Funny how the priorities change when you find someone’s been screwing you over. I can almost empathize with some of my clients. Almost. The difference is I don’t cry over anyone. I either get even or pretend they don’t exist.
In the meantime, I’m going to hammer her to a wall. In the least sexual way possible. And then walk away from this shitshow as light as a feather.
“Eric? Ronnie Evans. Pleasure to meet you.” A jolly bearded guy in a cheap sports coat walks into my office with a briefcase under one arm and the other extended for a handshake. “I was very excited to get your call.”
“Ronnie! The pleasure is mine.” I take his hand. “Please, have a seat. Forgive me if this goes a little wonky. I usually have Sophie handle this, but given the context, I thought it best to meet in person.”
“Absolutely.” Ronnie nods. “This is sensitive material and it’s important to know who you are dealing with. I don’t work with anyone I can’t meet face-to-face. My job is information, not falsehoods or assumptions.”
“Understood. This is a large reason why I wanted to meet with you. While I need this small leak to turn into a flood, I want to be sure I trust who is going to handle it.”
Ronnie nods and launches into several anecdotes to emphasize the effectiveness of his approach. I nod politely like I’m listening, but I’m not. Truth is, I don’t give a shit about anyone else’s story. He’s been research thoroughly and I know he’s the guy to handle this.
Yes, I could have just slipped several copies of these photos of Kate and me under the doors of a dozen tabloid offices, but I want to make sure this is handled properly. It needs to be definitive, not something that can be argued haphazardly in court to draw it out.
Every day I’m attached to David is one more day I’d rather shoot a nail in my eye. As for Kate, I’ll be happy to have this entire thing finished so I can go fuck a whole line of chorus girls. Whatever needs to be done to get the imprint of her body against mine eradicated.
If there’s one thing I’m exceptional at, it’s finding a new girl. I need to cut her out of my brain and heart as soon as possible. That means lots and lots of girls. Maybe an orgy. Maybe I’ll find one of those secret underground sex clubs. Maybe I’ll walk down Rodeo Drive stark naked.
The world is my oyster.
“What’s the weirdest case you’ve handled?” Ronnie asks. His tone changes and pulls me from my daydreams of Kate. I never know how to respond to those dreams anymore aside from drinking heavily, so I’m glad for the pull. “I’ve always found your job so interesting.”
“A few years ago, my client accused his wife of catfishing. It sounded insane at first, because they were married for a decade, you know? Turns out she lied about being an immigrant bride. The whole thing was an act. She didn’t come from the Ukraine, she came from Minnesota of all fucking places.”
“From Minnesota to the Ukraine, eh?”
“She nailed that fucking accent, Ronnie. That was definitely one of the weirder cases I’ve handled. Not going to lie, though, it was fun as hell. Discovering her secret identity was the most fun I’d had researching in ages.”
“I bet the reveal was even better.” Ronnie grins.
“I wish the damn thing was televised. It was the most beautiful fall from grace I’d ever seen. Top-five moment, hands down.” I say. “The husband was so grateful I got to the bottom of everything, he gave me a massive bonus.”
“Wait, wait.” Ronnie shakes his head. “Was the bonus like a hundred grand and a trip to Paris on his private jet?”
“That’s the one!” I nod. “God, that was a great trip, too. Took my boys with me and we tore up the town. Of course, I blew most of the money on that trip. Gambling, top-shelf booze, Amsterdam. We lived it up. The rest went to student loans. Should have dumped the whole thing in, I suppose, but fuck, it was a great trip.”
“I remember reading about that. Had no idea it was you. Well done, Eric. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.” I extend my fingers out a bit in a show of humility, even though I bask in the complement. “What about you? Surely you’ve seen a ton of crazy doing what you do.”
“Name it, I’ve seen it.” Ronnie nods. “Actually, the weirdest shit is usually from people trying to make something out of nothing. When they try to stack situations against their ex, you know?”
“People do that?” I ask. Guilty as charged, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Given your industry, are you really surprised?” Ronnie cocks an eyebrow. “There was a high-profile divorce going on a few years back that we got pulled into. The husband tried to frame the wife for having an affair. Except the dumbass had pictures taken of himself. He paid me, so I circulated them, but it became very clear very fast he was the guy in the pictures.”