His Sub by Ellis O. Day
CHAPTER 17: Terry
Terry circled a line on the itemized asset list before handing it to Dan, one of the newer lawyers at the firm. “Talk to our client about this, but first do some digging.”
“Digging? On what? That’s one of their six houses.” Dan stared at the paper.
“Yes, but look at what they’re stating the value is.” He watched the younger man. He was willing to teach but the student needed some instincts.
“It’s lower than the other properties but it says here that Mr. White’s parents live there.” Dan looked up at him, as if that explained everything.
“And he, therefore, wants to keep it in the divorce.” Terry tapped his pen on the desk.
“Well, yeah. Mrs. White’s not contesting that.”
“But we should.”
“Terry.” Dan sounded disgusted. “His parents live there.”
“Really? Do you know this for a fact?”
“No, but he wouldn’t lie about—”
“During a divorce, everyone lies about everything.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.” He’d learned that from his own divorce. Morgan, his ex, had lied constantly and had taken everything they’d built—their house, their cars, his firm and his kids. He’d had to start all over. “Does Mr. White seem like the type of man to put his parents in a less than stellar home?”
“Ah…no. Actually, he doesn’t.”
“So, either they don’t live there or that property is worth more than he’s stating.” His cell phone rang. It was Mattie. “Go. Dig into every one of those assets.”
“Got it.” Dan grabbed the files and left.
Terry answered his phone. “Hey Mattie, is the car ready?” He couldn’t wait to see Maggie again and press his case.
“Ready? No. I’ve seen pieces of junk before but this…It ain’t worth fixing,” said Mattie.
“You sure?” That was even better, but Maggie wasn’t going to be happy. His little rabbit liked her independence.
“Yeah. Whoever fixed it the last time did a shit-fuck job. They might as well have taped the parts together. You want me to call the lady who owns the car and give her the bad news?”
“I’ll take care of it and send me the bill, not her.”
“Got it. Hey, what do you want me to do with the car?”
“Junk it.” Terry hung up the phone. This was perfect. He could help her again. He’d prove to her that she could trust him with everything—her life, her body, her pleasure.
He pushed the contact button for Maggie. It rang and rang. Damn, she needed to learn to answer when he called. If only they were at the point where he could punish her for this. His dick perked up at the thought of her begging him for release. Her voice mail picked up. “Maggie, it’s Terry.” Soon he wouldn’t have to announce who he was. She’d know his voice. “Mattie called about your car. It can’t be repaired.”
His intercom buzzed.
“Your three o’clock is here,” said Ms. Richards, his assistant.
“Call me when you get this.” He hung up before pressing the button for the intercom. “Send him in.”
