Angel wonders how legit the proposition was.
We were both unlike ourselves on the car ride back to Trevor's, the sun just barely dipping below the western horizon when we left the coffee shop, but it would be gone by the time we reached home. It didn't help that Abbie took an unusually long route home, but I didn't say anything, nor did I mind. It gave me more time to mess with all the thoughts jumbling around in my head.
Was it even legit? Why would I have any reason to trust either of them? Actually, I didn't. I had fucked her husband, and whether she knew it or not, both her son and her daughter. Why would I then for a second put any trust in Elizabeth Facelli? And then there was her lawyer. Maybe to the rich they were like best friends, but not from my side of the tracks. Lawyers, police, politicians... someone like me doesn't really get the benefit of the doubt. I had no reason to trust Steven Granger either.
"I can't even believe I bothered to go," I half joked in the face of Abbie's silence part way through the ride home, hoping to elicit a response from her, any kind of response. It wasn't like her to be so silent and sullen, and it worried me. She was always so cheerful, at least around me. It was one thing we had always shared, but now it had seemed to disappear. Still Abbie returned nothing, she just continued to focus on driving the car, as it oblivious to the fact that I was in the passenger's seat.
"What a fucking waste of time," I laughed, but still Abbie said nothing, only furthering my concern. I got this horrible feeling that I was just talking to myself.
"I mean, I don't owe that bitch anything," I snickered, perhaps trying to convince myself of that, or maybe Abbie, or who the fuck knows. Abbie still said nothing in response, but she did at last turn to me to look at me for a brief moment, her expression... well I couldn't be entirely sure. It looked sad, and yet it looked angry at the same time. It looked warm and understanding, and yet it looked cold and piercing as well. If I had to guess, it was a combination of "I love you" and "fuck you" at the same time, a mixture of "I'd do anything for you" but a bit of "get your head out of your ass" too.
It wasn't often between me and Abbie where we didn't have anything to say. It wasn't often when we found more comfort not being with each other. I'd daresay we never got to the point where we couldn't even look each other in the eye, but I guess there is a first time for everything. I slumped back down into my seat and I just sat there, nearly blinding myself as I pulled down my sunglasses, even though night was fast approaching.
I could cry on cue for any client that wanted me to. That was easy. It was a far more difficult task holding back from doing so, so that no one could see.
Fifteen more minutes of complete silence, and me trying to desperately hold on to my composure, and we arrived back at Trevor's. I hurriedly moved to exit the car, only to be held back by the first of Abbie's words to sound out since leaving the coffee shop.
"Celina," she said softly, her voice loving and caring, but her eyes stern and determined. "Take it," she said, at last seeming to come to a decision about her own thoughts.
"Take their offer."
And then she turned from me and from the car, making her way back into the house. We were inseparable most of the time, but we returned to Trevor's as if two separate entities, alone. Abbie went straight to her room and began changing, her "date" only a few hours or so away, our meeting taking longer than either of us had anticipated. Abbie hadn't thought it would last longer than the time it took her to tell Mrs. Facelli to go fuck herself, and honestly, neither had I really. What should have taken thirty seconds, ended up taking quite a bit longer. Abbie didn't have much time left to doll herself up for her own meeting, even though with our "friends" we don't stay dressed for too long, and so we parted ways before even entering the house.
I was glad I didn't have to work this night, sex honestly the last thing I wanted to think about. I went straight to Trevor's and my room and locked the door behind me, glad that he wasn't home. I curled myself into a tight ball on the recliner, hugging my knees hard to my chest, and I cried, unable to get all that had just happened out of my head.
"I want a divorce from my husband," Elizabeth Facelli had said... the entire meeting wouldn't stop playing over and over in my mind.
- - -
"I want a divorce from my husband."
The words set me back, and even though Abbie was essentially clueless towards the situation, the words shocked even her. Why would Elizabeth Facelli set a meeting to tell me this? And why did she think any of it involved me? What made her even think that I should give a fuck what happens between her and her family?
