tickets? My head on a stick? What would it take to have you on my side?’
The smile was finally in place. No teeth but definite lifts to the corners of her mouth. ‘You want me on your side?’
Sebastian nodded. He had the distinct feeling Gloria could make it difficult for him otherwise.
‘Then be on Romy’s side,’ Gloria said, melting enough to give him a chummy pat on the arm before she headed to work. And Sebastian watched her go with the feeling she may have been on to something even more inspired than he.
By the time Gloria arrived for work Romy had showered and changed into a much more appropriate little black dress with killer stiletto mules and had worked herself up into a right temper. She paced back and forth as Gloria took pages of notes about the meetings they would hold that day.
‘When’s my first appointment?’ Romy asked.
‘She’s here. Mrs Libby Gold. She’s fresh meat so be gentle. She looks nervous as an ant at an anteater convention.’ Gloria drew a broad concluding line under her notes. ‘You had Pilates this morning, did you not?’
‘I did.’
‘Aren’t you taking the classes for stress release?’
‘I am.’
‘And do you think you are getting your money’s worth?’
Romy stopped pacing and turned to her assistant, who was staring cross-eyed at portions of her short, spiky fringe which she was systematically pinching between her fingertips.
Romy sat deliberately on the corner of her desk and clasped her taut hands together in her lap. ‘I had a visitor after class who undid all the instructor’s fine work.’
‘That doesn’t seem fair. Maybe you should get Mr Fox to reimburse you.’
Romy could do nothing but stare. ‘Well, maybe I should. What he suggested was just plain ridiculous.’
‘I thought the makeover idea was whacko at first but it has kind of grown on me.’
Romy blinked. ‘Nothing gets by you does it, Gloria?’
‘Not a thing. And for that you should be thankful. But you will do it anyway, won’t you?’ Gloria asked.
‘Of course I darned well will. He practically dared me and you know I can’t refuse a challenge.’
And the guy was a clean slate. Malleable. If she could find Sebastian Fox, of all men, a woman with whom he would really settle down then it would prove that marriage could still work today. What a coup that would be.
And what an affirmation.
‘Though how you noticed his challenge when that fine butt of his was walking by I have no idea.’
This coming from the woman who the previous week had told all and sundry that all men were chief purveyors of low self-esteem in women. ‘I can’t believe you noticed his butt when that fine ego of his was walking by.’
Gloria shrugged. ‘Maybe there’s more to him than the dossier suggested.’
‘You do realise you are talking about a man, do you not?’
‘And what a man—’
Romy pointed to her office door. ‘Out.’
Gloria peeled her diminutive frame from the large chair. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Romy shot one more look at her clock. ‘Send in Libby Gold and then as soon as she’s gone patch me through to Alan Campbell.’
Gloria turned at the door and shot Romy a cheeky grin. ‘Mr Fox’s lawyer?’
‘He just so happens to be.’
Gloria winked. ‘Shall do, boss.’
Romy spent the next fifty minutes with Libby Gold, who for fifteen years had been the wife of a man who had made a fortune in toothpaste. She was sweet, she was matronly and she had no idea how she had found herself in a lawyer’s office talking divorce.
Privately Romy was glad Libby had come to her as she knew she would take extra-special care of her. Taking her through the process slowly and surely. And taking her philandering husband to the cleaners.
‘But what does that make the last fifteen years of my life?’ Libby asked. ‘A waste? I cannot handle the thought.’
‘You can handle it, Libby, because it has not been a waste. It has been a grand lesson. For you both. He will pay for his mistake and you will come out of it with knowledge and experience and a tidy fortune to tide you over.’
‘What good is money if I don’t have Jeffrey? I can’t bake a favourite meal for money. I can’t rest my head on money’s shoulder while watching a movie. People are what counts. People are what makes your life a life. Money has no memory.’
What could Romy say to that? The poor woman’s mind was settled, for today anyway. Romy would win her around to the knowledge that the future was out there for the taking. That the man for her was still out there. And Romy had not lost a client back to their spouse once. Not ever. And she was not willing to start now.
Romy stood and patted her client on the shoulder. ‘See Gloria on your way out and she’ll tee you up for our next session.’
Once Libby was gone, Romy buzzed Gloria’s intercom. ‘Can you get Alan for me, Gloria?’
‘I don’t think now’s the right time,’ her voice mumbled through the black box on Romy’s desk. ‘We’ve had quite a spate of correspondence since you’ve been busy.’
She nibbled at a little fingernail. ‘Well, are you going to tell me what the correspondence says?’
‘Oh. Sure.’
Romy heard the squeak of Gloria’s chair and she ambled into the office with a fresh cup of chamomile tea and bundle of faxes in her hands.
‘What have you got there, my sweet?’ Romy asked.
‘Faxes.’
Romy took a deep calming breath. ‘Saying?’
‘The first came from Alan saying Mr Golf Pro has ceased services with his firm and to send any further correspondence to his new firm. And confirming usual drinks tonight at Fables?’ Gloria looked up with questioning eyebrows.
Romy nodded vigorously. ‘Sure. Go on.’
‘Next came one from Mr Golf Pro saying that he is coming on board with us. The header showed that fax was sent to all the partners as well.’
‘Of course it was,’ Romy groaned, feeling herself sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand that surrounded Sebastian Fox.
‘Aah. Alan must have found out who Sebastian’s new law firm is. A few rude words in this one. I might keep a photocopy for the Christmas party.’ Gloria looked
