“I knew you’d say that. Gods, girl, has anyone ever told you that you’re honest to a fault?”
“You.”
“Right, that’s why I immediately threw that possibility out. The second way is if we can make a case that it’s unconscionable. That means that it’s so grossly unfair to one party that it wouldn’t be ethical for the court to allow it to stand. I’ve asserted this all along and already filed this with the courts. What he’s done to you, restricting your ability to work but then not allowing you access to any of his assets, is cruel in every sense. However, you were married only two years and have no children. His lawyers will likely say you entered the marriage with nothing, and you were the one who left Tony, so therefore, you are no worse off than before you met him. And honestly, that one could go either way with the judge.”
“What’s the last way?”
“If you can prove that he had or has assets that he did not fully disclose before you signed, it nullifies the prenup. That wouldn’t immediately save Harcourt Manor, but with half of his assets on the line, it gives you a hell of a lot more to negotiate with.”
I rub my jaw, memories storming back to the time he whacked me across the face. “I think he does have undisclosed assets,” I say quickly, and I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. “The first time he hit me, it was because I’d found him paying an invoice charged to a company with a logo I didn’t recognize. Gold Weaver. He told me to mind my own business. He was so defensive. His reaction was just crazy. There’s something there. I know it.”
“Can you get your hands on that invoice?”
I think for a second. “Probably not, but I bet Damien could if I called him again. Is it okay if I keep the candle a little longer?”
“As long as you need it.” Maeve clears her throat. “Eloise, just be careful, okay? The advocate?—”
“Damien.”
“I’ve watched him kill men without a second thought.” The line goes silent for a beat while I consider how to respond to that.
“Understood,” I finally blurt. “Thanks, Maeve, for everything.”
“You’re welcome. One day this will all be behind us. I’m not sure we’ll ever laugh about it, but someday we will sit on your porch, drinking mimosas, so far beyond this that we couldn’t care less about Tony Denardi.”
“We won’t even remember his name.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I should go. Grams is having a rough day,and I need to prepare the symbol if I’m going to call Damien back tonight.”
“One more thing before you go...” Maeve’s voice sounds serious. “We have a court date.”
“Oh? When is it?” Maeve previously told me to expect six months to a year to get a date.
“October 19th”
“That can’t be right. That’s a month from today.”
“Yes. It’s the fastest date anyone in my firm has ever heard of. Even in cases without a prenup where adultery and domestic violence can be proven, it usually takes longer. The only explanation I can think of is that Tony paid someone off to accelerate the proceedings.”
I close my eyes and curse. In the back of my mind, I always thought Grams might pass before my court date, which would give me time to follow her final wishes and have her buried on the property before Tony took possession of the place. I hate thinking that way. I want to believe that Grams can hold on for another six months, maybe even a year. But in the back of my mind, I’ve counted on the probability of a scenario where the timing works out.
That fucking weasel. This is too fast. It’s cruel and spiteful.
“That’s terrible timing, Maeve. Grams is getting worse. In a month, moving her will be painful for her.”
“I know. And I can try to use that to have the date moved. Only, if Tony can manage to get a court date in thirty days in this state, he likely has the judge in his back pocket. My recommendation is that whatever skeletons you think you can pull out of his closet, you do it quickly. If we go to court without some hard evidence, we will lose.”
I push away the rest of my sandwich. “I understand.”
I don’t understand.Not anything. Not how my ex can get away with what he’s doing or why God, if he exists, would take Grams from me right when everything is going to hell. I try not to think about what could go wrong and instead focus on what’s in front of me —spending quality time with Grams while I have the chance.
Evening falls on Harcourt Manor. Grams wakes, but barely eats, although I manage to get some herbal tea in her. I tell myself that we have time, and I try to make the most of what moments remain. I cuddle next to her in bed and read to her from one of her favorite novels. She pays for internet service and has Wi-Fi, but it rarely works out here, which means we have a choice between five television channels. I pop in one of her favorite movies,Somewhere In Time, and we pretend to watch it while we talk about her childhood. She tells me all her favorite stories again, and I whisper that I love her as she drifts off to sleep.
Only when I'm sure she’s out for the night do I creep from her room and prepare again to call Damien.
12
