Kim looked at her watch. It was 1:47 by its time and she was just pulling up in front of Mr. Jeffries’s house. It was a lavish southwestern style estate with pygmy palm trees garnishing the front entrance. The walk was paved with large stones instead of cement and the grounds were impeccably kept.
Kim looked down at the business card Rachael had given her a few months ago.
ERIC M. JEFFRIES
Attorney at Law
It still had his old Los Angeles address and phone number printed beneath the title.
Rachael told her that Mr. Jeffries had moved to San Francisco to care for his ailing mother not long after he finished up with Rachael’s brief brush with the law. The asshole that plowed into her Mercedes on the I-405 had the audacity to sue
her
for negligence. Rachael presumed he had taken one look at her car and saw dollar signs.
It was an easy open and shut case, but it had taken five months out her life and almost ten thousand dollars out of her trust fund. Still, Rachael thought Eric was an incredible lawyer. Ten times the worth of her last one that she fired after only two weeks. Eric cost her ten grand but he saved her over a hundred thousand in the suit and for that, she was extremely grateful.
Kim’s problem, she thought, wouldn’t be quite so dramatic but the consequences of the outcome more dire.
Eric was not only a criminal and claims lawyer, but he also moonlighted as a divorce attorney when the occasion (and the cash) called for it.
Kim walked up the curved pathway, eyeing the brightly colored flowers outlining it. She rang the doorbell and listened to the chime that reminded her of church bells.
A short, pudgy white man in a gray suit, sans the jacket, opened the door. He had black, graying hair that was rapidly receding at the front causing his head to shine in the sunlight. He had a long slender nose that was home to the oddly oversized glasses crowning his face.
“Kimberly Brown, I presume?”
“Yes, Eric?” Kim said extending her hand to him.
He grabbed it with a firm and arduous shake. His smile was from ear to ear.
“Rachael never told me how beautiful her younger sister was,” he said, his eyes scanning her body from head to toe. She was wearing a white short-sleeved cashmere sweater and a pair of form fitting blue jeans. Eric released her hand and unconsciously licked his lips.
“Please, won’t you come in?”
Eric opened his door wide enough for Kim to pass through and closed the door behind her.
Stepping inside, to Kim, the house looked like the interior of a palace. Kim’s own house was nothing to scoff at, but this,
this
was pure paradise to her.
“You have a such beautiful home, Mr. Jeffries,” she said gushing, her eyes twinkling as she looked around.
“Thank you,” he said smiling.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea perhaps?”
Kim shook her head.
“No, I’m fine thank you.”
“Fine then, I suppose you want to get right down to business.” He guided her through a large oak door just to the right of the elaborate staircase in the center of the hallway. Kim looked up the winding steps wondering what lay at their peak.
“Please,” he said motioning her through the door.
The room was big and fairly empty save for a solid wood office desk with leather chair, another plush velvet cushioned chair facing the front of his desk, a few scattered bookshelves and a black leather sofa off to the side of the room.
“Have a seat.” He motioned her toward the red client chair across from his desk.
He had a set of papers already laying in a neat little pile on his otherwise empty desk. Kim looked down at the words “decree of dissolution of marriage” on the first sheet and concluded they were most likely for her.
Eric sat on the edge of the front of his desk, directly in front of her and unapologetically roamed his eyes across her chest.
“Are these for m—,” Kim said reaching out for the stack of papers on his desk, her fingers barely touching them before Eric moved them backwards on the table, almost slipping them over the edge.
“We’ll get to that in a second,” he said with an odd grin on his face.
“First I want to know what form of -- compensation you’ll be using.”
“Well --,” Kim said blindsided. “I have a check, credit card or even debit if you’d prefer.”
“Or?” Eric asked, his brown eyes steeled onto hers.
“Or what!?” She asked almost yelling. “Can you help me or not?”
“Yes, I can help you, Kimberly,” he said running his finger down the plunging neckline of her blouse. “But only If you help me in return.”
“What!?”
Eric let his hand drop from her blouse and glared at her with a look of concern.
“You don’t share the same –“ Eric paused trying to find the appropriate word.
“Disposition,” he said, looking satisfied with the one he’d chosen. “that your sister has do you, Kimberly?” He glanced down at the divorce documents behind him, then back up at her placing his hand on her thigh.
“Her disposition?” Kim gawked. Her eyes were wide as she tried to slink away from his intruding hand.
“You enjoy the company of men, yes? I mean --,” he looked down at the papers laid out on the table again. “You married one, didn’t you?”
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Kim said standing abruptly.
Eric sighed and shook his head.
