Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Dylan flashes through my mind. The same way he has been for the past few days. He’s always there. I push it back down because I don’t know what to make of him. Plus, his ex is right here. Besides, I'll probably never see him again.
Little did I really know…
Chapter Seven
DYLAN
“Thanks for meeting me here.” Michael Montclair leafs through the contract I handed him.
I squint at the sign above the window that says Bridal Dreams. “You think this is the right place to hand over a prenuptial agreement?”
“There’s no wedding without the prenup.” He stops on page four, which outlines all the penalties for breaking the agreement including a five million dollar penalty, relinquishment of all rights to spousal support, and payment of child support into a trust handled by the Montclair banking arm. Essentially, the wife gets nothing but debt for leaving him. If Michael cheats, violates the agreement, or some other thing to break the trust between them, the wife has to either continue in the marriage or leaves with a payout—determined by the number of years married less the amount of gifts she’s received times a yet to be negotiated sum. This is all wrapped up with an ironclad nondisclosure clause. “What do you think this payout number should be?”
Millions is too small. “Michael, you’re mammothly rich. Do you really need this?”
“You’re a lawyer. Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to have agreements like this for everything in my life? I mean, pretty sure you drafted the NDAs for all my employees including the personal chef that just drops off my food once a week.”
“That’s what you pay me for.” This is one of the reasons I’m getting out of this business. It’s soul sucking. You create nothing, build nothing. Watching my own hands make something out of a string of yarn was like watching the sun rise for the first time. I hadn’t realized that was something I was capable of. I liked that feeling.
“Luna’s different. She knows this is coming and wants it.”
“Luna?” Dread creeps up the back of my neck. There can’t be too many girls named Luna recently engaged to a man with enough money to buy her a five-carat diamond.
“Luna Miller. She’s in HR or used to be. She’s going to quit and stay at home. We’re going to have kids right away. Come in and meet her.” He opens the door.
“I’m good.” Wednesday is right around the corner, and if Luna finds out I’m behind this mess, Natalie will probably never talk to me again.
“No, come on.” He pulls on my wrist. “I want you to meet her. Plus, if she has any questions, you can answer them.”
“You can email them to me.”
“Michael, you’re here. Finally. We’ve been waiting for you.” Frankie’s welcoming gesture halts in midair as she catches a glimpse of me. “Dylan? What are you doing here?”
“This is my lawyer, Frankie. Dylan Wolfson, an actual legal wunderkind. Graduated top of his class at Harvard, clerked for Justice Bergmann of the Supreme Court—”
“We’ve met before.” I had to cut Michael off. Hearing my credentials being listed like I’m a dog show entrant is embarrassing.
“We have indeed.” Frankie’s eyes are narrowed. She’s suspicious, and I don’t blame her because why is the groom’s lawyer at the wedding dress shop?
“Natalie here?” I wonder. I hope the answer is no.
“Of course. You should come in.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
Between Michael and Frankie, retreat is impossible. Besides, I do want to see Natalie. It’s been five days, and I can’t get her out of my head. Natalie’s a lawyer. Hopefully she’ll understand that I did what I was hired to do, no matter how distasteful.
All legal thoughts are wiped out when Frankie opens the door. The girl on the pedestal in front of five giant mirrors is not Luna. It’s Natalie. She’s dressed all in white with her shoulders bared. The satin wraps around her torso to form a sort of sunburst that starts at her waist and spreads outward. The skirt portion is large but not so big it looks like a wedding cake.
“Breathe, friend.” Frankie smirks beside me.
If I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, could I find an officiant to marry us before someone could stop me? I take a step forward.
“Dylan?” Natalie gasps. She throws her hands over her chest as if to hide herself from me. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s my lawyer—” Michael starts the introduction again.
“I drafted the prenup.” I lance the boil before it can fester and grow. “Don’t sign anything until you have your own lawyers look it over.” I direct that to Luna, who is also wearing a wedding dress, but I didn’t notice until just now. My entire world was focused on Natalie. A bomb could have gone off, and I probably wouldn’t have figured it out until we were crawling out of the dust and broken concrete.