“Five weeks? I can’t wait five weeks. Please, is there anything you can do?”
“I’m sorry, we’re fully booked.”
I hear the clicking of heels behind me and turn around. An attractive older woman is walking towards us.
“Is there a problem?” The receptionist straightens.
“Not at all, Ms Rosenbaum.”
I stare at the sign—“Whitlow & Rosenbaum.” “Please, I really need your help.” I pull out my black card. “I can pay. I just need an annulment. Please.”
She checks her watch. “Follow me, gentlemen. I have a few minutes.”
We follow her to a corner office—all wood and big glass windows we take a seat in the large leather chairs, and she logs into the computer.
“Okay, so an annulment, if uncontested, can take around six months. If your wife—”
“Husband,” I interrupt.
“—husband wants to drag this out in court, well, the sky’s the limit.”
“Wait, what? I can’t wait that long. I need it to be done straightaway.”
“Well, we’ll need to serve your husband, and then he’ll have two weeks to acknowledge, and then we can proceed.”
I stand up and start pacing. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“Mr…” She trails off.
“Christian,” I mutter.
“Ricci,” Darius corrects, and I scowl at him.
“Yeah, I suppose, Ricci.”
“Ricci?” Her eyes go wide. “Mr Ricci? Your husband is?”
“Bellino Ricci. Can you help me?”
She stares for a moment. Turning from the computer to face me, she steeples her fingers together. “Unfortunately, my next appointment is here.”
“What?” I glance around. There’s no one here.
“Unfortunately, Mr Ricci, I’m unable to help you.” She stands and gestures to the door.
I pick up my bag. “Can’t or won’t?” I ask.
“Have a good day, Mr Ricci.”
I turn and storm out. Clearly, my husband is better known than I thought. I don’t stop until I climb in the car. Darius follows along behind me.
“Leo?”
“Don’t, Darius, looks like I’m stuck.”
“She’s only one person.”
“You saw the change in her when I said his name.”
