How to Kill Your Husband (11 page)

CHAPTER TEN

THE DIVORCE LAWYER

Claire stomped out of her Lexus bold and confident, but she was afraid and unsure again by the time she got off the elevator on the tenth floor. She approached suite 112 with weak legs that threatened to buckle any moment.

Go get back in your car before you ruin your marriage.

That was great advice. Claire was about to take it, but the suite she was approaching had glass doors and there was a secretary posted right up front. The woman looked up, and she and Claire made eye contact. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, and then the receptionist waved hello. Claire was obliged to wave back. The woman mouthed something that looked like,
You can come in
.

Claire coughed nervously. She stuck her head inside and asked, “Is this the Burns and Smiley law office?”

“Yes,” the secretary said. She was a redhead, about twenty-two years old. She had a serious acne problem, and she wore metal braces. She wasn't absolutely
hideous
, but she was nowhere near as attractive as she sounded over the phone. She wore a gray pants suit with a white blouse and black pumps.

“How may I help you?' she asked.

Claire stepped into the foyer and slowly made her way to the woman's desk. “My name is Claire
Hudgens
. I have an appointment with Mr. Smiley.”

“Oh, hi!” Her face brightened. “You're Becky's friend, right?”

Claire nodded.

“I'm Pat. I spoke with you earlier.”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “I was caught off guard when we talked. I, I really didn't plan on calling a lawyer today. Becky dialed the number and sort of
threw
the phone at me.”

“Good for her,” Pat said. “How's she doing?”

“She's great,” Claire said. “I thought I was never going to see her smile again after that mess with Brent, but she's back to her happy-go-lucky self now.”

“That's good,” Pat said. “I love Becky. She didn't deserve that.”

“None of us do,” Claire said.

“You're right.” Pat looked Claire in the eyes and held the gaze for a beat. “No one
ever
deserves to be cheated on.”

At that moment, Claire knew she would get along well with this woman.

Pat picked up her telephone and pressed a few digits. “Your two o'clock has arrived,” she announced into the receiver. A second later she said, “Yes, sir,” and hung up. “He's ready for you,” she told Claire. “It's that first office on your left.”

She pointed, and Claire followed her directions, wondering what sort of man might work behind that door. All Becky harped on was how cute he was
.
She said he did a good job, too, but she bragged on his attractiveness more than she did his résumé. Claire hoped that was coincidental.

It wasn't.

As soon as she walked into the office, Claire knew Mr. Smiley's physical attributes would stay on her mind long after she left the Mallick Towers. Becky said her lawyer was
cute
, but Claire would never disrespect him with such a weak description. This man was more of a
chocolate Adonis
. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was a lot of other things Claire wouldn't allow her mind to entertain, but Mr. Smiley was definitely not
cute
. Puppies are cute. Trevor was more like a black stallion.

He stepped around his desk and held a hand out for her to shake. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hudgens.”

Claire took it weakly, like a Southern belle. She almost curtsied and said,
How do you do?
“Hi.”

Mr. Smiley wore black slacks with a white button-down. He was a little over six feet tall with large hands and a bright smile. He had smooth, dark skin the color of a Hershey bar, and he was clean cut; with thin eyebrows and no facial stubble.

His hair was short, the same length all around. He had deep waves that reminded Claire of the ocean at night. He had a strong jaw line, a thin nose, and full lips. His eyes were deep ebony. Claire stared into them, and then looked away nervously.

“I'm, I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm a little uncomfortable about being here.”

“It's okay,” he said. “Have a seat and tell me what's going on.”

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Claire sat in it slowly and cradled her Coach bag in her lap. Mr. Smiley went back around to his side of the desk and plopped down in a leather executive chair. He leaned forward with his hands together and stared into her eyes again.

Claire was suddenly anxious to see what the
other
lawyer in this firm looked like. This would probably be a lot easier with an ugly guy.

“Uh,” she said and sighed. “I really don't know if I need to be here.”

“You're here for a reason.”

“It was, it was my friend, Becky,” Claire said. “Becky Adair. She was one of your clients.”

He smiled. “Yes, I remember Becky. How is she?”

“She's better,” Claire said. “She says you did a really good job on her case.”

“She suggested you call me?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “But I don't want to sound like a fool.”

“Women's intuition is strong,” Trevor said. “I believe in it
one hundred percent
. Just tell me what's on your mind.”

“All right,” Claire said. “I'm married. I've been married to my husband for sixteen years. I met him in high school, and he asked me to marry him when he went into the Air Force.”

Mr. Smiley nodded.

“I uh…” Claire wiped her forehead. “Is it hot in here?”

The lawyer chuckled. “No, ma'am.”

She looked around for the thermostat.

“Has something gone wrong in your marriage?” he prompted.

“I think so,” Claire said. “I mean, I'm pretty sure my husband is cheating on me.”

Trevor leaned back in his chair. “Why do you think that?”

“All right,” Claire said. “I'm just going to lay it out and you can tell me I'm crazy.”

“You're not crazy,” he said.

She smiled. “Well, thank you. But that would mean a lot more if you heard what I have to say first.”

“Okay,” he said. “I just thought it would be a lot easier for you to talk to me if you knew I don't think you're crazy.”

