Give Me Yesterday (5 page)

“I need you on your A-game. There is no room for weakness when you face Janessa. You need to store up your armor and put on a stone cold façade. Got it?”

“Yeah.” His shoulders strengthen and I hold in a sigh of relief, my job is a lot harder when the client doesn’t back up my power play. “Let’s do this. I want it done and over with.”

I grab my files and we walk to the conference room where Janessa is seated with her attorney. She has her patented bitch face on, but I suspect some of that is permanent from too much Botox. Her clothes are ridiculous—leather and leopard—her blonde hair curled and puffed up like she just walked off the set of
Pretty in Pink
. Her attorney, however, looks like a frightened little boy and I give myself an internal fist bump for succeeding in making him cower before me.

I take my seat at the table and glance over at David as he does the same. His face has softened the tiniest amount, so I slap a folder down on the table, drawing his attention. My eyes narrow and his face hardens once again, returning to face the greedy, airhead across from him. Janessa is an idiot in most regards, but when it comes to David, she knows the weapons she wields to get to him and I don’t want him displaying even the minutest indication that she has any leverage at this negotiation.

I place a recorder on the table and give the necessary spiels required to avoid lawsuits. Then we get down to business. After two hours, we’ve hammered out a settlement that is highly in David’s favor, leaving Janessa seething with rage. The last point of contention is the custody arrangement. Currently, their two-year-old little boy, Jacob, lives with David full-time, and sees Janessa on the weekends. Well, the few weekends that she doesn’t cancel. I’m confident that she has no desire to be tied down with being her son’s permanent residency and David has no desire to keep her from Jacob. Piece of cake.

I should have known better. Janessa decides to take this moment to stab David with a proverbial knife and twist it around in his gut to create as much pain as possible.

“I’ve filed for full custody of Jakey,” Janessa purrs, satisfaction oozing on her words. “I don’t think you can properly care for our son with how much you travel.”

Her eyes widen in practiced innocence.

Oh for the love of…

I just barely resist the need to roll my eyes.

“Besides, all that partying you baseball players do… the drugs and liquor and women. That’s just such a bad influence on my Jakey.”

Ew.

She’s making me nauseous with her syrup covered bullshit.

“What?” David yells, jumping to his feet. “You know my life is nothing like that!”

Fuck.

I grab his arm and wrestle him back into his seat, giving him a warning stare. I raise my brows in silent question about whether or not he is going to calm down and let me do my job. I’m itching to bitch slap this hoe up and down the miracle mile, but there are better ways to go about it getting the same result. Her destruction.

He jerks his head up and down and stays silent, but he’s panting out harsh breaths, attempting to cool down. I return my eyes to Janessa, giving her my best withering stare. She shrinks back for a second, then seems to notice her retreat and sits up tall, a sinister smile stretching, what I can only assume are helium filled lips.

“I’ve got affidavits from some of the men on your team, backing me up.”

Guys she fucked around with, no doubt.

Despite my best efforts, anger begins to wiggle its way past my barriers. The lies will be harder to deal with, but not impossible. I’ve already got a file full of proof that she is an unfit mother. The problem will be keeping the kid out of foster care if these two go after each other and neither one comes out looking like a responsible adult.

Janessa stands up and places her palms on the table, leaning forward so that the water balloons on her chest wiggle and almost pop out of her low-cut, skin-tight, leather dress. “I want half of everything, or I’ll make it so you never see your son again, David.”

I continue to lose my grip on my temper with every word she speaks.

“You don’t even want him, Jan.” David’s voice is hoarse, devastation rubbing it raw like sandpaper. Another bit of anger spikes, this time at David for not only giving her leverage through his obvious state but for not trusting me to handle this.

“You’re right. I don’t want to be a mother. But since I know Jacob is everything to you, if I have nothing, then you have nothing. I don’t give a fuck who raises him. He can go into foster care. So long as it makes you miserable.”

Every thread snaps and I jump up from my seat so fast that the chair flies backward, smashing into the wall behind me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I scream. “Your child is not a fucking asset to be traded, you heartless bitch!”

I know I’m way out of line.

I know I’m drawing a crowd.

I know I’m going to pay for this.

But I can’t bring myself to care.

How can God give women like her a precious baby and take one from someone who loved and cared for her more than her own life?

I mirror her stance, leaning on the table and getting in her face. “Listen up, Barbie. I will see to it that you won’t get a thing from this divorce. Not one cent. I will also personally make sure that you never see your son again.” My tone drops, becoming lethal, and I can feel the frost in my intense gaze. “I’ve got mountains of dirt on you and I will
bury
you. Or, you can shut your plastic lips, march out of here with your broom and sniveling assistant, and one hundred thousand dollars of David’s money.”

Janessa’s face is mutinous, but I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I switch my focus to the pathetic excuse of a man next to her, who pretends to be a lawyer.

“And you, your best option is to get your client to agree, because if she does, there is the slightest chance that I won’t get you disbarred. Anyone who can sit there and let her treat a child as though they were trash, doesn’t deserve to live, but I’ll settle for never being able to practice law in the state of Illinois, ever again.” I take immense joy in the loss of blood to his face, and go in for the kill, “If she doesn’t take the deal, you’ll never practice law anywhere. And you and I both know I have the reputation, and the contacts to make that happen.”

