on the hook for child support. And whatever it is, it’s going to be a pretty big number. So Bliss will probably drop her plans to go after you for more money.”
Dr. Franco arched a brow, then chuckled softly.
“You obviously don’t know Bliss Fenton. It’s not just about the money for her. It’s about how much drama and strife she can cause for the person who rejected her. So tell your client to get ready. When it comes to getting revenge, Bliss will never have enough.”
CHAPTER 17
I take the cowardly way out and decide to deliver the bad news about my failed meeting with Bliss and her attorney over the phone, rather than in person. Fletcher’s had me on hold now for ten minutes.
“How did it go?” As usual, his rushed tone conveys that he has more important tasks on his plate.
“Not good,” I say.
“She didn’t bite?”
“She didn’t even lick. The worst part is that she showed up at my office with an attorney who’s more devious than Bliss could ever be. Her name is Girlie Cortez.”
Fletcher doesn’t say anything so I keep talking.
“To give you an indication of just how sleazy she is, she was suspended by the State Bar for allowing a client to give perjured testimony. I was the opposing counsel in that case.”
Still nothing from Fletcher.
“Are you there?”
“Yeah. I’m just trying to decide whether I should jump out of the window now, or later,” he jokes. “Now what?”
“We’ll just have to wait for the test results. Bliss seems pretty confident that the kid is yours. She may have taken the turkey baster route.”
“As I’ve already told you, I’m not giving that bitch fifty grand a month.”
I pause for three short beats. “Actually, Bliss’ attorney estimates that you make ten million a year, so she wants eighty-three grand a month.”
Fletcher sputters a bit before any words actually leave his mouth. “That’s insane! Start preparing that lawsuit. If she stole my sperm, I’m suing her for fraud and anything else you can come up with.”
“We’ll need to know the test results before we can—”
“I know that,” Fletcher snaps. “If it turns out that kid is mine, I want that lawsuit ready to go so you can serve her the same day we get the results. What other claims can we add besides fraud?”
The vengeance in his voice unnerves me.
“Conversion and—”
“What’s conversion?”
“The civil equivalent of theft.”
“Okay.” He nods his consent. “What else?”
“Intentional infliction of emotional distress.”
“Great. Let’s do it.”
“You understand that even if you prevail, Bliss won’t have the money to pay the verdict.”
“She has money. She’s getting child support from her other kids’ fathers and she also has a townhouse in Playa Vista that’s probably worth close to a million bucks.”
“We can put a lien on her townhouse, but child support payments are judgment proof.”
“I don’t care. I still want to sue her. I want to expose exactly what she is.”
“Even if it means putting your business in the street. I thought you were concerned about Mia being embarrassed by all of this.”
“Mia isn’t the one who might have to pay that psycho. I am. Did you hire that private investigator?”
“Yes, I have someone on it.”
“They dig up anything yet?”
“I doubt it. It’s only been a few days.”
“Well, put a rush on it.”
“I just want to make sure you understand that a lawsuit like this could generate some unwanted publicity.”
“I don’t care. If Bliss got pregnant by stealing my sperm, I want the world to know about it.”
“Her attorney doesn’t play by the rules. Are you sure you want to go to war against her?”
“What other option do I have?”
“Okay. I’ve given you full disclosure.�
��
“Do I sense a little fear on your part, Vernetta? Sounds like you might be a little intimidated by Bliss’ attorney.”
If we were meeting in person, rather than on the phone, Fletcher would be able to see that his comment makes me bristle. “Of course not.”
“Great,” he says. “Consider me fully informed. Just understand this. I don’t plan to sit back and let Bliss get away with this. So pull out your lawyer fangs and get to work.”
CHAPTER 18
For the past few days, Special had enjoyed getting to know Darius. Their time together, however, had been limited to lunch dates.
She’d kept making excuses when Darius suggested catching a movie or a trip to the Venice Pier or even dinner. But she could tell that Darius was growing tired of her lame excuse that she was too busy to go out at night because of all the time she was spending investigating Bliss Fenton. As a result, her growing guilt was the only reason she’d relented and decided to let him take her on a real date.
They were now headed to the AMC Dine-in Theater in Marina Del Rey to catch the latest Kevin Hart movie. When Darius found out she’d never been to the theater before, Darius insisted on taking her.
Special had suggested meeting him at the theater, but Darius insisted on picking her up from her house in Leimert Park. She’d been peering through the curtains of her living room window so she’d know the exact moment that he arrived. As soon as his car pulled up to the curb, she grabbed her purse and scurried outside. She didn’t want him to have to go through the hassle of getting into his wheelchair and coming around to open the car door for her.
“Hey, Darius!” She greeted him with a super cheery smile as she eased into his Lexus. Maybe if she forced herself to sound happy she might actually feel that way.
She pecked him on the cheek before buckling her seatbelt. This was Special’s first time in Darius’ Lexus. She tried not to stare at the hand controls he used to operate the car, but she was curious and couldn’t help herself. There was a long bar, not much bigger than a bicycle pump, connected to the brake and gas pedals. The handles at the top allowed Darius to control the pedals.
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