The Billionaire’s Secret Wife(17)
“I can’t believe Harry gave you another day off,” he said, taking his seat. “I was sure he’d say no. What’s the secret?”
“It’s conditional.” Dickson had made it clear if she got everything done by Thursday, she could take Friday off. Otherwise, she had to keep her ass in her seat and get the work done.
“Yeah, right!” Stan Rivers stuck his head through the open door and snorted. “You’ll be able to go even if you don’t finish anything. Everyone knows that.”
Vanessa gave him a long, hard stare. A couple of years older than her, Stan was the most likely associate to make partner next, although there was some whispering that Vanessa might take his spot. She hated how people tried to pit them against each other, but most importantly she hated how smug and annoying Stan was. He was always bringing up the fact that she was a Pryce girl and knew a lot of people. He even talked about how she’d been invited to Barron Sterling’s granddaughter’s wedding—in a not so subtle way—to hint that she was being promoted at the firm only because of her connections.
It was just her luck he wasn’t even a terrible lawyer. He wasn’t great, but he was better than average—good enough to survive at the firm. Plus he knew how to be slick with partners and clients. He always dressed well and swaggered around like he knew he was a shoo-in for the promotion.
Which made her jaw ache.
“If I had the influence you think I do, you wouldn’t be working here.” Vanessa reached for her fries. “Felix, do you mind shutting the door? We have a lot of billable”—she looked pointedly at the pile of documents to review—“work to do.”
With an overly sympathetic smile, Felix shut the door in Stan’s face. “Can’t stand that guy.”
“You and me both.”
“I hope you make partner before him. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if he does.”
“He’s not a bad lawyer.”
“That doesn’t make him great.”
Vanessa nodded and almost jumped when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Justin.
Why do you want my lawyer’s contact info?
Narrowing her eyes, she typed, So I can tell him where to send me the prenup.
A moment later, he responded, Send YOU a prenup? Isn’t it usually the other way around with the Pryces?
She sighed. Don’t be dense. At 25 billion and counting, Justin was worth more than her entire family.
No prenups.
You need to protect yourself.
If I wanted your legal advice, I would’ve signed a retainer agreement.
She glared at the screen. Felix looked over, his head tilted. “Who’s that?”
“A friend who’s refusing my legal advice.”
He snorted. “Not smart. I’d take your advice, especially if it was free. Does she have any idea how much you bill?”
“I know, right?” Vanessa typed, Fine. Have it your way. Don’t blame me if things go south.
Go south. As if. A moment later there was another message. Bring a white dress.
Stupidly arrogant. But she should’ve expected that from Barron’s heir. Everyone had assumed her parents’ prenup was iron-clad…except her mother’s lawyer Samantha, shark that she was, had found a way to chip away at it. Now she was questioning the validity of the document in the first place, which was dragging out the horrendous divorce process.
Her phone buzzed again. Vanessa glared at it, then picked it up just in case it was a real client who actually wanted legal advice from her. Instead it was her mother.
I’m finally all moved and settled. There will be a housewarming party on Saturday at six. Bring a date if you can.
Vanessa rolled her neck, trying to relieve the tension. Her mother had been avoiding her and her brothers for the last few weeks, and now came this last-minute notice for an event that was more or less obligatory.
Felix took a big gulp of his coffee. “You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just my mom.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Great, apparently. She wants to have a housewarming party.”
“Oh.” He knew—like everyone else in the legal community and Vanessa’s social circle—that Ceinlys Pryce was divorcing her husband of almost four decades. “Are you going?”
“I guess. I don’t know.”
It depended on Justin’s plan, which he wasn’t telling her.
“I understand your dad’s contesting the divorce,” Felix said slowly, each word carefully chosen in that lawyerly way of his.
Grunting, she nodded. She didn’t know the details of her father’s strategy. Her parents weren’t talking to her or her brothers about the divorce at all. It hurt her she couldn’t talk to her mother about her impending secret wedding and motherhood or her doubts about Justin. Her mother wasn’t the best mother—Vanessa knew that much—but it would’ve been nice to talk things over with someone.