Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
DON’T TELL HIM I SAID THAT.
I laugh and message her back after I email his doctor and nurse for his file and also ask them what the best contact number is. Then I message her back.
Hey, it’s Zack. I just sent an email to his doctors for his file and also their contact number.
I’ll try my best to protect your brother, but he does piss off a lot of people.
I press send, then go back to reading an article that was just published. She answers me back.
Isn’t that the truth.
I don’t answer her; instead, I rest my head back and close my eyes. I don’t expect to fall asleep, but I do, and when the plane’s wheels touch the ground, I’m startled awake. I look down at the iPad to see that I haven’t missed any messages. When the plane stops, the first thing I do is turn my phone back on and put it in my pocket and grab my stuff. The hotel check-in is the same for every team. I’m getting my key from Olivier, and he stops me. “Check your email. I just sent you a name and number.” I nod at him, not asking for more. When I finally open the door to my room, I take in the king-size bed and small desk. I dump my bag on the desk and open my email.
From: Olivier Wilson
To: Zack Morrow
Subject: Lawyer Number
Here is everything that you need. Tell them I sent you and you should be good to go.
Liliane Spencer 212-347-2233
I dial the number right away, and the receptionist connects me right away.
“Mr. Morrow.” The voice comes through.
“Ms. Spencer,” I answer, “I got your number from Olivier.”
“I know. He already gave me the heads-up,” she starts. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for a divorce lawyer,” I start and take a big inhale. “I’d like to file for divorce.” No matter how many times I say it, I expect myself to feel something, but I don’t.
“Okay,” she says and then switches me to speakerphone. “I need to ask some questions.”
“Go ahead.”
“Was there a prenup?” she asks.
“Yes. Thank god, my father insisted on it,” I answer, and she doesn’t beat around the bush
“Good, that will work. She might just ask for more alimony.”
“I don’t give a shit; the only thing I want is sole custody of our son.”
“Mr. Morrow, the court usually expects the parents to share custody especially with your travel schedule.”
“My son has cancer.” No matter how many times I say that, I still get sick to my stomach.
“Where is the child now?” she asks, and the rustling of papers has stopped.
“Jack,” I say, “is with me in New York. She was having an affair with my teammate. The last time we spoke, she told me to sell the house. She’s been without our son for one week now and hasn’t made one fucking phone call to see how he is.”
“This is something we can work with,” she says. “Did you guys have joint properties?”
“Only the house,” I tell her. “Everything else is in my name and acquired before marriage,” I say of the summer house that I have in Kelowna, British Columbia, where we are both from. “Even my stock portfolio is covered thanks to the prenup.”
“So basically, it’s only community property,” she says. “Will she fight for custody?” she asks me.
“I don’t think so. She hasn’t done anything with him in over a year. She said she was emotionally distressed about him getting cancer, so she checked out, in more ways than one.”
“Let me draw something up,” she says. “Does she have a lawyer?”
“I have no clue,” I answer honestly. “Like I said, the last time I spoke with her, she was walking out of the house after I caught her in our bed with her lover.”
“Send me over her name, and we will have her served tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” I say. “You can bill me. My parents take care of all my paperwork, my mother actually.” I laugh, but my mother has always been my manager of sorts from the very beginning. It just made things easier for us, just like having everything in Dad’s name for him to make business decisions for me.
“Mr. Morrow, were you also having an affair?” she asks. “In order for me to represent you to the best of my ability, I need to know about all the skeletons in your closet.”
“Ms. Spencer, I was dedicated to my wife and my son. Did I love her? Probably not in the past couple of months. Was she a good mother? Fuck, no. Was she great eye candy? She sure was. My focus for the past year has been Jack and making sure that he lived to his sixth birthday.”
“I understand,” she says. “I just don’t want to get blindsided.”
“There is nothing for me to hide,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.