Read Online And One Last Thing... by Molly Harper - Free Book Online Page A

she said while nodding. “So let’s get down to business.”
    She opened my file. “Well, you’re probably one of the more interesting clients to walk through that door, mayonnaise jars aside,” she observed drily. “I think you should know that I’ve received forwarded versions of your e-mail from a dozen or so of my colleagues under the heading of, ‘Well, at least, we’re not representing her’ or similar.”
    “So I’ve gone viral?” I asked. “Great.”
    “Of course, they didn’t realize that I am representing you. I’m not afraid of the challenge, Lacey. Believe it or not, you’re not my first client to do something rash when faced with the betrayal of a spouse. I have a prepared speech I give to these clients; would you like to hear it?”
    “I don’t feel I’m in a position to refuse.”
    She cleared her throat and in a professional monotone, she said, “I understand that you are very upset. It’s natural to feel hurt and betrayed when your spouse has left you for someone else. In the heat of the moment we sometimes do and say things that we normally wouldn’t. If you’d shown your e-mail to my mother, she would have told you to put it in a drawer for three days and then decide whether you wanted to send it. Obviously, the genie is out of the bottle now - … okay, I’m sorry. I’m breaking from protocol. I’ve had clients change their outgoing messages to invite callers to press two to leave messages for ‘the cheating bastard.’ I even had one client start a blog called TheMillionWaysKevinlsAnAsshole.com. But I’ve never had someone abuse the internet the way you did. I have to ask, what the hell were you thinking?”
    I probably deserved much worse than that, so I took her bemused, exasperated tone with a grain of salt. “I may have gone a little too far, comparing Beebee to an Oompa Loompa,” I conceded. “I can’t say thinking had a lot to do with it. Mostly it was a reaction fueled by rage. Can I claim diminished mental capacity?”
    “Well, you certainly deserve it more than most of my clients, but I don’t think that would help. Professionally required scolding aside, I did think it was pretty funny. Just don’t ever, ever do it again. At least, don’t put your name on it, if you do. You’re just inviting threats to your legal/financial/physical health.”
    I handed her a file folder containing copies of Mike and Beebee’s e-mails and photos from Mike’s inbox. “It was just a onetime thing, I’m sure. Do you need me to sign something to that effect …?”
    Samantha quirked her lips. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Well, the good news is that there is precedence for judges, as in the case of the angry blogging ex-wife, to rule that these types of publications are protected by the First Amendment.”
    “That’s good!” I exclaimed, letting out a shaky, relieved breath.
    “Of course, in other cases, the courts have stated that these communications are inappropriate and the author should, in one judge’s words, ‘Shut the hell up and show some class.”
    “That’s bad.”
    She cleared her throat. “Now, on to the questions I ask every client: You need to decide how far you want to go. Do you want to get even? Do you want to recover some dignity? Or do you want to slink away and hope we can depend on the common sense of the court and win the defamation suit?”
    “Can I have some of column A and a little of column B? I don’t really want to skin him,” I admitted. “I just want what’s fair. Hell, half the stuff in that house, even the house, I don’t want it. I don’t want the condo. I don’t want the cars or the bass boat. And I could care less if he ends up paying me alimony. In fact, I don’t think I want monthly contact with him, even if it’s just through a check. I just want - I want enough to start over, to get on with my life.”
    Samantha smiled. “I take it you just happen to have detailed financial records for the entirety of