"Mrs. Facelli," it was Steven who eventually came to elaborate, I suppose noting our completely dumbfounded confusion. "You see, had filed for a civil annulment to her marriage six years ago," he laid out. "However, her husband refused to grant her one, and had the very existence of the divorce filing destroyed."
"In order for my client to now present a case to the courts to get her marriage annulled without the consent of the other party is to..." Steven went on, before I could not help but interrupt.
"Wait, you're her
divorce
attorney??" I gasped in surprise, once I realized there was probably nothing this guy knew or could hold over me.
"Yes," Steven returned simply, stammering a little bit with his words before continuing on. "Umm... it to provide evidence of wrongdoing against their traditional wedding vows, such as..."
"Fucking a hooker?" I interjected a bit too loudly, garnering even more attention from the surrounding eyes.
"Umm..." Steven muttered nervously, nodding his head slightly. "Well, yes," he acknowledged. "Evidence of infidelity would suffice..."
"You see, with your help, Mrs. Facelli could..." Steven went on, only to be interrupted by me again. He had a horrible inability to get to the fucking point.
"So you want me to go to court and admit to fucking her husband!?" I almost laughed, wondering how these rich, "educated" folk could be so fucking stupid. "So she could get her happy little divorce, and I could go to jail?" I snickered, having heard enough and standing as though ready to leave as I took Abbie's hand.
"You would not go to jail," Steven assured me, almost desperately rushing out the words to keep me from leaving. "that I can assure you of," he went on, but I couldn't help but not be convinced. Again, lawyers I had found through experience were never really on my side. It was honestly only Abbie, who still remained seated, gazing at the two of them from behind her dark sunglasses silently that kept me from leaving. She was my ride, after all.
"We already have a judge lined up who is willing to hear the case, one who can commit to a sentence of mild rehabilitation, and..." Steven went on, as though any of this was still working to my favor. Again I turned to leave, nearly yanking on Abbie's arm to get her to stand.
"Please, wait," Steven this time sounded to simply beg, seeming more endeared to this case than Mrs. Facelli was herself. What the fucking rich wouldn't do for a buck, I thought. "Monthly check ins with a parole officer, for no more than six months," he laid out, at least for once in his life able to be blunt with his information and get straight to the point. "Please, it would cost you no more than three hours of your life over the next six months."
I stopped, but just for a moment, and not because of anything that he said. It was really just kitten-like curiosity that just had to make me ask.
"What's in it for me?"
"Well, Mrs. Facelli and I have discussed this," Steven began again, still speaking in haste, noting my readiness to simply disappear at any given moment. "And after her case I would be willing to represent you as a client. Pro bono of course," he finished, a hopeful and expectant look upon his face.
"Pro what?" I blinked, not understanding.
"Pro bono," Steven repeated. "It means for free. I would represent your interests in court for free, Miss Marsdan," he went on, and I don't know what made me angrier, the word "free" in response to my question, or the fact that this whole time they had known my real name.
"What the fuck use do I have for a divorce attorney!?" I returned bitterly, feeling my time entirely wasted now. I should have taken Abbie's advice and never come here.
"Um... well, while I am representing Mrs. Facelli in her divorce," Steven tried to explain, though even at this point Abbie could not help but see futility in this entire endeavor, at last rising to her feet to leave with me. "It is more as a favor to a friend," he went on hastily, before we could leave. "You see my actual area of expertise is gender equality law," Steven added hopefully. "You know, women's rights."
Both Abbie and I stopped for a moment and turned. I could see Steven's face grow hopeful, and almost shine in pride as though he had at last convinced us to hear them out. For such an idiot I almost felt bad about popping his little bubble. Yet again it seemed as though I had to spell it out letter by letter to get him to understand.
"Let me rephrase," I snickered rather harshly.
"
How much