“David!” Janessa whines, “Are you going to let her talk to me like that? The woman you love? The mother of your child?”

It’s the last one that seals her fate. David stands and throws her a disgusted look, then meets my eyes. “Do it. She gets nothing.”

Then he turns and walks out, never looking back. David is well aware of what I have on her but has been attempting to keep the divorce amicable. He’s giving me permission to wreak havoc on her life, then crush her underneath my spikiest heel. My inner devil rubs her hands together with glee.

“I’m sorry, you waited too long. My offer expired. So, both of you, get your asses out of my office.” Janessa is at least six inches shorter than me, even in heels, so I stand up straight and tower over her, even from across the table. “Don’t even think about contacting David. I’ll have a restraining order against you for both David
and
Jacob before you even hit the sidewalk.”

Janessa’s attorney rises and grabs her arm, whispering in her ear and dragging her from the conference room. Once they are gone, I snatch the nearest thing, which happens to be a crystal tumbler of water, and hurl it at the wall. Giving myself just a moment to calm down, I gather my things and face the door. Stacey is standing there, her jaw hanging down, her eyes wide as saucers.

“Call someone to have that cleaned up, will you? I’ll be in my office.”

I stalk past her, ignoring the fact that every pair of eyes I pass are staring at me. Once I reach my office, I hit the button that makes my glass wall turn opaque and drop heavily onto the tan, leather couch on the back wall. I am still boiling with fury, but the hysteria is wearing off and I begin to internally freak out over the reputation I have so painstakingly cultivated which is most likely now in ruins. Ten years. Ten years I have had my emotions capped, never letting them surface.

My office door opens, drawing me away from my internal pity party. Larry fills the doorway, noiselessly watching me. His silence is unnerving, but I’ve known him long enough to stay quiet and let him work out his thoughts before he speaks. Larry is older, at least sixty, and has been managing partner of this firm for over fifteen years. At first glance, you wouldn’t know he is a ruthless, high-powered attorney. He looks like the uncle who sneaks you treats before dinner and takes you for piggy-back rides. If uncles like that were dressed in five thousand dollar suits, had their silver hair styled with a five hundred dollar haircut, and played golf with the governor. Not that I would brag about the last one, seeing as how so many of our governors seem to end up in prison.

“You’re one of the best attorneys I have, Victoria.”

Okay, not what I was expecting.

“Probably one of the most talented lawyers I’ve ever seen.” He’s praising me, not firing me?

“However…”
There it is.
“Today’s actions were completely unacceptable.”

Again, I know to stay silent until he’s finished.

“It was also completely unlike the woman I know. But the problem I’m facing is that this other woman is somewhere inside you and I can’t have her making another appearance.”

Defeat. Failure. These are not things I’m used to. My head hangs as they burn me up. I fear the minute he lets me go, I’ll burst into flames until I am nothing but a pile of ash.

“Second chances are hard to come by in this business, but I’m going to give you one, Victoria.”

My head whips up to meet his steady hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I sputter, “what?”

“I think you’re worth it.” He is studying me thoughtfully. “I don’t know the details, but I know enough from your files, and the way you stay unattached to everyone and everything... You haven’t dealt with your grief, Victoria.”

Everything inside me withers like a raisin in the sun.
Don’t go there
, I plead wordlessly.
Please, don’t
—

“I want you to get help.”

No. no. no. I’m chanting in my head, hoping I’m imagining this entire conversation. Wondering if I wouldn’t rather be fired.

“If you’ll agree to go to counseling, you’ll keep your job and we won’t speak of this incident again.” His eyes are soft with understanding, and I remember that Larry is a widower. But it’s not the same, damn it! His wife was in her late fifties. She passed from cancer. His kids are still alive, they—stop! Stop thinking about it!

Behind his sympathy, though, is an undercurrent of steel, and I instinctively know he won’t budge on this.

“I’m not asking you to go to intense therapy. Just a little grief counseling. I’m going to have my assistant give you the information for a group that helped me when I was dealing with my wife’s death. I’ll also have her register you and tell the person who runs it to expect you.”

Finally, Larry steps into my office fully, and walks to the chair near the arm of the sofa, sitting and reaching for my hand. Habitually, I pull it away, and he sighs, then sits forward, his elbows on his knees. “Three months. I’m requiring you to attend for three months. If you want to stop after that, it’s up to you. We’re done with this now. Moving on. But if it happens again, I won’t be able to save your job a second time. Do we have a deal?”

I’m torn between my relief at still having my career intact and my desperate desire to avoid anything that will require me to openly acknowledge my past. The little angel on my shoulder wins and I choose the career I have worked so hard for.

“Deal,” I croak. I’ll make it work. I only have to be there; he never said I had to participate. So fine, I’ll listen to a bunch of people’s sob stories and their touchy-feely attempts to “heal.” I’ll do what I always do. I’ll shut the door to myself, lock it, and never let anyone in.

I
scan the small room of the Lincoln community center and search for the newbie. The meeting starts in a couple of minutes and she still hasn’t arrived. When Larry Collins emailed me yesterday afternoon about a new member named Victoria Larkin, I added her to the role sheet. His email had been short and to the point, piquing my curiosity about my newest member.