“Or what?” I challenge him head-on.
“Or I’ll have security remove you,” his dad helps.
I turn my attention to Senior and smile. “You want to do that anyway. Heed my warning, try that and this whole damn country club will hear what I came here to say. Your choice. You hear it or everyone.”
I tap my fingers on the table while I wait for his answer. His steak looks delicious, but I ignore it.
“What do you want, whore?”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s where Wes Junior learns how to communicate. Save your names, I’ve heard enough from your son; it won’t offend me. Ready to be an adult?”
Senior bristles at my statement. I don’t give a fuck. I open the folder.
“Here are our divorce papers. I’ve been trying to get Junior over here to sign them for months; yet, something keeps happening to prevent that. I’ve made three copies. One for me, one to be filed, and one for my lawyer to have in case your son tries his special brand of bullshit again.”
“He told me he did this already.”
I nod. “He did, then I magically ended up in the ocean where the papers floated away.” I slide a paper over to Wes. “Sign them again.”
Wes stares at me with an icy rage in his eyes. “I’m not signing a damn thing, I don’t know what you have in them. You can meet me at my lawyer’s office, Monday.”
“Hell no. You will sign them right now today. This is the exact same copy of the one you signed.”
“How do you know? You said you landed your clumsy ass in the ocean.”
I took the subtle reminder for what it was. “First, my lawyer has a copy. Second, there is a wonderful thing called, ‘technology and cloud storage.’ My files backed up. I have the picture you sent me of the signed papers.”
I shrug nonchalantly. “I mean I could go through this entire process again, but I promise it won’t be mediation. I will take it to trial.”
“You’re bluffing. You can’t afford the lawyers we have,” Senior argued.
“Try me.”
Senior laughs again. “You are a pathetic idiot.”
“Again with the names. Is your vocabulary really that limited? While you have money, you forget that your son is a jackass to everyone he meets with your encouragement. There are plenty of lawyers who are willing to go to war for free because they hate him that much. I don’t need you to believe me. Just keep fucking with me, and I’ll see your baby boy in court. Although there is a lot about our relationship you don’t want public. Your choice.”
“Wow. Such strong language for someone who swears she’s a lady,” his dad taunts.
I roll my eyes skyward. “I’m starting to think you’re slow. Look, we can exchange verbal jabs all you want, but like I said before, you cannot hurt my feelings. Besides, your son is better at insults. What’s it gonna be, Pops? Sign the papers here and finish your dinner or have your reputation dragged through the dirt right before the election?”
His blue eyes are as stormy as his son’s. “Are you threatening me?”
I shake my head. “No. Those are literally your only two options. Let me out of this terrible marriage and ridiculous family now, or we’ll do it the public, messy way. Either way, I want out.”
“You must be really low on money and desperate to get half of my son’s net worth…”
“Or your son is a terrible person who I really hate and don’t want to see ever again in life. I know that’s hard for you to believe since he’s so much like you and all…” I reach in the folder and pull out the alternate paper Beau suggested. “I’ll make you a deal. If Junior over here signs these, I’ll still leave, and you will never hear from me again.”
Weston Sr. grabbed the papers and perused them. “So you’re saying all I have to do is get my son to sign these papers and give you two-million?”
“Yup.”
“And you’ll walk away forever?
“With pleasure.”
His smile spreads like he’s made a profound discovery. “I knew you didn’t have a case. This is what you wanted all along.”
