Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Again, that was a thought for another day.
Chapter 9
Bella
As much as it pained me to say it, let alone think it, Derek had come through with connecting me to a lawyer who could help me navigate the bullshit custody attempt by Nicola’s parents. Ian Volkov was exactly what I expected, with slicked back blond hair, icy green eyes and flawless porcelain skin that made him look every bit the action movie villain. To complete the look, he wore a dark three-piece suit complete with a diamond encrusted tie pin and emerald cufflinks. Everything about this man screamed money, and I just hoped his retainer was reasonable by normal people’s standards.
Ian read the letter from the lawyer I handed him when I first walked into his cavernous office. He must have read it at least a dozen times before he called for his secretary to make ten copies, finally, he turned his attention and those icy green eyes to me.
“You have the will and custody papers?”
I nodded and handed them to his waiting secretary with a friendly smile. “That’s everything.”
Ian nodded, his expression inscrutable as he took in my appearance. I wasn’t dressed up, not compared to Ian and his secretary, but I’d made an effort for the meeting with a pair of jeans and a crisp white shirt with buttons. It was professional. Ish.
“I’m not going to lie to you Anabella.”
“Call me Bella, please. If you’re going to help me keep Everest, we don’t need to be quite so formal.”
He smiled. “This is going to cost a pretty penny,” he said and his smile grew wider. “That’s the bad news. When claims are made and children are involved, there is so much bullshit to slog through. Social workers, child care experts and home visits to prove you’re the perfect mother, it all takes time, which for you and me, means money.”
My shoulders sank at his words. Money was something I had, but nothing close to what it sounded like I would need. Home visits when I was an adequate housekeeper and cook, at best. It sounded like I was being set up for failure. “Okay,” I nodded. “Is there any good news?”
“Oh yeah, that’s the best part. If what you told me is true, they don’t stand a chance in hell. That kid is yours, and he will stay that way.”
“You sure?”
“Hell yes, I’m sure.”
I nodded as a wave of relief washed over me. “Everything I told you is true,” I assured him, suddenly feeling buoyed by his confidence. I reached into the oversized handbag I brought with me to carry everything, and produced a thick manila envelope. “Nicola thought of everything. She gave me this, just in case, which I didn’t understand at the time, but now I do.”
Ian’s eyes lit up as he dumped the items on his desk, years’ worth of unopened letters featuring photos, invitations and holiday cards, all marked ‘Return to Sender’. It was a sad indictment on her parents, but based on Ian’s giddy expression, they would help my case. “This is good. Really good,” he said with a beaming smile. “Too bad your friend isn’t around, she sounds great.”
“She was,” I said sadly. Missing Nicola was as much a part of me as breathing. She was the only person who ever really got me, and without her I felt a part of me was missing.
Ian folded his hands over the stacks of unopened mail and sighed. “Bella, I need absolute honesty from you throughout this process. No matter how bad you think something is, it’s better that I know so I can anticipate how to mitigate it. Surprises can lead to disaster.”
I nodded. “Absolute honesty. You got it.”
“Tell me about your sex life,” he began, as if we were old friends.
I laughed. “What sex life? Hell, what’s sex?” It wasn’t a joke, but laughing about it was better than crying about it. “I haven’t dated or had sex with anyone in more than two years.”
“Lesbian?”
“No, just terrible at picking good men. Twice divorced, and not looking to repeat either of those mistakes.”
He nodded and scribbled a few notes. “Drugs? Alcohol? Addiction problems?”
“Smoked a little pot in college, but nothing else before or since. I have a deep and abiding love for Maker’s Mark, but never more than a glass or two, and not every night.” This was really invasive, but if it meant keeping Everest with me, I’d slice myself open and let him examine my insides.
“Mental illness?”
“No, and no history of it in my family.” Thoughts of my family forced a wistful sigh from my chest. “I’m not close with my family, and by not close, I mean estranged. I speak to my parents once a week, but I have siblings I haven’t spoken to in years.”
“Did you sleep with your sister’s husband or something? Abuse the little ones?”