An Improper Deal(29)
“Then why do we need you?” I ask.
His mouth smiles. “Because it needs to be actionable in court should either of you breach the agreement. People should always enter into matrimony intending to make it last forever, but any kind of prenup should be written as though the marriage will end for sure.”
If only he knew how true the second part of his statement is… “If I want a lawyer, who do I contact?” I ask.
“There are plenty of excellent attorneys in the city. I’ll have my secretary give you a list.”
“I want somebody at your level,” I say. “I know not all lawyers are the same.”
This time the smile is genuine, and maybe a bit impressed. “Of course. I wouldn’t presume anything less for you.”
Elliot puts his phone away. “Are we done?”
“Yes. You can expect the new agreement by COB today. I’ll have it couriered to both of your places.”
I thank the lawyer, but Elliot merely puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the elevator. The gesture is oddly protective, and his body heat pours over me like warm honey. I clench every muscle I have so as not to embarrass myself.
“If you need a lawyer…” he starts.
So he was paying attention. Sort of. “I don’t know if I want one or not. It depends on what the agreement looks like when I get it.”
“You have an appointment in five minutes with Josephine Martinez,” he says as we wait for the elevator.
“Is she an attorney?”
“Josephine?” He laughs. “No. She knows as much about law as your average crime show fan.”
“Then who is she?”
“You’ll see.”
* * *
Annabelle
When we reach the lobby, a woman in either her late twenties or very early thirties stands up from one of the plushy chairs. She has beautiful bright chocolate eyes, a surprisingly small nose and a mouth that looks juicy from a liberal use of dark pink lip gloss. Her hair tumbles behind her shoulders in chic, thick waves, artful highlights mixing with the dark brown strands. Her bright burgundy dress seems almost painted on, but somehow it isn’t tacky. She looks sophisticated, fashionable and stunning as she walks in a pair of impossibly high stilettos, a black lambskin bag hanging from her arm.
“Elliot.”
“Didn’t take you long,” Elliot says, giving her a quick hug.
Their familiarity sends a flash of ugly heat through me, and I look away.
“Josephine, this is…Gigi.”
I scowl at the name. The subtle pressure of his hand at my back tells me to keep quiet.
She extends an expertly manicured hand. “So good to meet you, Gigi.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“So. She’s the one you told me about?”
“Yes.”
Her gaze sweeps me from head to toe. “What are we talking here?”
“Pretend her house burned down, and she escaped with what she’s wearing.”
Josephine purses her mouth. “I can do that.”
“Great.” He turns to me. “Don’t forget our dinner.”
“We have dinner?” I don’t remember him telling me that. On the other hand, I might’ve lost track of it since he’s told me a lot of things in the last few days.
“Yes. I’ll text you the details.”
“Actually we can’t,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, as Josephine discreetly retreats to give us privacy.
“Today’s a school day. I have to be home.”
“For what? Your sister’s fifteen; she can take care of herself for a few hours.”
“I need to make her dinner.” I don’t tell him Nonny is perfectly capable of nuking frozen leftovers.
He frowns. “I can take care of that, but our dinner is non-negotiable. We still have a lot to go over.”
“Do you always get everything your way?”
“Pretty much.” He gives me a quick grin. “Don’t look so grim. Josephine’s going to take care of you.”
“I still don’t know what she is!”
“A fashion consultant.” He tosses that as a parting remark and waves as he walks away.
Josephine comes back over. “Ready?”
“I guess…”
“Come on.” She leads the way to a Lexus parked outside. “Get in. We have a lot of territory to cover.”
I settle into the passenger seat, and she drives us to a building not too far from the law firm. Its exterior is entirely sleek black, and there are no signs or anything else that might identify the edifice. “Where are we?”
“A place where we’re going to spend oodles of Elliot’s money.”
I nibble on my lower lip. “You know I’m not really dressed for… I mean…” I steal a quick glance at her clothes. She’s so trendy it hurts. “They might kick me out because I look…” I gesture helplessly at my outfit.