“All right,” Claire said. “Thanks. Okay, it all started about a month ago, on our anniversary.”

The lawyer gave her a look.

“Yeah, I know,” Claire said. “George—that's my husband—he gave me a gift that, that just
wasn't right
. It was a necklace, and it was
beautiful
, but I don't think it was for me. When he gave it to me, he said, ‘
I know how long you've wanted this
,' and I never told him I wanted a necklace at all.”

The lawyer nodded.

“That's crazy, right?” Claire asked.

“Why do you doubt yourself?”

“I don't know. I thought some people might think that was silly.”

“But it's not silly to you, is it?”

She shook her head. “No. It's not.”

“Then it's not silly to me,” he said, and Claire almost melted right then. “If you say you didn't ask for a necklace, I believe you.”

“All right.” Claire took a deep breath. “So I looked in his briefcase later that night, and I found a card.” She started to dig in her purse as she spoke. “It's just a Hallmark, and it doesn't say anything, you know,
bad
, but it made me wonder…” She produced the card and handed it over the desk.

“This is it?”

“Yes,” Claire said. “I was going to put it back, but I didn't want to go in his briefcase
twice
. I can't throw it away. I tried, but….” She got quiet while he read. When he looked up at her again, Claire looked away. “It's nothing, right?”

“I think a woman in love with him wrote this,” the lawyer said.

Claire met his eyes again. “Really?”

“I know there's more,” he said. “Tell me.”

Claire had no idea where he got so much insight, but it was really easy to talk to this man. “After I got suspicious, I started smelling him when he got home from work—my friend told me to do that.”

The lawyer cracked a big smile.

“I don't normally smell my husband,” she said.

He nodded, chuckling.

“George works at Boeing. He's an engineer. He works a lot, usually six days a week. I never thought anything of it until he gave me that necklace. Anyway, I started to smell him when he got in bed late at night, and sometimes George comes home smelling like he
just
bathed—like within the last thirty minutes. And a few days ago I smelled perfume. My girlfriends and I followed him one night when he was supposed to be playing poker.”

Trevor leaned forward with one eyebrow cocked.

“We saw him pick up a female and take her to a restaurant,” Claire said. “We didn't see them kissing or anything, and we don't know what type of relationship they have, but…”

“But you know, don't you?” Mr. Smiley asked.

Claire sighed. Her eyes started to water, so she looked up at the ceiling to keep the tears in. “The dinner by itself, maybe means nothing,” she said. “But all of it together—especially the showers—makes me think bad about him.”

“Do you and George have children?” Trevor asked.

“Yes. Three.”

“Do you own your house?”

Claire nodded.

Trevor nodded too and rubbed his smooth chin. “Let me ask you something,” he said. “If you had proof that your husband is cheating, what would you want to do?”

“Kill his ass,” Claire said quickly. She made eye contact again and her nostrils flared.

The lawyer grinned. “I'm not a hit man. Tell me what you want
me
to do for you.”

“I want to destroy him,” Claire said. “I want the house, the kids, the lake house, the cars—whatever he has. I want child support and alimony. I want to split the savings right down the middle. I want the kids' college funds in
my
name. I want to take away everything he cares about. I want to leave him so destitute no other bitch would ever want him—not even the one he has now.”

Trevor's eyes widened. “Wow.”

Claire shrugged. “You asked.”

He smiled. “You're right. I did.” He leaned forward in his seat again. “You know, if he's having the affair it sounds like he is, I can get you just about everything you're asking for. I can't promise he'll be
destitute
afterwards, but I can guarantee his lifestyle will take a serious nosedive. If he's an engineer, he'll probably recover, but it will take a decade to get his finances back in order. His life will never be as good as it was with you.”

Claire nodded. “You're reading my mind.”

“Two things,” Trevor said. “First off, if you were to hire me as your lawyer, a divorce of this magnitude would not be inexpensive. Once we win, we can get your husband to reimburse your legal fees, but that's not until after we win.”

“How much do I have to pay you?” Claire asked.

“I would need a three-thousand-dollar retainer.”

Claire nodded. She could get that out of their savings account, but George would notice it gone. If he didn't notice until after he got served with court papers, then it wouldn't matter.

“What else?” she asked.

“Well, we would need to get definitive
proof of his infidelities,” he said. “What you have is a good start, but it's not enough to take to court. He could say a co-worker wrote that card. He could say he showers before he gets home because he wants to be fresh for you. Does he work out?”

Claire nodded.

“See, that's even better. And as far as the dinner he had, that could be an old friend from high school. Maybe he met up with her casually. Maybe he didn't tell you because he knows you wouldn't believe him.”

“I would have believed him,” Claire said.

“That's your word against his,” Mr. Smiley countered.

Claire shook her head and put a hand over her mouth. “I knew it,” she said. “I shouldn't be here.”

“No, Mrs. Hudgens. That's not what I'm saying. I'm fully convinced your husband's cheating on you.”

Claire met his eyes, and they were warm and honest.

“And that's a shame,” he went on. “You're a beautiful black woman. A
strong
woman. You know how many wives have sat across from me and went to pieces over stuff like this? You deserve to be
loved
, and honored, and
respected
. I don't know anything about George personally, but he's a fool for not putting you first. Excuse me for saying that, but I don't bite my tongue.”